There are places that you live and there are places that are home.  I've been searching for home for nearly 70 years.  Now, mind you, I have lived in some pretty amazing places and befriended some absolutely wonderful people. I mean no disrespect to any of the places or the people, but sometimes when you happen upon a place ~ maybe even by chance ~ it becomes more of a home that anywhere else you have ever lived.  I choose it believe that it's a "God" thing.

My place is San Carlos, Sonora, Mexico ~ the Bahia to be specific.  

My journey began 3 years ago when I (along with my then husband) sold everything in Oregon and moved to Mexico.  I'd only been to San Carlos for a brief visit, but it just felt right.  We bought a house with a magnificent view of the Sea of Cortez and the Tetakawi  mountain.  It was a place to retire and relax.  Little did I know that 4 months later he would ask for a divorce and I would find myself on my own.  It felt like time to panic because I was the new kid in town and literally didn't know my way around.

Now, I don't know if you are a spiritual person or not, but I'm telling you that I was meant to be here.  Mostly I'm telling you that God brought me here and provided for all my needs.  When I needed to move out of the house, He provided a house sitting gig in a beautiful home on the golf course with a magnificent pool. Oh, and did I mention that it was rent free? The only requirement was to maintain the yard and that was absolutely what I needed to keep me occupied.  It was amazingly good therapy!

Then I needed a car because we had sold my car to purchase one that was Mexico plated to allow for freedom of movement out of the "free zone".  A new acquaintance from church had a  business here that had purchased a sub compact car (exactly what I wanted) and had decided to sell it and purchase a larger model.  So, I scored an almost new car,  even Mexico plated that was almost exactly the amount  I had withdrawn from the joint account I had held with my ex husband. 

When my house sitting gig ended and I needed a place to live, that same friend from church (who had lost her husband 3 years prior) decided that she was ready to take in a housemate, so I came to live in the Bahia, the neighborhood I had been vying to live in. The total irony to that move is that her house is right next door to the very first person I met in San Carlos (on Facebook when I was still living in the states.)  Who would have imagined?

Meg and I were soulmates in the sense that we were both healing from  tremendous losses, me from my pending divorce and her from her husband's death. She prayed with me and taught me to release some of my pent up stress, fears and frustration physically.  So, we kayaked the Bahia, hiked along the trail to the "fish village" and rode bikes to Pilates in the marina.  Whenever I felt down, she's tell me to literally take a hike!  After 2 years at her house, it was time to move on, but I was still fearful of living on my own given the costs, security, etc.  I really wanted to stay in the neighborhood because I knew people in the area and was very comfortable.  Remember that next door neighbor I said I'd met on Facebook?  She had a rental apartment across the street from Meg's house that was becoming available.  It was secured by a wall and a gate, just the right size, had a beautiful view of the Bahia and was just what I could afford!  

 My dog, Ollie, and I moved to the apartment in April with the help of friends.  The beauty of this is that my closest friends are within walking distance, and we frequent each others houses for dinners, brunches, beach bonfires and just basic gatherings.  Even better, we are constantly there for one another ~ the way it should be and rarely is.  One couple bounces around from their boat to various of our homes to pet sit.  It's a true blessing for all as several of us need reliable people to care for our pets, and Greg and Laurie often appreciate a taste of the other side of life on land. We share cars as need be and often accompany one another on trips up to the states for shopping or medical visits.  Now, mind you, I have always had good friends, but these friends, well, they're different.  Maybe it's because we're foreigners in a foreign land, but we all look out for one another, more so than anywhere else I've ever lived. 

Several months ago I adopted an amazing dog from a shelter on 100+ dogs.  Now, that's a whole story in itself.  

This is Diva.  I was told she's a dachshund, but I swear there's some Bassett hound mixed in because of her enormous paws and ears.  And sweet!  She's one of those dogs that you fall in love with instantly. Everyone who met her was captivated by her charm.  She came to live with Ollie and I and it wasn't long before she started having some medical issues.  After numerous trips to various vets, it became apparent that she couldn't manage the stairs at my apartment.  In swooped one of my amazing friends, Connie, who offered to foster her until we could hopefully resolve the problems.  What a blessing because Connie was a nurse by profession and knew all the "tricks" in helping to care for Diva.  

And Connie was a blessing in more ways than one because she went to the vet visits with me, not only for moral support, but also to brainstorm on what the issues might be.  There were theories, but no one could absolutely say what the problem was, and the problems manifested in several different ways.  One of the common practices here with veterinary care is a series of injections of antibiotics, pain killers, etc.  The regimen is generally for 5 continuous days.  The vet provided all 5 injections with instructions on how to administer them.  Connie was squeamish about doing it, but another friend, a former vet tech, was willing to do it.  Yet another Godly provision.

After a while, it became apparent that Diva was not experiencing a good quality of life.  Her breathing had become labored and she basically didn't get up off the couch.  I had to make the decision on what to do and believe me, I had a difficult time letting go.  Diva didn't make it easy as, in her sweet little way, she'd life her head and wag her tail profusely when she saw me and I was so hopeful that one day she would be well enough to come back to my home.  That, as they say, was not in the cards.  On her last day, Diva and I were surrounded by people who love us, Connie, Laurie and Beverly and Paula from next door.  We just quietly cried together and held my little girl.

We made an appointment with a local vet to put her down.  Again, I was never alone.  God provided my angels, Connie and Laurie to accompany me.  And Diva, wagged her tail weakly from her bed up until the end, and even administered kisses to our faces.  And then, once her spirit was gone, what do we do with her beautiful little body?   In the morning, Greg prepared her and, together with Laurie and I, we released her into the Sea of Cortez.  Diva will always be a glorious memory of the little dog who came from a multitude of dogs to grace my life, and the lives of all who knew her.  When I gaze out upon the Sea of Cortez, I cam fondly remember that little dog who was such  joy to all who met her.

And remember how this story began about home? I can say without a doubt that San Carlos is my home, not because of the shining sea and the glorious landscapes, but truly because of the people who inhabit this place who have forever found their places in my heart. I thank God for bringing me to this place.