Grief is not a disorder, a disease or a sign of weakness. It is an emotional, physical and spiritual necessity, the price you pay for love. The only cure for grief is to grieve. – Earl Grollman
Jama Ecuador – There was something in his eyes, or perhaps in his voice when Marcos spoke to me on the busy street corner. He had never asked me for anything except for an exchange of smiles during the many years I’ve known him. I knew little about his personal life; he was the smiling person who helped in his sister’s store, who sold colas and ice cream at the corner, and who made New Year effigies to sell during the final week of each year.
Marcos Cevallos crossing the street – From once upon a time years before the earthquake…
I knew he had lost famiy in the earthquake, but I knew few details. When he spoke to me in the street, he was worried about his 12-year old son and mentioned a lack of money for food. Planning to be out of town for a few days, I promised to return on Saturday. Over those next few days, I often reflected on his somber tone; I thought of Phil Colin’s song, Another Day in Paradise. How difficult it must be for someone like Marcos to ask, ‘Sir, Can you help me?’ I’m glad he found the faith and comfort to approach me.
When I returned on Saturday, finding Marcos was no easy task on the weekend of Ecuador’s Presidential elections; I was determined to follow through with my promise and found him one day after the elections when the mass of people had gone home. A friend tended the ice-cream box while Marcos shared the story of losing his wife and three children during the earthquake. See: The End of the World.
He invited me to go to the cemetery the next morning..
Marcos paused in front of each family member, pointed to each one and said sweet words of respect. He gave equal respect to the three people in the row above his family.
Irrael was the wheelchair-bound man (pictured below) that I sometimes mentioned in posts about Jama.
Marcos asked if I would photograph him with his loved ones, a group shot and then one by one as he went down the line…
He asked the caretaker where Chana was buried, and we went there next, sat and talked for a long time…
We next paid respect to his 7-year old nephew who also died in the same house as Marco’s wife and children. Marcos freshens flowers, wipes soil from the painted surfaces, and when needed, he applies fresh paint.
There were several petite sites with fresh paint. Marcos called them ‘Angelitos’ and said he does not know who they are, but he found them worthy of attention. They have no name, no date, but they have their own angel caring for them now.
Throughout our unhurried visit, we sat, talked, and when time to stand, we both hobbled like ancients! My stiff back reminds me that chikungunya side effects don’t surrender without a fight. Marcos’ back and leg, injured in the earthquake, protest when he changes position. Once his leg almost collapsed, but after a few steps he seemed better.
One lone little forgotten angel, now maintained by Marcos with doting affection.. I suspect there are many freshly-painted markers, painted by a kind man out of the goodness of his mending heart.
Three Angelitos, adopted by Marcos
There are times when Marcos reclaims his smile. At the end of one day, a friend puffed out his chest and joked, “Hey! Take my picture!’ Instead of standing solo, he moved to Marcos’ side for a photo with extra meaning. Friends like that remind us that we’re not alone.
Thank you for allowing me to share Marcos’s story. Please hold his story close to your heart, and take time to acknowledge those who are not as fortunate as you. It’s really quite easy to give a quiet ear to one in pain or to drop a bag of quality items to someone who’s in a financial bind. The the more one practices compassion to others, the easier it becomes.
I will be out of email and cyber contact for the next ten days. When I return, it would be uplifting to find the world in better health. I look forward to hearing good stories and seeing positive headlines!
Z
How awful! I can’t imagine losing my family like that. There isn’t enough time to grieve properly. But thanks for the tribute. An amazing man. Truly.
Thank you again for sharing Marcos’ story with us and giving us a chance to help a bit. I loved your first quote from Earl Grollman about grief. I am sure that Marcos is several steps down the road to recovery having spent some time in shared grief with you. God bless you! JandM
Such a beautiful heartfelt post, Lisa. Thank you.
This is a particularly beautiful post Lisa. A story of continued grieving and healing — in a most practical (hands on-way.) The care that Marcos gives to the “Spirit Homes” of his lost family members (and the unknown Angelitos) is a most brilliant form of self-care. As he tends the graves, he mends his heart. The Northern world has much to learn from our brothers and sisters in the South. Thank you for giving us these insights by sharing what “others” do. I will go now and read “The End of the World.” Alia
Thank you so much for these posts, Lisa. I found them so moving and humbling. I simply cannot begin to imagine how I would have coped with what Marcos and the many other earthquake/tsunami victims have had to cope with over the centuries. Hearing these stories of the good brave folk you know, gives all this human grief a reality and dignity it would not otherwise have. Thank you for being a witness and a comforter.
Thank you for telling the story, for when we listen and read, we remember those who who lived, laughed, loved. And in doing so we are inspired to live better today.
I am keeping Marcos’ story close to my heart. When you return, please let us know how we can help. I treasure these personal stories.
So painful.
I am sitting here listening to massive raindrops hitting the roof and as if for punctuation we have thunder so loud it is vibrating the house. Somehow it mirrors my feelings as I read your post. What a lovely soul Marcos has to care for his loved ones and to tend those he does not even know.
And what a beautiful tribute you have made to him, Lisa.
Sending you love and a healing prayer to share. ❤
~L
Thanks, Z, for telling us about a fine human- being named Marcos.
Just feel like sending Marco the biggest hug.
When I see him, I will have a ‘google-translate’ copy of the posts, so he will know that someone with a loving heart on the other side of the pond is sending him a comforting hug. Thank you..
Thanks Lisa 🙆🙋🙃😘
I’ve appreciated this whole series of posts. Whether you’ll find the world as a whole any better when you return, the fact is that in every part of the world, good things are happening as people care for and support one another.
It occurs to me, too, that for individuals around the world, losses that feel like earthquakes are taking place every day. Their houses may not fall, even though their worlds are falling apart. A little more sensitivity to their needs, a little less obsession over our own problems, is never a bad thing. It doesn’t take much, sometimes, to make those small worlds better. In that sense, Marcos’s caring for the unknown angels is a lesson for us all.
There you are again, weaving beautiful tapestries between misc challenges in life – and writing so that we look inward — and then outward with a loving heart. Thank you Lovely Friend!
Such a touching post. It’s hard to fully understand what it means to lose so many of one’s loved ones. We can only feel with Marco and all the others who were effected by the hurricane.
Thank you for your support, Otto. You could do a much better job than I at sharing the stories…
I am not sure about that. It’s the personal touch that makes the difference.
you have the gift of both, maestro!
I don’t know if you’re going to find the world any better when you return, but with your spirit, the tough times can find their place. Respect and attention. That was the request, and you reciprocated. A good example to follow. Be well Lisa!
Just knowing that you are in that world will always give me comfort.
I hope that things look encouraging in your world. Wish I could swoop you both up and bring you here for a ‘timeout’ from your own challenges.
With love, dear talented one,
Lisa
Lisa.. my throat it so choked up right now.. And I had to wait until the tears cleared so i could see to write..
It is stories like these that put people’s stories to the fore.. When statistics are no longer numbers of those killed and lost in such disasters..
My heart goes out to Marcos and all those who have loved and lost.. Its heart wrenching..
Your portrayal of his grief and sadness was beautifully done Lisa..
You are one special Lady..
Much love dear Lisa.. ❤ ❤ ❤
Thank you, Sue. Your feedback is greatly appreciated, as it’s very difficult to know when ‘too much information’ is too much… He and others seemed to convey a strong wish or need to have their stories shared, and I have been hesitant to share the not-so-pretty.
Every time I think of Marcos and others, I almost cry….
The one-year anniiversary will be on April 16th, and I hope to go back four or more days before that and work with Marcos on painting the sites with some impressionistic flowers, more lettering which includes date of birth, etc…
The ‘misas’ on the 16th/17th will be difficult ones, but they will also help give closures to those who are left behind.
Thank you so much for your heart-felt comment.
What a wonderful gesture upon your part Lisa, the flowers and dates of birth etc I know will be very appreciated.. And I have put that date in my diary to help remind me to send out a prayer to all those who are still grieving. So love your heart xxx ❤
thank you; the quake hit just after dark around 7 in the evening.. preceded about 8 minutes earlier by a strange ‘bump’ of a little quake… the second time gave no little warning, the tiger bolted into a one-minute attack that surely seemed like an eternity to those at the epicenter… thank you again…
Thank you for that Lisa.. ❤ … ❤
How special and lovely that will be, Lisa.