I have been in a bit of a fog the last few days. I am sorry for not getting back to you sooner. I've been wrestling with news that has me grappling for a handhold. I wish you were here. I cannot wait until you come home from Mexico.
Abigail announced to Clarissa, Esperanza and me that she has cancer. It is advanced and surgery and treatment will likely only prolong her life by a year, maybe a little longer. She has decided to do only what will keep her alive long enough to see the the opening of Mercy's art gallery. Beyond that she says she doesn't want to fight it. After she told us, she went to her library and started making phone calls to the contractor, the architect, her lawyer - telling them all methodically, as if announcing a bit of bad weather is headed our way - to step everything up a notch. She wants the building competed by the New Year.
We've only just had the building plans approved. The ink on the last environmental survey is barely dry. They all told her - even the lawyer - that she is asking for the impossible. But she just said most of what we say is impossible is really just improbable and she's never been a fan of probabilities. So everyone better just stop imagining what can't be done and instead get busy pursuing all that can be.
I can hardly believe I am writing this. Ryan is due home from Europe next week. Clarissa emailed her and told her the news. For now, Abigail says she wants nothing to change. She wants the girls and I to continue living with her this next school year. I don't know if Ryan will want to. Clarissa has been quiet. I don't know what she is thinking. And usually I do. Usually she just says what she is thinking.
Esperanza is angry. She has been making cookies and bread and empanadas nonstop, banging pot and pans around in the kitchen as if they were battle drums. I don't know what to do with all the food she is making. I don't know what to do about anything.
I miss you, Raul. I know we have a lot to talk about when you get home. But I miss your nearness.
Call me when you get home.