Carolina was the second baby I saw born, close on the heels of Angel’s 6th birthday. This time, I was the camerawoman.
Carolina’s mother, TB, and I have shared many memories. September 11, 2001 was the saddest in terms of world history. I had no TV at the time and TB, who lived nearby in my house in Mexico City, called me to say that a plane had crashed into one of the World Trade Towers. We were on the phone when the second one hit. By the time I ran to her house, the plane had crashed into the Pentagon. We watched the towers fall together.
The day after Thanksgiving 2001 was the saddest in terms of personal history. Carolina suffered what can be described as a massive cerebral “incident” and went into a coma for the next 2 months.
Today Carolina is seven years old. She cannot walk, talk, or feed herself and never will. Yet Carolina is everpresent and active in our lives. She lives with us in our heads at bedtime and the children, especially, include her in grace at dinner. She smiles at her mother and her brothers and loves McDonald’s french fries (just like the rest of us). She has made me rethink the meaning of life. Birthday blessings, Carolina. You are a star. And so is your mother.