Felicia, who has taken me in as her own daughter, feeding me mountains of food and consistently worrying over my safety. This woman who is always on the brink of laughter and so full of sass. Felicia who forces me to speak Spanish, repeating the word digame over and over again until I eventually do figure out a way to tell her what I am thinking. Felicia who corrects my mistakes and lectures me for speaking in English.
This woman who insists on doing my laundry and refuses to allow me to leave the house in a wrinkled shirt - to the point of removing the guilty article of clothing from my body and leaving me to eat breakfast in my bra while she irons. All the while shaking her head at my crumpled appearance.
We watch novelas together. She repeats que guapo each time a certain male character enters the screen, and then immediately looks to me for confirmation of the level of this mans attractiveness. At which point I willingly oblige, giggle and repeat, si, muy guapo.
I am learning so much from this Felicia. In the way she has approached our relationship she is unknowningly teaching me the depths of true hospitality. In witnessing her relationship with her neighbors Felicia is showing me what it looks like to live in community: it looks like coming over for coffee, going grocery shopping for one another, rotating caring for the 2 year old child while her mother is in the hospital, watching, and when necessary disciplining, the neighborhood boys who are daily playing out in the street, bringing an unknown elderly woman into your home while she waits for her grandson to come pick her up. The doors of this neighborhood are quite literally always open. Forming a living breathing community, an organism that is full of bright colors, children shrieking and the beauty of giving and receiving.
And on Friday, on Friday Felicia taught me something powerful about love and sacrifice. Recounting the four years that her and a young Steven moved in with their old neighbors. An elderly couple who needed to be cared for. Felicia explained she thought it would simply be easier to live with them, only in that way would she be able to offer them the full time care they so desperately needed. And so for four years her life was spent living with and caring for this couple, doting on them as if they were her own two small children. And over time, she watched them both pass. She described this experience as having a large impact on her, a time of great beauty and great pain. I tried to tell her of my admiration for an act of such bold kindness, to which she quickly responded that this is just what you do. Without hesitation, this is simply what you do for your neighbor. You share in life and when it is coming to an end, you share in death.
Felicia. From living with this woman I am learning so much.
