Selling Miracles

I just sold my whole collection of milagros, eyes, ears, arms, heads, hands, hearts, breasts, men, women, children, angels, eggs, dogs, cats, donkeys. A selection of milagros probably only found in church gift shops. I’ve had miracles collecting dust for years, ever since I split from my kids’ father. He kept the collection of precious and semi-precious stones to set in jewelry and I got the milagros that we used to make crafts that we sold to Mexican folk art stores in the States.

I stopped making crafts when I opened the restaurant. I didn’t have any free time. I was raising two kids alone and trying to figure out how to run a restaurant with no clue how to do either. Now I have an empty nest, a busy restaurant and two houses, one that I live in and one for sale. When I moved into the new house I swore I would zenify my life. No more stuff that I don’t use. Nothing that needs fixing. No more electronic cables that I don’t know what they connect to. Socks with no pairs. Lids to containers long gone. Old school books. The trunk my daughter grafittied when she was 9. Why is it so hard for me to let go of stuff? I never thought of myself as a pack rat, but I grew up with a mother who would get into a throw-it-all-away rampage. Being me, I rebelled. I shrugged off my privleged upbringing. I embraced a life of hard work. And I moved to Mexico where poverty makes you more waste conscious.

At one point I had boxed up all the stuff we no longer used and put it in a room with the intention of giving it all away. My son’s ex-girlfriend walked into the room as if it were filled with hidden treasures and kindly offered to take it all off my hands.

“Yes, please, take it all!” And by the next day it was gone and I was left with an uncluttered guest room. A few months passed, they had split up, but remained friends, and Kauil asked if Natasha could leave a few things in the guestroom while she moved.

“Of course she can,” and as quickly as she had moved everything out, it all returned, plus some. It was even more difficult throwing away someone else’s stuff than my own. As if some stranger was going to come knocking on my door wanting that vibrating belt that pulses away your belly fat because they gave it away when they were skinny, but have since gained weight and they need it back!

I have made it difficult for myself, fought growing up every step of the way. But as stubborn as I am, I’m learning my lessons. Learning how to be a little more like my mother who can blindly dump a drawer of junk into the garbage without a worry. Leaving behind a house that no longer feels like home. Smiling back at my snarky self, tongue sticking out, holding up a middle finger. Letting go of tarnished milagros, so the miracles can shine.

5 thoughts on “Selling Miracles

  1. We have missed your writing. Thank goodness you are back at it. A story which comes full circle and is very touching and enjoyable to read. You have a gift and we hope there is more to come soon.

  2. Another excellent post, Noreen. I love your writing. I miss you and your wonderful food too. I’m pretty good at letting go of stuff, but then sometimes I have regrets. Moving countries is good for loosening the grip. It turns out that I’m good at refilling my space. Sigh

  3. Funnily enough I still have a little tupperware of milagros I got from you! They’ve made their way into various art projects over the years. Good for you learning how to toss stuff. I’m kind of half there, not sure I’ll ever be as zen as my hub would prefer haha. Love your writing. xo

  4. Hey Noren …
    I wholeheartedly enjoyed this piece. Perhaps you remember me as we always seemed to bump into each other at La Comer lol… my husband and I recently moved back to the US to care for my elderly mother. I would love to be in touch a little.. please feel free to reach out at
    Warm Regards.. y abrazos,

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