My 23 Days in Peru!

*Author's Note: This real-life love story is a continuation. You can catch up by reading the first three installments HERE, and HERE, and HERE!

Think back with me for a minute—your first “hands-free” ride on a roller coaster; your first kiss on a dance floor; your first concert where you knew all the words; your first Robert Redford movie (okay, maybe that one only applies to me and every other middle-age-or-older woman in the universe). But are you feelin’ the love? Have the endorphins started popping?

Now recall the first time you heard the words, “I love you”…with your heart; the first time you looked into your newborn’s eyes…and had your first conversation; the first time you fell to your knees and pleaded with God…and immediately felt His peace… and knew that He was and is aware of every aspect of your life.

Combine these feelings of excitement, exhilaration, love, and total serenity and this was my 23 days in Peru—my reunion with Paco. He was the friend who turned into my boyfriend, who turned into my best friend. He was my first love and 28 years later became my husband and life’s partner. The only piece of the Tami’s Total Contentment Pie missing (a huge piece, actually) was my kids. But I knew that this was the first step needed to complete my “pie.” Once Paco and I were married, I’d return home and start the immigration process for him and his two daughters. All we wanted was to have our not-so-little family together. All we wanted was the opportunity to live our Happily Ever After. We had no idea of the bureaucratic nightmare that lay ahead…and maybe that was a good thing. Sometimes ignorance really is bliss. For now, we’ll dwell on my 23 days of bliss...

There were so many great moments in Peru—where do I even start? How about with food and family…and Paco’s tias (aunts). Paco’s mom has about as many sisters as I do (basically, enough to fill your average Catholic convent). So I was totally in my element on day two when I found myself at a dining-room table, surrounded by the tias and heaping plates of pasta. I can’t express enough how much I LOVE these ladies—their beautiful smiles, as well as incredible culinary skills. And even though my ear was dealing with a language famine (I could hardly understand a word spoken until Paco translated), my heart and stomach were quickly filling to capacity!

Other food and family adventures included anticuchos—beef that is marinated, skewered, and grilled. Combine this with picarones (think scones with maple syrup) and you’re in my Peruvian cuisine heaven. On several occasions Paco, his daughters and I, would go out to eat, and this was by far my favorite meal. Enchiladas like none I’ve ever tasted, came in a close second (and for the record, I loved the enchiladas, but they didn’t love me back—‘nuf said)!

Then there were the afternoons while Paco was at work that I spent with the girls—watching Disney channel or cheerleader movies in Spanish (who knew there were so many), roller-blading in the park across the street, polishing finger and toenails, playing with make-up, trying out new hairstyles, eating lunch with Paco’s mom and Tia Chuna, doing homework… Well, it didn’t take long for this mother-of-seven to find a place in her heart for two more. That’s the miracle of motherhood; somehow God allows us to love each of our children one hundred percent. I learned this after the birth of my second baby. All during the pregnancy I thought, Poor little Baby-in-my-Tummy! Tough breaks for you, but how could I possibly love another human being as much as your brother? And then Amber was born. And then I understood. My mother’s heart now runs at nine-hundred percent, and not a day passes that I don’t thank God for His miracles…and the nine beautiful blessings He’s placed in my life and heart!

Another great memory was the night Paco took me out dancing. Now if you know me at all, you know that I love to dance. As a kid, any given Saturday morning could find me and my sisters dancing with the TV tuned to American Bandstand and Soul Train. I also participated in various performing dance teams in high school and college. Basically, if there’s music playing, at the least, my toe is tapping. At the most, well, I’m embarrassing my kids in public places.

However, in my adult life, most of my dancing has been relegated to the kitchen floor—a perfect activity to break up the monotony of scrubbing dried lasagna from a casserole dish or stirring a simmering sauce. So when I found myself on a real dance floor, salsa music filling the air, and handsome Peruvian Love-of-My-Life, shaking his groove-thang at me… Well, let’s just say that if I’d died at that moment, it would have been with every tooth in my mouth exposed. It was the perfect night.

Then there were the moments alone with Paco. What can I say here? Intimacy is so much more than a physical act. It must also involve communication, trust and respect. If you are blessed to find that person in your life to share this with, you are holding a treasure, a gift. Not everyone has this. And far too many people don’t even know what it is, or what it involves. Some search for it their whole lives. Others give up entirely. For me, happiness is synonymous with a committed, intimate relationship. I will never give up on my happiness; therefore, I will forever protect and nurture this treasure I hold, this gift Paco has given me.

The day I left Peru was one of the most difficult days of my life. I knew it was a necessary step to our future happiness—after all; I had to be back in the US to start the visa paperwork. Also, my seven children and grandson were eagerly awaiting my arrival (Allie, my then 7-year-old, made me promise that I’d never, EVER, leave her again). And yet, a huge chunk of my heart would remain in Peru. A heart is a vital organ—THE vital organ! It all felt so literal. How would I survive with half a heart? How long till we’d be together again?

For the second time in my life, I kissed Paco goodbye at the Lima airport. Twenty-eight years earlier, he sent me home wearing a silver necklace inscribed with his name. This time his name was inscribed in a gold wedding band on my finger, on a legal document stating that he was my husband, and forever on my heart. I don’t wish on my worst enemy the anguish I felt as I was forced to say good bye to this Love who had miraculously re-appeared in my life. Tears streamed from both of our eyes. I never wanted the moment to end—never wanted to release my hold on him—and at the same time, never wanted to feel such pain again in my life. The only way to achieve this was to walk through the gate, fly home, and start the visa paperwork.

And so I did.

Stay tuned—there’s more to come!