Tragedy struck my family last November. Their son Grisante, my host brother, was diagnosed with metastatic cancer. He was scheduled for an exam of a hernia he had, but cancer was discovered. My host brother and parents are without medical insurance, so the road ahead of them would be a very expensive one … one they would never be able to afford. They did everything in their power to gather their funds - working odds and ends to earn extra income - and funds from family. My parents felt awful, and they generously wired money down to my family here in the Dominican Republic.
My host parents and family cried tears of joy; they were unbelievably appreciative of the financial support. They didn't know how to thank my parents, whom they had never met. The money helped them provide pain management to Grisante, which helped make him comfortable. There was nothing they could do but try and make him as comfortable as possible, and, about a month and a half after he was diagnosed, he passed away.
When I first arrived this summer, my host mom lost all composure and cried on my shoulder as she squeezed me in a hug. It was the first time she had seen me since Grisante passed away, and she kept telling me that God had blessed her with another son in place of the one he had taken away.
My host parents are sometimes embarrassed about what they are able to provide me and wish they could provide better, but I always remind them that that couldn't be possible; I felt at home in their house and under their care. They always ask how my parents and family are doing - they love my parents so much, especially after their support to care for their son. They wouldn't have been able to help make Grisante comfortable without their help.
Limited by what I am able to bring through airport security and customs, my host mom was worrying about what she could send back with me to my parents. After a list of things she would love for me to bring, which I couldn't, she thought of two things: I would carry back blessed water from Virgen de la Piedra (Mother Mary in a coastal cave) and dulce de lechosa (candied papaya) should would make and jar for me to bring. I was so touched by her pride in making the treat for my family, and my parents were heart-warmed by the gifts bearing such sentimental value. They will have to make it, one day, to my family's house in the DR … for they are their family, too.
My host parents and family cried tears of joy; they were unbelievably appreciative of the financial support. They didn't know how to thank my parents, whom they had never met. The money helped them provide pain management to Grisante, which helped make him comfortable. There was nothing they could do but try and make him as comfortable as possible, and, about a month and a half after he was diagnosed, he passed away.
When I first arrived this summer, my host mom lost all composure and cried on my shoulder as she squeezed me in a hug. It was the first time she had seen me since Grisante passed away, and she kept telling me that God had blessed her with another son in place of the one he had taken away.
My host parents are sometimes embarrassed about what they are able to provide me and wish they could provide better, but I always remind them that that couldn't be possible; I felt at home in their house and under their care. They always ask how my parents and family are doing - they love my parents so much, especially after their support to care for their son. They wouldn't have been able to help make Grisante comfortable without their help.
Limited by what I am able to bring through airport security and customs, my host mom was worrying about what she could send back with me to my parents. After a list of things she would love for me to bring, which I couldn't, she thought of two things: I would carry back blessed water from Virgen de la Piedra (Mother Mary in a coastal cave) and dulce de lechosa (candied papaya) should would make and jar for me to bring. I was so touched by her pride in making the treat for my family, and my parents were heart-warmed by the gifts bearing such sentimental value. They will have to make it, one day, to my family's house in the DR … for they are their family, too.