The New Year is upon us, and normally at this time we would be making preparations for our annual pilgrimage to Peru. Unfortunately, however, our trip to see Coco’s family is not happening this year. The truth is … we just can’t afford to take the time off. We had to swap Peru for a string of art shows in Florida. Though a new adventure awaits us in the Sunshine State, Coco is understandably sad. He was awfully quiet at Christmas this year. The sadness is contagious, as it is very hard for me to see him this way. Coco and I knew when we got married that one of us would always be far from our family. It was the life we signed on for, in order to stay together as a couple. At first, it was me who was far, far away from home. When we lived in Cusco, I loved living abroad, but I missed the nuances of home and being close to my family. The distance stretched further during the difficult, early months of my pregnancy with Mayu. I called my mother every day, sometimes three times a day, yearning for her advice and proximity. I wanted her nearby to take care of me through the nausea, headaches, and fatigue.
It was the impending birth of my first child that called me home to the States. Coco understood and took a big leap of faith in moving abroad. And so, the situation flip-flopped when Mayu came into this world. Coco was far from home when he experienced the greatest moment of joy in his life. In the hospital room, he saw my parents beaming with joy, as they relished in the love and pride of their first grandchild. He longed for his parents to be there too. Instead, Coco phoned his parents with the news that his first son had arrived. There was so much joy in the northern hemisphere, while there was so much yearning in the southern one. Over the course of the next year, the phone was the only tie uniting three generations of “Peruanos.” In February of last year, Coco’s parents were overcome with happiness when the day finally arrived to hold the little “terremoto” in their arms. Terremoto means earthquake in Spanish, and the nickname they donned Mayu suited him perfectly. At one and a half years old, he tore through their home, and simultaneously, their hearts.
When we said goodbye to Coco’s family last year, we vowed to return every year for a visit. When we made that promise, however, we never could have predicted the tumultuous year ahead at Rumi Sumaq. And so, we enter into 2013 with a broken promise and heavy hearts. There is no family visit to Peru this year. That said, we recognize that sadness is oftentimes the impetus for change. 2012 was a growing year for us at Rumi Sumaq, as we learned the ins and outs of the arts business. We vow to not repeat our mistakes, but to learn from them instead. Our passion for our dream of running a small family business inspires us to persevere through these tough times, so that we may rebound strong in 2013. We have new resolve, new ideas, and most importantly, your support and friendship. We are certain that next year, there will be a huge family reunion in Peru. Who knows? Maybe Mayu will soon have all four of his grandparents together in one hemisphere. Now THAT is a dream worth working our tails off for… Bring it on 2013. We are ready for you.
“Learn from yesterday, live for today, hope for tomorrow.” — Albert Einstein