Connections and Memories

Every Friday Rosita comes to clean the house. She begins with the dishes, and takes pride in putting things in the “correct” spot. When we return, our beds are changed and made and everything is gently put into place – at times, if you are observant, down to the finest details. Last time she was here, I returned to my room to find a missing sock placed nicely on my dresser drawer. How she knew it was mine eludes me. But, there is more to this weekly cleaning, a deeper story. Dylan and Anna are precisely the people who would NOT have a maid to look after them, so of course, there has to be an explanation. That explanation is Kail Alamilla.
Kail is a child who spent just a short amount of time in this world. He spent 4 years changing lives of those who knew him, and even those who knew of him. Kail was the energetic, smiling son of Lisel. He was said to have a light about him, even in his weakest moments. Sadly, Kail was fated. A tumor was discovered in his brain when he was only 2, and after multiple surgeries and expensive flights to the States, the positive results were only temporary. As life mysteriously chooses, Kail wasn’t given much of a chance. To everyone’s dismay, Kail’s tumor returned. Burying itself deep in a place no doctor could cure.
Even with this evil gripping onto his tiny brain, Kail lived each day with what seemed to be extreme gratefulness. He threw his small brown body into every activity he could manage. Like children with severe illnesses often do, he accepted his sickness as normality. Kail was known to bounce off beds onto hard tiled floors laughing the whole way down, and scaring the living daylights out of his mom. With tubes attached and glasses on, Kail was still the cutest kid around. It was that light, that bright light that he exuded.
Everyone that knew him recognized this difference. He wasn’t a normal kid from the beginning. He leaked happiness into those around him, more so than any wide eyed child could.
Dylan said there was a game he used to play called Monster. He had a phase where he greeted friends with a rumbling growl. Hands up in claw position, face scrunched for maximum scariness. When Kail was approaching his final days in Chicago, Dylan walked into the room filled with the heavy scent of despair. Dylan saw the small boy, looking frail, asleep in the bed hooked up to a complicated system of wires and tubes. Kail slowly woke in the room where he would take his last breaths. Though the tumor had taken and damaged some precious tissues of his little brain, his eyes lit at the sight of his friend. Mustering all the strength he possibly could, he raised his hands in claw position and gave a pitiful, but satisfactory growl. Kail died soon after.
The light had left, and Lisel lived for a while in darkness, trying to see in a now dim world. Slowly she came back, with the support of family and friends and endless love - the strength of her family bonds unbreakable and sturdy. I think that she slowly discovered that Kail’s light wasn’t completely gone, just hidden. Of course his old clothes, stickers and drawings are still around (divided up and given to close friends and family), but he also continues on through stories and memories. His presence is strong and persistent. Since I’ve been here, I’ve heard innumerable stories and been taken on numerous memory trips. I felt that light, the warmness that Kail gave to so many. His story touched me. I can only look at pictures of a mocha child, with a toothy smile and bright eyes. He is caught forever in a laughing pose and you can almost hear the child-like giggle rise up from the colourful paper. It’s no wonder that his favorite color was red, a warm passionate color. It was the color that splashed his funeral, which was not a funeral at all, but instead a Celebration of Life.
Rosita, she was there, by Kail’s side through it all. She helped Lisel when he was at his sickest moments. When Kail passed, she not only lost that little light, but a job too. Now, you see, Belize has this web, this system. It is a system of people who know people who know people. It is an intricate pattern that most don’t even understand. This elaborate web also does something else amazing. It catches you if you fall, embracing you in its surprising stickiness. When Rosita, who has four children of her own, began to slip, this web caught her quickly. Soon, everyone around who was affected by Kail and beyond offered her jobs. Jobs like cleaning the house, which isn’t necessary, but helpful. This Belizean web, if you’re lucky to sew in your own strings, will not fail you.
So Rosita comes each Friday and methodically begins her work. Life continues on and the web increases in its complexity. I can only hope to find and build my own design in this web during my stay. I’ve already tugged on the red colored strings that brought Kail’s story to me, and I can’t help but feel connections at the tips of my fingers.
I went to lunch with Lisel the other day. She just announced that she would be married to her new found soul mate, Rob. He is kind, understanding, able to take her crazy headstrong ways, and can cook! As she gushed in her pre-wed glow (her happiness is so strong its contagious!) the date of her wedding sunk in deep. She chose the second anniversary of Kail’s death, January 1st. She explained that nothing can stop this day from being a celebration – a celebration of the life of the beautiful boy as well as the celebration of the light that brought Rob and her together. The wedding will be at sunrise. As the attendants watch the sun rise over the sea minds will be in several places. The drum music will play and the warm red of the sun will soak and saturate the guests. And Kail will continue to live in memories.

In memory of Kail Alamilla (2002-2006)