I took a trip to Mexico City the summer after my mother died, alone, to make a pilgrimage to Frida where I saw Casa Azul and the retrospective at the Palacio de Bellas Arts and a folk ballet at that Palacio in the same theatre that Frida would sit in when everyone would turn to stare at her flowers and silver and then I visited La Guadalupe and walked and walked up the hill; when I knelt before Her I cried Mama! Mama!
