Running Out of Options
RUNNING AWAY TO COLOMBIA—PT5
A successful procedure briefly gives me back the ability to walk. When the pain returns and our support system begins to change, Michael and I must confront what comes next.
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Running into Reality
RUNNING AWAY TO COLOMBIA—PT4
I came to Colombia to keep moving. Instead, walking gives way to pain, a bright blue rollator, medical appointments, and limits I can no longer ignore.
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Building a Nest
RUNNING AWAY FROM COLOMBIA—PT 3
Michael and I arrive in Bucaramanga with four suitcases and a one-month Airbnb, then take a chance on an imperfect apartment with good bones and begin turning it into a home.
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Everything Had to Justify Itself or Leave
RUNNING AWAY FROM COLOMBIA—PT 2
As strangers carry our belongings away at an estate sale, a lifetime becomes price tags, four suitcases, and the irreversible decision to leave America for Colombia.
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Where in the world is Jon D Barnett this morning?
RUNNING AWAY FROM COLOMBIA—PT 1
After a spinal procedure lets me walk again, I take stock of an unreliable body, a changing definition of independence, and why Michael and I chose Colombia for the final chapter of our lives.
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Negotiating Borders
Pain, the Brain, Aging, and Migración Colombia It’s 2 a.m., and I have to pee. That’s just about the simplest, least glamorous human problem imaginable for a 69-year-old man…except that my body has recently added a new rule: you don’t get to do simple things anymore without negotiating for them first. I reach for assistance…
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Two Passports and a Map
Quick clarification (because this matters): This post is not about leaving Colombia or “moving back to the U.S.” This is a border run — a temporary exit required by visa timing — with a practical stop in Florida. From there, Michael continues on to Kansas City for a few weeks to house-sit and see friends…
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From Where I’m Standing
Venezuela: Close enough. Far away. I’m watching Venezuela from northeastern Colombia, from a city called Bucaramanga, tucked into the eastern Andes. On a map, this looks close to the Venezuelan border, and it is. Close enough that one could be forgiven for assuming Caracas must be nearby. But maps lie. Or rather, they flatten things…
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Let´s talk about that elephant in the room: AI
As I embark on this long-awaited launch and rebranding of myself, I have to get some things off my chest, starting with the obligatory AI disclosure. Habits, intentions, and resources. It’s 3 a.m. on a Sunday. This is the best time of the day for me. I don’t need a lot of hours of sleep…
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Writer’s block… or stroke? – Part 2
This is the second installment of a two-part series. You can read Part 1 here. This story started only a few days ago, and already details are fading, so I better wrap this up today. Saturday was a grueling day at the ER… er, I mean VIP station of Hospital Internacional de Colombia, that included…
