We had buried my sweet uncle a few weeks ago, I lost my fur baby girl a few months back, the hubs is on the road a lot and I find myself exhausted to the depths of my soul from so much. We have had family drama also...the kind that you shake your head at and say "they just can't make this shit up." Some days I wonder if I have dementia and then realize that I just do not want to think...about anything. I do not want to engage the grey matter in anything but listening to the waves on the beach and my favorite singers serenade me with "Sabor a mi" in the square while I nurse a cold margarita...maybe sangria.
The sun. I lay on the beach and a norte has moved in creating wind gusts that are enough to blow me away. And it is freezing...which some may laugh at considering the fact I am just above the equator on a beach and I live spitting distance from Canada and the coldest city in the US. But as I lay on the beach, with my black fleece zipped to my neck and the sand whipping around me, I could care less.
We landed to two friends waiting for us who bound out of their car with smiles and laughter and the embraces that everyone dreams of when arriving to a beloved spot. They drove us to our hacienda where our sweet friend Linda greeted us with the smile and hugs that tell us we are in our place of laughter and love. And we go into our apartment and look around to find an enormous floral arrangement greeting us and breathe in the salt air as we throw open the windows...
We sit on the sea wall with more dear friends and watch the final parade of Carnaval. As the wind picks up and the cool of the night gets a bit much, we run to find dinner and instead run into a friend who is in the parade and stops to have her picture taken with us. It's the laughter, the festivity, the love of someone we consider family we have just run into, that fills my heart. She and her husband own a bar named Ohana...Ohana means family and she and her hubs and her siblings are our family in so many ways.
I so needed this.
In the coming days we sit under a palapa (the hubs does) and I lay in the sun to let it seep in at first, then sink deep into my soul. To feel the healing warmth of a place that has always seemed to have my heart in its hand and has provided some of the best times of the last 21 years.
We wander in and out of shops browsing. We get massages from our amazing gal pal Sally. We see our friends who own restaurants and bars where we stop for something cold to say hello and catch up, it's been a year.
We go to a puppy kissing booth at a favorite bar on Valentines day to benefit the Humane Society where we sponsor two kennels. Our parade friends are there and we relax after kisses and join them for a drink and so much laughter. Then we head off to dinner at an incredible restaurant to watch another breathtaking puesta del sol and have dinner together.
We stop to see Miguel, our amigo who we met 21 years ago on our honeymoon and who has been a dear friend since then. I remember his 4th child, Victoria, being born and he tells us that she is now 15 and about to celebrate her quinceanera.
We drive north chasing a rainbow we see to take pictures and see where it begins in the water and ends in the jungle...
We walk hand-in-hand to buy vanilla for our friend Judy, to buy a gift for my rowing partner Cathy who lost her beloved pup Kenya, to buy a present for our house/puppy sitter that we are blessed to have caring for our babies. And we talk to the cruise ship people who are looking for souvenirs and beers for $1.
I am grateful that shortly we will escort a pup home for a couple that fell in love like we have 3 times now. An island perro who will now make the journey with us home to find a new life with people who knew he was the new one to be added to their family. We were in the right place at the right time to be able to escort Manny to his new home, just as Manny was in the right place at the right time to serendipitously find Kyle and Becki.
And I take it all in and let it heal the sadness, the emptiness that has seemed to overtake me in the last several months with so much loss and pain and all that goes with that. The sun, the coveted time alone with the hubs, the friendship with people who are not constantly judging me. The sound of the waves, the peace of the other side of the island where there is no one but us and the sea and sun. The laughter of good people happy to see us. And I am comforted to know that in a month's time we will be back to connect with our Canadian friends that we have known since those honeymoon days...
And more laughter with them, more sun, more peace. More time with my books. Some time in the water snorkeling with my camera taking pictures of my fish friends. More time with the hubs on the other side while I listen to the waves and he walks and tosses a stick in the sea only to retrieve it and toss it back over and over again. Time to see our dear friend Martin before he retires from our traditional first-night dinner spot.
I am blessed and grateful for this. Not many have this opportunity. In a season where I have felt like I ride an emotional roller coaster coping with grief and sadness and adjustment to loss, I am grateful for this spot that is so many times, my utopia. My solace. My deep breath of peace. It doesn't cure everything, but it does make me feel a bit more whole, a bit more peaceful, a bit more ready to face it all.
