Travel, Arrive … Exhale… My Birthday Trip Day 1
My flight isn’t wheels up until 1025 so there’s ample time to throw in clothes I don’t need and take out others. I grin as I pack the pink and orange bikini top I bought almost a year ago but have never worn. I’m so not a bikini girl! Or, not until this vacation I wasn’t. But I sure as hell am going to wear it, at least once!
Finally, it’s time to head to the airport. My Favorite Husband and I travelled quite a bit together so the nuances of travel is something I’m quite comfortable with.
Driving to the airport, parking - none of it phases me. Checkin in was a beautiful experience- I purchased Premium seating, upfront, treating myself to flying in style. I knew the checkin agent from years of working with him! Such a beautiful encounter. Boarding - a hug and love from a heart sister to carry with me. And then knowing the crew- catching up, getting love. Sinking into my seat, heart full, tummy full.
I can feel the tiniest exhale, the smallest loosening of my muscles. I can feel the minuscule lift of exhaustion - just the slightest realization that soon I’ll be alone and without obligations.
I nap. I chat sporadically with my seat mate. I own my space.
Upon landing I exit, clear customs easily and purposefully stride past the timeshare vendors hawking their accommodation “Senorita, you come with me I will take you where you need to be”. … but you won’t. And I’m tired and trying not to be grumpy so I’ll paste a fake smile on my face and stride by. As I exit into the common area I see a shy young man with a tentative smile holding an “authorized taxi” sign. “Senorita, you need a taxi”? “I do but how do I know you’re an authorized taxi”? “I will take you to the booth”. And so I follow along as he takes me to a booth and I negotiate my fare into town.
I exit the terminal and the shy young man walks me to a cab where I meet a very handsome taxi driver approximately my age. Dark hair with threads of silver, Omar and I locked eyes in the rearview mirror frequently. Merely conversation or an opportunity to practice my flirting skills? His English was poor, my Spanish equally so. But those chocolate brown eyes and my hazel ones said more than the words we attempted. He asked if I was here alone. I said yes and, as his gaze puzzled I said “Mi espouso es morte”. Sadness reflected back at me but I said it was ok. For really, it is. Some things in life are unchangeable so acceptance is the only route. I fumbled and found the words to say I was here for my birthday - cumpluanos. He boldly asked how old and professed shock at the number… such a gentleman!
And far too soon we arrived at the resort. We said goodbye and awkwardly looked at each other before we simultaneously reached out for a hug. I’m not sure I’ve ever hugged a taxi driver before but it seemed like the right thing to do.
The resort I’m at is smaller - under 300 rooms- and seems intimate. It’s off season so it’s far from full which I like. It’s also inching into rainy season so there are brief showers to cool the intense heat.
I went into my room - a deluxe, king bed, ocean view (go big or go home) and immediately stepped onto the balcony. I breathed in the tang of salt water- there really is no smell like the ocean! Deciding my arrival needed to be toasted, I grabbed a cold beer from the minibar and sat back out on the balcony. …. And saw the bird perched in the small alcove on my balcony wall. I’m not a fan of birds but I’ve been told that they can be signs from departed loved ones. The bird eyed me and then chirped… I listened, told it to stop and listened while he chirped a bit more. And then, short on patience, I asked the damn thing if he was done yet because I was done listening! If it was MFH maybe he was celebrating my holiday, lecturing me on practicing my flirting with the cab driver or just being a bird but he decided he was done and left…..
Tired, grumpy and a bit hungry I found my way to the Mexican a la carte restaurant. I was seated inside and initially thought it a slight - seating for a single woman. But the truth is that I had a window seat inside. An attentive waiter that introduced me to tamarind margaritas and in a season slow for tourists each server deserved to have someone seated in their section of the restaurant. I’m glad my common sense prevailed. I had a great meal with wonderful service that included a tamarind margarita to take up to my room. I was not slighted - I was embraced. I need this holiday even more than I realized.
After my excellent meal I headed back to my room, struggling to keep my eyes open as I sipped my beverage. I sent an exhausted message to two of my heart sisters. You see I had initially come down here intending to celebrate 60 for me and MFH. But whether it’s exhaustion, rebellion or exhausted rebellion I’ve decided that it’s greedily a celebration for me alone. Oh I will cherish his memory, our love and our life together. But I’ve also decided that it’s fine- more than fine- that I celebrate me. They sent back messages of love and support and I prepared for sleep, having made one decision in a week where many may be made.
Before I shut the lights off, I heard booming outside of my window- fireworks! I LOVE fireworks! I ran to my balcony and like a child delighted with light, color and magic, my gaze fixated on the red, purple, green and white light show that showered in the night! Yes, they are set off frequently - I heard a rumour that different resorts take turns with the night show. But I chose to believe they were for me. A celebration for my vacation. A celebration for all that I am and will be.
A celebration for my next day - a day of beach rotting and wearing that damn bikini top! Who cares if I don’t have a bikini body! In a week where I’m hoping to stop and claim back me, it’s a first move….
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