This week I made an unplanned trip to Texas to say my goodbyes to an elderly family member who passed. I was at a local eatery today when I got a big surprise.
Into Central Market walked a friend that I haven’t seen in more than ten years. The clincher is, she lives in Mexico! Dee was in Austin to sell her car. She lives in Northern Mexico and we’ve been in touch and follow each other on social media. I knew she was in town but did not expect to run into her. Austin really is a small, big city.
I’m so grateful that I got the X-ray and pain meds from my doctor. I guess two weeks with the inability to cough, laugh, sneeze, and turn over in bed, not to mention the screaming in pain, finally overcame my stubbornness. I suppose that the management of pain never crossed my mind as “something that can be done”.
Sometimes I’m just plain stupid.
It’s amazing how we use our upper body and arms for so many things, like standing from a seated position. I found myself scooting forward and using my legs to stand. All those squats came in handy. Do try it.
A full moon week.
There will be no bicep curls, bench presses or push ups for awhile. I can’t even carry a pitcher of water from the refrigerator to the counter. I am feeling better and this week we’ll begin cutting back on the meds. I hope it will clear my fuzzy brain a bit,
Sunday sunrise on Lake Bacalar.
Google says six to eight weeks. Today is three. I must admit to looking longingly at my gym clothes while selecting pajamas and sweatpants for daily attire. Sigh.
A little vid of our home and property.
I will continue to rest and stay drugged as needed. I am supremely grateful to my wife for taking such good care of me, and Dr. Oscar for the pain management. Life is good. So for another week, be well and don’t trip over any air mattresses.
We got a very unexpected message on Monday. Our dear friend Gabriel had died. He was 63. On Sunday,Gabriel had just placed second in the annual Laguna Bacalar kayak marathon when he complained of not feeling well. Two heart attacks later, the doctors could not revive him.
Mexico is our home for ten years and we still have much to learn. One thing that we have learned is that when someone tells you that you are family they mean it. That was certainly the case with Gabriel.
Mexico City 2017
We met about eight years ago when I was out kayaking and saw him and his wife Monica pull up to a dock in their motor boat. Lisa badly wanted to ski and this was my attempt to make friends with someone who had a boat. It is hard to describe but we’ve been family ever since.
From that day on we were included in so many activities, dinners, parties, and assorted family get togethers, including his daughter’s wedding. We know their children, grandchildren and extended family. When Lisa and I married in California in 2014, Monica and Gabriel put on a reception for us at a local restaurant. It was so much fun.
There were even two brides on the cake!
In Mexico, when someone dies, they are laid out at home. A vigil was held and as word got around on Monday, people showed up with food and flowers. Family flew in from all over the world.
His life jacket and paddle rested on the coffin.
Gabriel’s body was cremated and on Tuesday there was the most amazing funeral I’ve ever attended. Boats, kayakers and paddle boarders all gathered on the far side of the Laguna. The wind made it hard to hear but it was clear that Gabriel was beloved by many. His daily Insta sunrise photos will be missed.
Laid to rest in his beloved laguna.With his beloved Monica. Maya, his chihuahua will miss him terribly.Picking me up on our dock for a day of sailing.
It has been a hard week. I am still processing. We also celebrated Lisa’s birthday and remembered the death anniversary of my brother. Gabriel had a full and wonderful life. That’s what I want to remember.
DOS TORTAS
It is not important how long your life is but how you live it. Adiós Gabriel.
Living in the tropics makes us vulnerable to hurricanes, plain and simple. Over the years we have taken measures to ensure our safety and ability to ride out whatever Mother Nature throws at us.
Facing the Laguna.
After several years of mopping up water on our screened porch, we added hurricane shutters. Our biggest threat is wind. I imagined a branch flying through our screens. Yikes.
“X” marks the spot. At the time this was posted, it wasn’t even raining at our house. Bacalar waiting for the rain from Hurricane Lisa.
Since we are not on the ocean, there is no fear of storm surge. We have built drainage both outside and in. At some point we’d like to add solar as back up. The other option is a generator. In the nine years we have lived here, we’ve been very very lucky.
The morning after.
We finally got some wind and a downpour during the night. My wife slept through it all.
We got home Wednesday from a two-week toodle to the US. I went for my annual physical and a mammogram. We also got ANOTHER Covid booster. The main reason for the visit however was for Lisa to see the orthopedic surgeon for follow-up and release of care. She had a spinal fusion one year ago. We had the appointment booked months out. The doctor’s office cancelled the day before.
Up and at ‘em within hours of surgery 2021.
Trips to the US are quite involved. First there’s the flight. We buy more expensive tickets in order to fly direct, no layovers. Sitting for hours on planes, shuffling through security, waiting in line in airports, taxis and buses, all takes its toll on our bodies. It’s a twelve hour return travel day and that’s only to an hotel in Puerto Morelos. There’s another four hour bus ride to Bacalar the following day. It takes two days of travel to and from Austin.
Puerto Morelos 30 minutos from Cancun airport.
The Veterans Administration picked up the tab for Lisa’s original surgery. There is insurance for procedures that the VA hospitals aren’t equipped to perform. Silly us, we assumed that approving the surgery would include the final release of care appointment. Sigh.
We did manage to visit family and friends, eat some good food and celebrate Mexican Independence Day – Texas style.
A lovely day hanging out poolside.Dos Tortas with our eldest son.
How on earth did I live to seventy? I remind myself frequently that many people don’t get here. You can read everyday in the news where people fall off mountains, piss off the wrong crazy, or just wind up in the wrong place at the wrong time. Living to seventy is definitely a blessing and a gift I don’t take lightly.
Michael on my right. My hand is on the surgical scar where his scull was cut open and stapled together again.
My brother didn’t make it. He had a damn brain tumor.
I do my best to not leave life up to chance. I eat salads, go to the gym and not live in…you know, Croatia, Panama, Sri Lanka, or the US.
On Thursday a rapid home test came back inconclusive.
I know death will catch up with me eventually. This week I had a fever and was certain I had Covid. It’s hard not to be paranoid these days when absolutely everyone I know, including my four year old granddaughters has it. Breathe, relax.
My negative test results.
I’m doing my best to be peaceful and live in the moment, and praying for everyone, including you.
“Cold showers are any showers with a water temperature below 70°F (21.1C). They may have health benefits. Water therapy (also called hydrotherapy) has been used for centuries to take advantage of our body’s tendency to adapt to harsher conditions. As a result, our bodies become more resistant to stress.” (Google)
I’m not sure the water temperature coming out of our shower is below 70 degrees, but compared to the sweaty jungle temps of Bacalar, Mexico, it definitely feels cold.
Danskin sprint distance triathlon back in the day.
When I was training to run the Austin marathon, our coach suggested sitting in an ice bath. First sit in enough water to cover the legs, then have someone slowly add ice. Amazingly, the process helps tremendously with recuperating from muscle soreness and strain, and wasn’t as painful as it sounds.
Capital of Texas Triathlon May 2003
I recently watched this Netflix documentary called The Ice Dive. A fascinating world record that I have no wish to challenge.
Laguna Bacalar never really gets cold, in spite of what the locals think. Winter is actually my favorite time to swim, as the water feels too much like soup most of the year.
Preparing for the Bacalar open water competition.
Weird as I am, I’ve come to like my “cold” showers. Give it a try. I think the benefits will amaze you. Let me know how it goes.
Life is slowly returning to pre-Covid days which for me includes Thursday night drawing class. This week we had a group of about eight meeting on the second floor over the Pirate bar. We draw with our non-dominant hand, left handed for me, which helps to develop hand/eye coordination.
Left handed drawing.
The evening started out delightfully with a shapely model. All too often we have young, skinny models with no hips or butt. During a break someone turned on music that was louder than I liked. Then the model, while posing for a longer sketching period, began reading aloud in Spanish. With the reading and the music, it was hard for me to concentrate. Then someone lit a cigarette! Yikes.
My head began to spin. Needless to say I’m the oldest artist in the room. I know how old people are labeled cranky or finicky. While I didn’t want to come across that way, it was exactly how I felt!
An enjoyable evening turned into an internal dialogue with the teacher, requesting that the class suit my needs, turn down the music, and NO smoking. I was clearly no longer having fun. So I gathered my things and left.
During the days that followed, I have realized that it is not the responsibility of the group to meet my needs. If someone smokes, I am quite capable of asking them to go outside. I will also bring my earplugs, as I do in the gym, to protect my hearing.
I am so privileged in many ways here in Mexico. An older, white (from the US) educated, wealthyish woman is pretty much at the top of the heap. Time to check my privilege at the door.
Naked reading.
So I give myself permission to leave the class if I need to, without the angst and self recrimination, and I realize that privilege means that something that is a problem for me is not necessarily a problem for anyone else.
Right before I left for California to see my daughter and her family, the US lifted the requirement for wearing masks on airplanes. I wore one anyway, as did most people.
We walked into this show four minutes before the curtain went up. It was amazing,
As a matter of fact, I wore a mask at all indoor events, shopping, museum visits, theater and a K.T. Tunstall concert. The only place I didn’t wear one was at home with family.
Fun at the Blue Note in Napa CA
The vacation was a lot of fun. Last Monday when I landed in Mexico City on my way home, I received a message from my daughter that my son-in-law had tested positive for Covid. Shit. He had driven me to the airport and hugged me goodbye.
This week I have tested negative twice after wearing a mask at home as a precaution. I’m getting back into routine and recovering from the change in time zones. You wouldn’t think two hours could make such a difference. Getting old sucks.
A big shout out to blog follower RudeinNewYork who sent me a box of Covid antigen rapid home tests. They are not available in Bacalar and frankly it never occurred to me to bring some back.
One of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me.
My doctor advised that if I tested positive to start antivirals. I found an agency that would deliver the medication to our door in four hours for a mere $950 us. We decided to pass. It seems I dodged a bullet. Please be careful out there.
Whenever I visit the States, there’s a list of items to bring home to Mexico. They are things we can’t get where we live, or they are exorbitantly priced. All the corners of my suitcase get filled.
There’s also been a couple of trips to local eateries, Japanese and Middle Eastern. When I raise my eyes at the prices, my daughter reports, “that’s just the way it is”. I guess that’s why we live in Mexico.
Heaven on earth.
There have been three kid’s parties this weekend and today is Mother’s Day. That’s a lot of socializing for this introvert.
Friday afternoon was my grandson’s school talent show. From kindergarteners to eighth graders, children danced, tumbled, sang and played drums, piano and guitar. I was moved by their fearlessness. There wasn’t a savant among them, but I loved it anyway.
DOS TORTAS
We all have the mother we have. For some it is a happy relationship, for others it is a sadness. For some it is a blessed memory, for others a painful reminder. Motherhood itself is as we experience it. For some a vocation, for others a choice intentionally untaken. Today I want to invite us all to gather around these mixed truths of our mothers, celebrating the joy it means to so many, acknowledging the reserved response of many others. We all have the mother we have. We are all siblings of that reality, however we encounter it. May the Spirit bless us, with love or healing, as we embrace this day in our own way. And may the mothers we have be a door: to our thanksgiving and to our wisdom. Rev. Stephen Charleston
the adventures of dos tortas 
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