I hobbled down to the water’s edge, carefully making my way over the steep sand bank that together with torn apart palapas and various floating debris were left behind in the wake of Mexico’s recent hurricane Patricia.
I had not seen the Pacific Ocean in almost two years since moving to central Mexico in March of 2014, miles and miles away from anything coastal. You’d think I’d be over-the-moon excited to be right next to something that was such an important part of my life growing up in Southern California—that I’d have jumped right into the water and frolicked around!
I wanted to…really bad—but my brain and my body were not fully coordinating yet since my recent spinal surgery. In fact, they felt much like that marred beach.
As a little girl growing up across from Windansea Beach in La Jolla, California, the ocean used to lullaby me to sleep. Laying in the solitude of my bedroom at night, the ebb and flow of the waves created an almost perceptible aura of magic and safety. The ocean was a surrogate parent, an ultimate soother and a safe refuge in a house of conflict and divorce.
Upon meeting the water’s edge, I immediately realized that the strength of the current and the weight of the waves were just too much for my fragile balance and still very present pain. Frustrated, defeated and disheartened, I returned to sit down on the sand—a good distance from the water and my family—and had a good cry behind the partial concealment of my sunglasses.
My kids played, swam, laughed and splashed around with their daddy to their heart’s content. Seeing this, even through my snotty nose and failed attempts to choke back the tears, gifted me great joy and happiness in an otherwise very challenging first afternoon in Manzanillo.
I would like to chalk my emotional response to just having had a shitty attitude, but truth be told, my spinal recovery has been no small walk in the park, and being next to a real life, 3-D underwater adventureland was just more of an in-my-face reminder of my limitations. I have had to dig deep to get through this, every single day…every single step.
Life can change on a dime, often, when you least expect it or have not “prepared for it”. Health issues, death, relocations, eyebrow-raising, heart-stopping news—significant events that are all part of this dynamic kaleidoscope of life and its many chapters and dimensions.
This scouting trip to Manzanillo has ultimately resulted in our decision to not move there—at least not for now. And that’s okay. Some plans are made and kept, others change, some get readjusted, or others…completely rerouted.
We are not trees, planted in one place forever.
Colorado?! What? The U.S.A.? What?! Leave Mexico?! What about Los O’Gradys in Mexico? What, what, what about….?
If you had told me a month ago that moving back to the States was in our not so distant future, I would have thought that possibility far-fetched and not based in any tangible reality. But certain circumstances and opportunities have presented themselves and a move is most likely in our cards.
How, when and where are details that are unfolding and making themselves clearer to us every day.
There are also many unknowns and that is okay too.
As to whether or not I will continue Los O’Gradys in Mexico for our time left in Mexico, I am not sure. My most immediate focus is on continuing to regain my strength and health and being present and supportive of my family as we join hands during another phase of transition and discovery.
I know there are many of you out there—both silent and public—that have supported and followed us since I first began Los O’Gradys in Mexico 3 years ago. I am deeply humbled and grateful for your readership and support.