Bittersweet

I have loved living in Mexico; it is one of the most reckless and exciting things I have ever done in my life.  I have loved the Mexican people and have come to the conclusion that people are basically the same regardless of where they live or what language they speak.  I have met and been a part of the cruising community, people who travel the world in their little floating homes challenging nature in its rawest form, and telling the most exciting and gripping stories as calmly as though they accidentally spilled a cup of coffee. I have loved living on a boat, although I have never lived in any house where I've been subject to daily head bumps and nearly weekly slips on steps. I have loved the desert, the beautiful colors, the long periods of time when there is no rain, indeed no rain AT ALL for seven… no count them again seven (7) months.  I have loved the weather, the unpredictable winds, which have names like coromuel, and chubasco and pineapple express, and sneak up on you while you sleep at night and surprise you every time.  I loved the sailing; true it was a bluebird trip without the test of high waves or the necessity of life preserving techniques, but the sea life I saw will live with me forever.  I will always laugh when I think of the sea lion basking in the sun, laid out on his back, not willing to even acknowledge our presence when we took our boat within 10 feet of where he was leisurely floating.  I will always smile when I recall the excitement of the pod of dolphins that swam along side of our boat, dodging in and out beneath our bow, seemingly attempting to see how close they can get to a moving boat within being crushed to smithereans.  I have seen stingrays doing a ballet and the tail of a whale. I will always remember how exciting it is to explore a new anchorage in a dingy, cruising among the rock outcroppings and finding the most outstanding tropical fish I have ever seen.  I now know what it’s like to sleep out on the hook and to see the sky and billions of stars without the ambient light of the city.  I know what it is like to live without utility companies, taking our power from the sun and the wind.  I survived, and enjoyed, a trip all the way across the United States of America, from sea to shining sea and then down the mysterious Baja, where stories of banditos, scorpions, Gila Monsters, and drugs lord abound.....and I have loved virtually every minute of it.  I have so many stories that I can tell children and grandchildren (whose number continue to grow in my absence).

But with this blog it will be the beginning of the end of  Milagro Adventure for me.  I know I will have more to share with you, but I have decided to move back to the States in June, and it seemed appropriate to let my friends know my intentions as soon as those intentions became clear to me. 

As I said before, I have had a wonderful time in Mexico, but this is the Captain’s dream on which I have chosen to tag along.  I am 66 years old, and it’s becoming ever more obvious to me that we get one trip through this life, and even though it’s been a hoot being here and sharing this adventure with the Captain, I need to move on to those things that I have put off for so long, things which will fulfill me as a person.  There are still things I hope to achieve, things which mean a great deal to me, and not one of us is promised a single tomorrow.  I have a driving need in my life to do something that, if by no other measurement than my own, counts for something. 

I want to have a closer tie to my family.  I have been so far away from Katie for the last few years that I hardly know the young woman she's become. We were a big part of her life when she was a little girl, and now she is beginning to plan her college career.  I miss her dearly.  At the rate they are growing the McCoy children will be grown up and moved on too, without knowing me or me really knowing them.  Jamie and Brandon are both taller than I am now, and are getting more grown up day by day. Before long it will be uncool to have a grandmother, or Mimi as they call me now, and I will have lost them too.  Ah, and there are more grand-children to come!

And what about our kids? Of course they are all grown up and all independent and on their own, musicians, doctors, mothers, professionals, but it makes me feel like I am still wanted and needed when Roger calls me up to discuss possible strep symptoms, and wants to know what I think he should do. Or when Heather emails us wanting to know if it's "all right" for her to play the old family violin her husband Danny has been repairing for us. Or when Amy and Jeff says yes, they would like us to stay the the children when they travel to bring home two new McCoys. Or when Teena calls just to make sure everything's o.k.  Or when Holly calls saying she, needs "mommy time." I am continually charmed when any one, or sometimes as a group, the kids recall something that happened when they were growing up, and they credit me for something special that I did for them.  Sometimes, its little things like that makes the journey worth the traveling. I don't want all those wonderful things to be over.  I want new stories to tell next year, and the year after that, and I want to have an important role in the lives of those that I love, and I just do not believe that I can accomplish that in Mexico. 
I want to make a mark in the world for which I will be remembered. For years I have thought that I had a place in the Peace Corps.  I feel that I have an amazing amount to give, and I need to find just the right way to make that contribution.  I don’t really think that it will be in the Peace Corps at this stage of my life, but I remember something very important that the Captain has said to me, in one form or another, over the years; you don’t have to go to Africa to find people who need special care, love and attention. That need exists in every place we have ever lived.  He is absolutely right.  The need for loving care and understanding probably looms in everybody’s neighborhood, or at least in every city in our country.  In Mexico, I participated in some of the most worthy charities and fund raisers you could imagine.  I sold raffle tickets, and used clothes, and worked hard on committees whose jobs it was to conduct these special events.  But at no time did I meet the children, or the poor, or the cancer patients I was trying to help.  I believe now that I am ready to get down in the trenches and be a part of the solution in a hands-on way.  I know that I could do that in Mexico, but I can also do that and be near my family in the States, and that’s what I am going to do.

I can't really imagine how it’s going to be, living without my Captain, my friend and companion for over 30 years now, but his dream is important too.  I would never ask that he change or compromise what has been his dream and driving ambition for so long.  After an incredible amount of conversation, discussion, and more than the occasional tear, the Captain and I are at peace with being separated for the while that it may take for each of us to follow our own dream. My thanks to the Captain who took me along on this wonderful adventure in Mexico, but even more important supported me, and encouraged me to seek out the fulfillment that I have been so desperately needing. And he'll be at my side on the journey home.