Moving Past the Disappointment
After being cooped up with one another during the worst of Covid, Tate and I need to get away. Far away.
I save up for us to take a trip down to Mexico so we can look out at the bright blue wide open ocean and lie on the warm sand, swim in the calm surf. This is exactly what we both need, frankly, that expansive feeling only the ocean gives.
When we check into our hotel, giddy and excited to throw our bags into the room and get into the salty water, the front desk tells us in a nonchalant kind of way that the ocean is closed and list other activities in town we might consider.
I say, hopeful, “Wait a minute, back up a second, please - did you just say the ocean is closed? That was a joke, right?”
Tate is staring at the woman, who hasn’t smiled since we arrived, as intently as I am.
“No joke, Ma’am.” Silence.
This is the reason we’re here. To be in and at the ocean. We’ve plenty of pools at home. Certainly, I’d never spend this kind of money to come all the way here to sit by a pool. I’m distraught.
Tate listens to the explanation I ask for, which I don’t even hear. She nods graciously. I watch this response of hers and yet can’t pull myself together.
Who’s the adult here?
We unpack, though I’m hesitant. Why bother when all I want to do is go home. I’m gray - inside and out. We talk about how shocking it is, about Mother Earth and why this is happening.
I’m feigning looking on the bright side, still feeling grateful. Inside, I fret about the money I spent for nothing.
We can’t even walk on the beach - my favorite thing to do; it’s covered a hundred feet deep in toxic, stinky seaweed.
*
We’ve been busy enough, being creative in choosing how to spend our time. We’ve had our hair braided, eaten street elote, played in the pool, taken bike rides, visited ruins and cenotes.
Still, I’ve not let it go.
On the fourth day, my girl, finally exasperated by my inability to move past the disappointment. lets me have it.
“GET OVER IT, Mom! We’re here. We’re having fun. We’re still in Mexico. It’s a beautiful hotel. Come on! Stop complaining. There’s nothing they or we can do about it.”
This child, so clear. Pours a bucket of cold water over my head with how she calls me out.
One hundred percent. She’s right.
How can she be smarter than me? More accepting? More mature? Who taught her to move on with such grace?
Here I am, humbled by her wisdom, yet again.
It’s the young me, who always had trouble setting her heart on things and being devastated when they didn’t go her way, that’s relentlessly held the wheel since we arrived.
I decide to follow my brave young girl, Tate. Instead of my own, inner child. And be present. Enjoy what we were given and make the most of our time in Mexico.
Accept what IS.
What is - is warm weather, blue skies, salty air, a different culture and foods and language, fun new beds, outdoor showers, all we really needed and more to mix things up.
Sigh.
There’s always so much more growing up to do. Parenting does such a good job of highlighting that for me…
