Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Hey there. I'm sneaking in a freshly written post. Well, okay. I'm writing it on July 20th and scheduling it to be published (PUBLISHED- HAHA!) on my birthday. I'm here, in Lloyd, but when you read this, if all goes as planned, I will be in Cozumel.
Time travel. Sort of.
And that picture is from a trip we took to Cozumel in 2003. So that was me, six years ago and I hope that today, my birthday, I have a similar evening. Sitting on a balcony, watching the sun set over the Caribbean sea, and being so incredibly happy and delighted with the colors and the drama of the sky as the sun sinks into the horizon that I am beyond words, my Virgin of Guadalupe candle beside me, the swallows darting around my balcony, and the smells of meat and garlic grilling wafting up from a kitchen, my husband within arms' reach. I hope that we have a plan for dinner and that I get up from the balcony when the sun has set and go in and braid my hair up and put on a dress and sparkly mermaid-colored eye shadow and my silver bracelets and we go out into the soft evening air to town and have something so delicious for supper that my eyes roll in pleasure and perhaps tequila will be involved.
Guacamole will be, most definitely.
Mr. Moon asked me the other day what I want for my birthday this year and I said, "For me to wake up on the day and not even know what day it is."
He knew exactly what I meant- that we would be so content with each moment of each day that we completely lose track of time. We have done that before on Cozumel, believe me. Our first trip there, we got to the airport an entire DAY late. Yes, we did.
And one time, I discovered that instead of us having two days left, we only had one and I didn't quit crying until days after we got home.
I am not making this up.
So that's what I hope for today (eight days from when I am writing this now, in Lloyd as the frogs croak and the night embraces my house, my trees, my world). That I wake up and don't even know it's my birthday. That perhaps as we are having breakfast of fruit and eggs and maybe even BACON, that I remember.
"Oh," I will say, as I take another sip of coffee, "I think it might be my birthday."
"Hmmm...." Mr. Moon will say. "What do you want to do today?"
And I will smile and say, "This."
And we will look out over the ocean and we will see people walking by with bags of limes and fish strung on palm frond stems and I will be so glad to be where I am on this, my fifty-fifth birthday with the sea in front of me and my love beside me and an entire day to dance through and a sunset to watch and a supper to eat, wearing silver bracelets, silver earrings and smiling with all my heart.