So. Here we go.
Mr. Moon from New Year's Eve. We ate at a little restaurant which was on the second story of a building downtown and we could watch the people passing by below us.
Perhaps these people were divers lined up in front of a dive shop. Or...who knows?
They made their own pasta at this restaurant. It was delicious.
Such a pretty restaurant.
The decorations downtown.
One of the gardener's little rooting places. Even those were pretty.
One of his hibiscus.
And a tiny-petaled orchid.
On our last full day we finally made it to the cemetery. Here are just a few of the shots I took. I love this place. It is like a small village of the dead. Mr. Moon never feels quite comfortable here but I do. It seems to me such a lovely thing to have this place to come to if your family is interned here. Keeping the mausoleum clean and tidy and painted seems like such a nice way to feel close to those who have gone on. To still tend to them and their needs. Or perceived needs, at least.
Here's a smaller family place, but pretty.
Some of the altars are simple.
Some a great deal more complex.
Here is one I always visit and reread what is written on it. The stonework is very typical of Cozumel.
It is the resting place of a woman named Mary who lived and died in Cozumel back some time ago although she was born in the US. I always cry when I read the words her family chose to put here. They are about loving her as a mother, as a wife, as a grandmother and about how much she loved the island which she had chosen to call home. Her husband rests there with her.
A darling baby girl who was eating beside us that day. I asked for permission to take her picture. "Of course!" said her mother and great-grandmother who later proudly told me that the little girl's grandmother (her daughter) was a police officer! Which reminds me of another thing I love about Cozumel- the way the women carry themselves there. They are so strong in their bearing and sure of themselves, too. When you see a mother and a father and children, the father is as apt to be carrying the youngest as the mother is. Perhaps more so.
Ixchel. They have moved her statue and somehow she has lost some fingers. Statues get moved all the time. I have no idea why. I love her, even without those fingers.
In a fight between Mr. Clean and Mr. Musculo, who do you think would win?
Our last visit to Playa Corona.
The last sunset we watched.
And finally, Bagheera letting Mr. Moon give her some love. She only lets a few people even touch her so this is rather huge. She lets me (the one who feeds her!) scratch her head and belly but she never once sat in my lap.
And well, I guess that's about it. It is time to wrap up our journey, as sad as it makes me.
I have my own little world here and it needs tending more than my memories. I've been to the post office and picked up all the mail that accumulated while we were gone. I HAVE to go to the grocery store. And I'm picking August up to spend the night. Next weekend Mr. Moon is taking Owen up to Georgia for a weekend doing man things at the hunting camp and I believe that I'll have Maggie and Gibson over one night while they're off galavanting in the wilds.
I kissed my husband good-bye when he left this morning and we looked at each other and both of us knew what the other was thinking- how different it is to be going off on our different ways now when for the past two weeks we had been together almost every moment, with neither one of us responsible for anything beyond each other.
And that was good.
But this is too.
Balance, I suppose. Life can't be a continual holiday.
Supposedly. And it all makes everything sweeter, the going away together and the coming back to this life we lead in Lloyd.
Ah. Looks like the sun may be coming out. I think I'll risk hanging some clothes out.