It had been over 15 years since my last trip to Merida. My mom and dad packed us all up for three weeks. We spent a few days in my grandmother’s beach house – the one with the sand driveway and the coconut tree. I drove in Mexico for the first time (a volcho, of course) and carted us from Uxmal to Chichen and any small towns in between that caught our attention. We ate home-cooked, Yucatecan meals with family all over town – relleno negro, panuchos, chocolomo, puchero… and we snacked on every local fruit we could get our hands on. It was an awesome trip.
So awesome, that is was easy to lose sight of the trip’s real purpose. My father, having recently recovered from a brain surgery, was saying his farewells to family, friends and most importantly his dad. At the end of every meal there were profound goodbyes and life-gripping hugs that would leave me goose-bumped and mute until our next stop. It was a truly wonderful trip but none of the smiles that live in the hundreds of photographs can undo the sadness that we left with. Enormous sigh.
It is no wonder that I had butterflies in my stomach the entire week ahead of our trip a couple of weeks ago. I was desperate for new memories to layer over the intensity of that trip with my dad. I wanted images of the 10yo hopping waves on the beach. I wanted to see his face filled with the awe and wonder at the site of Chichen Itza. I was eager to see the world that has turned my mother into a vibrant and smiling woman again. We managed to do all of that and squeeze in the much-needed rest that was deserved.
We’ve returned energized, inspired and ready to make things again. Lots of music, food, photography, and journaling going on in the house. I’ll be sharing more about the local food and our trip in the coming weeks as I process it all. In the meantime, there will be plenty of pictures to peek at in my flickr stream.
Happy weekend to you all!