The sensation of sunlit warmth on my Northern pale skin did not initially materialize as my husband Steve and I settled into temporary digs, our home away from home for three weeks.
It took an entire day to recover from our trip south, an endless 15-hour journey door to door. We are no longer young, although we like to think of ourselves as young-at-heart. But awakening the morning after our travels and the stark truth hits – our minds may be young at heart, or hope or think they are, but our bodies definitely are not.
Chilly temperatures and gray skies greeted us our first morning. Wearing sweatpants and a sweater, I stumbled out of my room for coffee, the smell of fresh-perked java leading me to a patio. Other occupants of our small enclave appeared, also adorned in sweatshirts and pants. I caressed my mug of hot java, conversed with fellow residents, and enjoyed breakfast, a daily repast included in our accommodations.
Four days later I shed body-covering garments, a good thing since my limited supply of warm clothes began to look and smell foul. I finally basked in a delightful atmosphere of cool mornings, sunny, warm days with temperatures in the mid to upper 70s, and cool evenings.
The thought of friends and family dealing with subzero temperatures at home saddened me, but only temporarily. Brightness flooded the air and invaded my body. I could not be unhappy for long. Or nervous or worried about leaving the country for three weeks while a new Presidential administration powered forward. I am powerless to do anything but watch from the sidelines, like millions of my fellow countrymen and women. At least I can view the show from afar, a far away place.
Mexico.
We are experiencing a senior-style, peaceful, laid-back getaway. Frantic and frenetic as the political scene at home may be, I take a deep breath and realize the craziness will play out, probably later than I would hope.
Our plans were made almost a year ago. Things change, especially for senior travelers, but we make arrangements and hope all works out well. This trip hit the sweet spot – missing snow and cold at home, as well as a bitter political landscape.
I want my mind to move beyond the wild political roller coaster the head honchos have the country on. The roller coaster will break down eventually. Meanwhile folks carry on day by day until they don’t. Individuals can handle only so much time on a roller coaster.
I don’t ride roller coasters. My stomach objects, and I listen to my stomach.
The frigid cold weather has moderated back home, but the political scene remains chilling and threatening.
Rumors, and I know they are in jest, circulate that we will not be allowed back in the country when we return home.
Frankly, that’s OK with me.
Now, time for my afternoon siesta.
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