YOU CAN’T GO HOME AGAIN

That’s what Thomas Wolfe said. I didn’t believe him when I moved back to my home town of Asheville, North Carolina, in 1997 to take a job and fell in love with the place all over again. This time we’re talking Ajijic, Mexico. My town of 3 months. We leave in a few days for Charlotte, hoping for one more glimpse of baby Hazie & her parents. Early Saturday we’ll head back to Mexico. Will it feel like home?

This trip has been strange from the start. Trying to coordinate with new parents and old friends and business associates. Making calls. Calculating expenses. It’s all been tough. The gears are not in sync. The planets are out of alignment. Exhausting, expensive, cold/wet. One car. One key. Two schedules. Ben’s been sick but pushing forward. It worries me. Thank you to the friends who have gone out of their way to help us manage this. And those who offered but we had to decline to (try to) keep things simple.

Somehow in the midst of it all I’ve found clarity about what direction to take when we get home. I know I need dedicated time to seek out blogging topics and to write. Dedicated time to study and practice Spanish. I need more sun than gloom. Maybe it’s just the newness of it all (is that so bad?) that makes me feel alive and motivated. After all the moving as a child and young adult, maybe I’m just acclimated to changing scenery periodically. I knew as soon as we came back this time that it is not where I want or need to be. Always a dreamer. A romantic. “I live in Mexico.” “You do? That’s so cool!” Can’t help it. There’s a bigger world out there. Sometimes your box just feels too small. Am I trying to be something I’m not? Or am I trying to be the best I can be? Time will tell.

POST SCRIPT: A few days ago I felt myself a victim until I found a poster hanging on a restaurant wall. What timing. It grounded me for what happened next. I spent Tuesday morning at my doctor’s office, visiting with former coworkers and having my annual exam. A friend picked me up for lunch and took me shopping for a few things not available in Ajijic. Seconds after she said – Haven’t we had a nice relaxing afternoon? – a white construction truck came from out of nowhere racing to get in front of us, maneuvering through the tight space between us and the nearby lane of rush hour traffic. In a split second he smashed into our car as he roared by, nearly forcing us off the road into the nearby trees. Mary controlled the car like a champ and moved forward trying to catch up with him. No way. He was GONE. A retired lawyer, Mary maintained calm and made all the necessary calls after pulling off into a parking lot. Uber to the rescue after Officer Cox left. Riding home with Ben every passing car sent a jolt through my system and the smell of burning rubber lodged in my nose. Lavender oil, arnica pellets and Tylenol helped me through the night. Today I’m sore and tired (Mary’s doing well.) and baffled by someone’s willingness to “hit & run”. Having trouble staying grounded. But at the same time feeling grateful and blessed that it was so minor. No one stopped. No one pulled over to check on us. I don’t understand. This would not happen in Mexico. It’s strange to be hurt or sick in a country other than your home. You want your bed, familiar surroundings. We’re 3 days from flying back to Mexico. I’m ready to go home.