September and October, 2019

This journal idea isn’t working out as planned. As you can tell just by the titles of each blog I’ve gone from monthly to combining months. Then, if you read each month, you’ll see how my enthusiasm for daily posts waned as the summer went on. Partly this was due to activities at the time, but mostly my growing lack of interest was emotionally based. On just about every level, the summer of 2019 stunk!

The only memorable high point was Lyla learning to swim. Like many of Lydia’s students, mostly 3-5 year olds, she was pretty ambivalent about the water. She liked it early on, but the lessons got old and she went through a stage when she came up with every imaginable excuse not to get her face wet. But early this summer, whatever causes a toddler’s light bulb to brighten happened to Lyla. All of a sudden she was a fish. Swimming everywhere and never wanting to get out of the pool. Though Lydia was delighted, she’d seen it dozens of times over the years. But for me, it was magical. For the first time in her life I had a way to really, physically relate to my granddaughter. We both loved to play in the water. And we did, at least once a week all summer long.

September and October

At our pool in coastal South Carolina swimming season lasted as long as we felt like paying for propane. Since it takes about an hour to raise the temperature 1 degree, there comes a point where the benefits of swimming get overrun by the cost of heating the water. Typically that happens in early October. This year we made it until the middle of the month. Finally, cooler nights prevail and I call the gas company and tell them to stop deliveries.

Living in a marginally sub-tropical climate, cooler nights are refreshing, but unlike friends in Charleston, who can’t wait to break out their jeans and sweatshirts, Lydia and I become gloomy. Our backyard comes alive when we’re in the pool, and it starts to die when we can no longer swim. Fall is not a particularly pretty season in the Lowcountry and we don’t relish its onset.

As September faded into October, and our house was still on the market, though at a dramatically reduced price even after we had spent $10,000 to repaint and stage for the new realtors, our mood was increasingly dour. We fought with each other. We fought with family. We drank more and generally became more and more miserable. We had to do something to get back in control of the situation. So, what the hell, we decided to go ahead and move to Mexico anyway. We were living in a strange house filled with worry about everything. Let’s get out, we decided. And so the planning for a Fall escape began.

As usual, once motivated, it took Lydia no time to find suitable accommodations in Puerto Aventuras. For six months beginning at the end of October, we would be living on the same street where we had spent 6 weeks last winter, only this time we would be on the canal rather than across the street. Of course it was more money than I wanted to spend, but that’s always the case. We justified the whole thing by saying that living in Mexico would still be cheaper than staying home, save for having to pay rent. But the big thing, far more important than money was our relationship and our sanity. We have to do something to at least get back some control.

So we did finally enjoy our final days in Mount Pleasant. Lydia made lists, researched and sold whatever stuff we could. We started packing early so we could get some kind of handle on what we’d need to take. It’s not everyday you pack for a six month stay in a foreign country. Meanwhile, I started a job for a client and got the yard ready for winter. I still had to get up to a strange house every morning. Watch TV only in our bedroom, because it was the only one we could keep. And entertain without our bar. Not the same, but at least we now had something to look forward to and a date of departure.

Our friends helped by having us over for dinner or joining us out. They planned a couple of going away parties and volunteered to store things we couldn’t leave in the house. Matt and Lisa gave us a great farewell dinner, making it as much like our traditional Christmas dinner as possible (standing-rib-roast) and Lyla and Miles were there to keep us in good cheer.

Then, very, very early (3:30 am) on Tuesday, October 29th, we took an Uber to the airport and began what will be the next phase of our life together. We were flying first class to avoid baggage fees, that would have brought coach tickets to within a few dollars of what we paid for first class. We each checked two bags, carried one plus a backpack each. Three of the suitcases weighed well in excess of the limit, but, as we had hoped, they made it through at no additional cost - sometimes it pays to fly first class. We flew from Charleston to Miami to Cancun, where we landed at 9:30 in the morning, local time. Our driver was a little late because, being in first class and being the first plane into Cancun that morning, we made it through immigration and customs in record time. We stopped at our local Chedraui supermarket on the way in to Puerto Aventuras and were in our new home just a little after noon.

From here it’s our history in the making.