On June 20th, I landed in Kingston Jamaica. I meant to write about it a long time ago but never did. Think of this as a #tbt post. 🙂
Of course, when I got back everyone asked how the trip was. That’s tough to answer because I was there to support Shaunie at her Grandfathers funeral and to see my ailing Aunt.
I love going there though – No matter the reason. At this point, I have lived in the US longer than I lived there but it will never not be home.
It’s the place where my Aunts car got brazenly stolen out of her driveway and it ended up taking about two months just for her to get the police report – so I had to ask a friend to come pick me up from the airport.
It’s the place where the friend was late to pick me up. Even though I had told him an earlier time than I really needed because I knew he’d be late. I say that with so much love.
But it’s also the place where the fruit is the juiciest and you can always find someone willing to help you if you just ask.
My pictures show me posed up at the brand new (and the only) Starbucks on the island; yummy frappuccino in hand. They show me grinning next to long-time friends while the sun shines down on us, sipping on blended drinks beside a pool and leaned up against a coconut tree surrounded by gorgeous flowers. There is even video of us enjoying a ride on a floaty device being pulled by a speed boat.
In the beautiful hills of St Ann, as a family, we went for walks and ate fish and cleaned ackee and argued over who ate the last of the mangoes – and worked hard getting the hall ready for the hundreds of people who would show up for the memorial service.
It was a long, but lovely service and it was abundantly clear just how loved Mr N was and how much he’d be missed. In the front section that was marked off just for family, there were about 80 of us, representing 5 generations, from all over the world, and all wearing royal blue.
The following day we all went to the beach – to exhale.
Sun and sand and the ocean and boat rides and dolphin shows and drinks and the laughter of children are healing.
It’s unfortunate that it takes things like funerals to bring people together. It was wonderful that we could all get together.
I hated to see my Aunty like that. She looked so delicate. Every time she got up to walk it gave me anxiety because I was so worried that she’d fall and hurt herself. Again.
Any time with her is incredibly precious and it brings us both so much joy and comfort. As hard as it was to leave, I was happier that I had seen her at all and filled her in on all our adventures and gone shopping with her and hugged her and laughed with her and scolded her for trying to do too much and enjoyed world cup matches with her and prayed with her.
I don’t know when I’ll go to Jamaica again. There are no plans in the works. Both the boys passports have expired though and I know that the next time I go, I’d like them to go also. The paperwork is all filled out and we’re gonna go renew the passports this weekend – so they’ll be ready.
Plus, the in-laws are moving to the Virgin Islands so I’m sure we’ll want to go there soon.
The very next trip we take will be an actual vacation. I can’t wait. The boys are going to spend 2 1/2 weeks in Florida with my Mom and Shaunie and I are going on a cruise and then right to the Dominican Republic for a friends wedding. So exciting! It will be a nice respite from all the other craziness happening around us. Stuff with this damn government and stuff with Jay and stuff with loved ones. Nope. Not gonna go there. Let’s go back to thinking about my upcoming vacay. Yup. Much nicer.
Talk to you soon.