Home Forever

That is how I feel: I am home forever. What happened to my sense of adventure and discovery? Maybe it's in Pastville with my hair and libido and my stamina and enthusiasm. The flight from Vancouver to Puerto Vallarta is 4.5 hours; yesterday our driver picked us up at 10:30 am and it was 13 hours, some of them very trying, before I was home in my condo.

And now it is Saturday morning and there is no cat here and neither is there Frani, Chris, Jessica, Todd, Sahara or Hudson. I am good at being alone but not for a couple of days after being with the Humphrey/Jared clan. I am blessed to have them in my life and so willing to include me in some family vacations.

Sahara cannot talk. She can only walk short distances as she has an awkward walk. She cannot eat meals; instead, she eats tiny bits of things constantly. Neither can she void easily. Both swallowing and voiding involve peristalsis which is a form of muscularity that Sahara lacks. She has three expressions that I can see—happy, a furrowed brow and neutral. Neutral is, by far, her dominant expression and she is a pincher. For some reason, she pinches and likes to grab your clothes with a fierce determined grip. 

Sahara is a handful for her mother and grandmother because of their long hair and what they wear—especially if they wear any jewellery or other adornments. They attract Sahara's grip. Even Todd gets his hair grabbed, but he is strong and can break her grip. But her bald, grandfather and I enjoy an easy rapport. We spent hours in the pool together because there is nothing to grab.

Love is an amazing thing. The Beatles, at their most eloquent and insightful, sang often of love. And with someone like Sahara love is special or different. Perhaps it is because loving Sahara involves learning a new language. And Hudson, at nine, is a north magnetic pole to my south. He loves songs, singing, drawing, reading and acting and so we have a common language. 

I loved Chris and Frani first, then came the second generation Jessica and Jake. Not surprisingly at all, this fag fell heavily for Jessica. If you love the mother, you can't help but love the daughter. The Humphrey ladies are both tens. And Jessica met Todd, Chris II, and the third generation arrived.

Jake is a part of my heart too. He married Allie and they have three kids; Coral and twins Dylan and Cameron. I wish I saw them more and must do that soon. They are part of a remarkable family. Lucky me to know them. I am do grateful to my friends for the riches they bring to my life.

Losing Chris and Mike this month has me hyper aware of love and friends. Merry Christmas.

Thursday in Sayulita

Dear Chris Adkins passed away at 5:30 am on Dec. 17th, two weeks two the day after Mike died. Mike I had known since the late 1960s and Chris and I met in the mid 1970s. All that keeps coming to mind are clichés. At times, I have wanted to leave this paradise of ease in Mexico and come home and go to bed. But of course I have learned from these experiences of loss.

Remember those famous stages of grief outlined by Elizabeth Kubler-Ross (denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance)? I lived them when I was diagnosed with AIDS, but I find myself dealing with them again in response to the loss of Mike and Chris.

Chris and Mike are my private experience here. The fabulous Humphreys and Jarods are in a perpetual state of bliss like everyone else here in Sayulita. Every day is stunning so it is easy to slip out of sadness and join the party in the pool. Being here with Hudson and Sahara is the best therapy for sadness going.

Tomorrow we return home via Calgary. Back to fish and my wonderful kitty cat.

Tuesday

Yesterday we went to San Poncho (formerly San Francisco). It has changed a lot since we were here eight years ago. But we had a lovely day at a beach that is far less busy than Sayulita and with HUGE waves. It was a lovely day.

Then I came home to find out friend Chris is now comatose and his end is near. It is hard to be here but then perhaps I am very lucky to be with people I love so much.

 Hudson underwater.

  San Poncho north and south.

There is a bird show outside my window
every morning.

Monday

Today we are going to El Poncho, formerly San Francisco. It is the next village north and it is very different from Sayulita. There are no beach restaurants, no vendors, nothing. And all because of many rich home owners who surround the bay and do not want riff-raff on their beach.

(Above) Our house is the white one above the yellow one. This photo is taken from the street below ours. We are on a steep hill. When I am on my deck, I look down past our pool to the pool of this yellow complex, far below. (Below) You can see the many levels of out house in this close-up taken from the same street. On the top, you can see the palm leaf thatched roof on our roof-top deck.

Most of the Clan

Last night we went to a nearby beach to watch the sunset and eat salsa. Todd has taken to making salsa every day and he makes great salsa. Todd likes to cook and is doing virtually all of it. Last night, though, I made pasta and he cooked some marinated chicken on the bar-b-q to add to the sauce I made.

Saturday was a lazy day spent mostly around home after the morning walk to the desolated beach up north of here.

Frani, Chris and Sahara.

Sahara with candy.

Jess

Todd

More About Saturday

The stunning yellow-winged Starling or Minah-like birds
come every morning.

Todd and I walked a trail to a deserted beach.

Our place; front view.

Beautiful 40-45 cm seed pods on our street.

Saturday in Sayulita

It is wonderful to be here but odd to have come immediately after hearing that Mike, a friend since the dawn of adolescence, had died and while dear friend, Chris, is in very serious decline. Given these realities, it is hard to write about sandy beaches, good food and fun times; my body is here but a lot of my heart is at home.

This house had Let's Explore Diabetes With Owls by David Sedaris in its library. I have read things by him in the New Yorker, including one of the stories in this collection, and often been amused but at times he had me laughing out loud. What a gift, to be able to write like that.

Hudson, age nine, and Sahara, age twelve, are constant companions; it took just a couple of days. I find this pattern repeats; at first there is distanced acceptance and then, suddenly, there is a rush of warmth and affection for "Uncle Chris." I love three generations of this family.

I turned 66 ten days ago and now it doesn't hurt to say I failed completely at loving. I never learned how to do it or feel it due to the failure of my (no-fault) adoption. Loving, in fact, became an intolerable experience.

If you made a word cloud out of the comments on my report cards from elementary school, the only big words would be EXTREMELY SENSITIVE PERSON. An emotion can overtake me completely. Emotions cause me to lose control so it is convenient to live life at a distance. No, it is essential to live life at a distance so as not to hurt myself or anyone else. The closest I can get is what I feel with this Humphrey family and other close friends. Three generations of them have opened their hearts and homes to me.

But whereas I cm crap at loving, I can be a good friend (I think and hope). I met Chris, the Humphrey patriarch, in my father's office. Handsome as sunrise, he was out of his element doing fine finicky work (well) for my Dad, so I lured him away to build the theatre I designed for Presentation House in North Vancouver where he lived. Through him I met Frani, his wife and Jessica, his daughter. I took immediately to Frani and not at all to Jess. Then came Jake, and adorable and very loving little boy.

When Jessica became a young woman, I melted. And when she started travelling and writing to me, I fell deeply for her. And when, after years of working and travelling, she came home with Todd, he went straight into the core of my heart. As with my friend Dwight, it was like at fist sight.

Sahara was Todd and Jess' first born. She is severely disabled and she has changed us all for the better. Then came Hudson who is, right now, my favourite human being on the planet. He and I are planning a "show" for the family and he is more excited about that than the beach.

Stunning eh?! And huge!

This Hibiscus was on the side of the road!

Jessica.

Not Frani.

On the night of the 12th there we took in an evening parade and celebration for St. Guadalope who popularized Christianity in Mexico. The music and beer flowed and so did wonderful Mariachi music.

Mr. Guadalope.