Nothing came to me. The previous idea was completely gone. The words that were so freely flowing earlier this week are completely gone. I started writing something and it was okay, but I don't know if it was the direction I wanted to go. So I stopped. Maybe I'll try again later. That doesn't really help me for now. I wanted something to write for today. Something to publish, so I can get back in the habit of writing. So now I'm writing about not having anything to write about. And I'm pretty sure that is a crappy idea too.
So I have a quick little story for you that was prompted by a question someone asked me. The question: "What is your favorite restaurant?" This time when I was asked that question my mind started sifting through all of the restaurants I have ever been to. I thought about the beachy restaurants in Florida. I thought about the fancy restaurants I have been to in various cities. I thought about childhood favorites. I thought about the places that have made me feel welcome. And then there was one that stood out. Quite honestly, I don't even remember the name of this restaurant. I didn't remember the name of the hotel. Google fixed that problem.(I think)
|Hotel Mocambo, Veracruz, Mexico|
In 2004 just a few weeks before I was set to get married, I took a group of students to Mexico. It was an amazing group of kids. We were travelling with 2 teachers from Kansas. We went to Mexico City, Oaxaca, and Veracruz. Veracruz is a beach town and a port city. It was a pretty great last stop. I was so blessed to be travelling with another amazing group of kids from Kansas. We had been blessed with a wonderful trip and amazing experiences thus far. Then we saw the hotel in Veracruz. It was amazing! There were 2 or 3 pools, a gym, a spa, a couple places to eat, and a gift shop in the hotel. I'm not certain what constitutes luxury, but this was it to me. The best part of the hotel in my opinion was the terrace where breakfast was served. One night the other two teachers and I had dinner there. I think it was the last night. The students had eaten and were enjoying each others company before they had to go home to separate states the next day.
I remember sitting there looking out at the amazing patio thinking of how lucky I was. I remember the ocean breeze and the soft lighting. I don't remember what I ate. I don't remember what I drank. I do remember sitting with one of the teachers after our food was gone. Her teenage daughter and student was on the trip with us. I wasn't that much older than her daughter, so she was obviously quite a bit older than me. I don't remember anything in particular that she said. I just remember sitting and talking about life. I remember her talking to me as an adult. I remember feeling like an adult, a successful adult.
My life was about to change in huge ways. I got married a few short weeks after that. I moved across the country and back and back again. I would go on to have two kids and teach lots more. But that night I sat there talking to that wonderful woman who knew how much was about to change for me because she had gone through that. She talked to me like an adult and had confidence in me that I was going to be okay. More than okay, I was going to be successful. She imparted some of the wisdom she had gained as a teacher, wife, and mother on to me. She shared life with me. And for that I am forever grateful.