Living in Mexico. EVERYTHING you need to know (and then some)
it’s all part of the journey
April 19, 2021
It has been such a long time since I’ve written. Mainly because so much has happened. While writing is generally my release, this time, it was not. To be honest, nothing was. But I am here to share with you now and explain a bit how I came to my new decision.
The last time I was here, I had two dogs and had not yet turned 50. I guess those are the biggest changes since my last post. Whenever that was. In March, my now least-favorite month, I lost my beautiful Great Dane six days after my 50th birthday.
I knew it was coming…both the birthday and Georgina’s final days…but it was still a shock to the system. I’ve never been one to feel old or lessened because of another birthday, but this one kicked me in the pants. I didn’t like it. I still don’t.
It made me sad. I felt unaccomplished. Kind of old. I think I’ve gotten over it. Or maybe not.
As for the Great Dane, she’d been getting old quickly for the past year. Mostly in the area of mobility. A walking harness was of great help, but that too, came to not be enough. Then the seizures started. Such an undignified way to exist. She was exhausted from them. So was I.
I got my birthday wish (without blowing out any candle), which was for her to be there. She was. I blew out a candle anyway. Then six days later she wasn’t. It was the right thing to do. She was suffering. Had she been more human, she would have told me as much. Of that I am certain.
Still, it was excruciating to snuff out 12 years of companionship. At least now she’s not suffering. That was left behind for me to endure. And I did. Suffer that was. I guess I also endured it.
To help, I packed my Jeep and remaining dog and headed to my sanctuary. Beach camping. He was depressed as well. He too, lost his companion. We both needed to run away if only for a week. Which is what we did.
My heart broke open during our first beach walk without her. Now, it was just the two of us. He felt it too. The oddity of not having those long legs to bite at as he chased her down the sand. The oddity of my not having her looking back at me to see where we were going to start swimming.
So I cried. That big ugly long wail of a cry. It happened several times while we were there. It needed to be done.
I also saw things differently as well. While my move to Mexico changed me a lot in the way of being a lot less materialistic, this camping trip changed that even more. And it gave me a Plan B. One of the reasons I didn’t feel like blowing out any candles at the beginning of year 50. I didn’t have a Plan B. Now I do.
While crying over the profound loss of Georgina, I realized that many things have changed and many others no longer hold the importance they once did. I did a lot of inner searching and learned that I would really be okay living a camping lifestyle. I mean, I love tent camping and my current lifestyle has me living kilometers outside of town in a heavily treed hood in the burbs.
Plop me in a tent, remove a handful of non-necessities (and two boxes of shoes) and it would be hard to tell the difference. So why not take that next step? I have started to.
I made contact and queries with people who rent space on their beachfront land. I can live there. In my tent. A new, different tent. One I have yet to purchase. It would be a glamping lifestyle rather than a tiny nylon dome built for two, but it would see me move to a place that truly makes me happy.
I’ve done the research. Got creative. Measured my main concerns and realized I can do it.
I’m now 50. I have decided to remain in my rental home for at least another year mostly due to the wicked hurricane season we had last year and the forecasts that predict another similar season for us this year. But I am secretly hoping for another 15-year stint of hurricane free seasons. Everyone here is.
In the meantime, I will continue to plan to move in a different direction during my life of living in Mexico. It’s all part of the journey.