A long time ago, in a land far away, an exhausted couple got a taste of how the other half lived. And liked it! The destination vacation was Cancun, Mexico. While this was not their first trip to Cancun, it certainly was the most memorable.
This couple had been there a year ago along with friends and fell in love with the hot sun, in February! Who wouldn’t? Especially if you were from Ohio. They tested all the water toys in the most beautiful, other-worldly, crystal clear waters the color of which was hard to describe. It was a blended artists palette of 100 different shades of blue, green, and turquoise dipped in heaven.
He wobbled on a paddle board. She put the pedal to the medal on a jet-ski. They walked through past lives at the Mayan ruins and admired the observatory, temple, and ball court and pondered whether ancient civilizations may have actually been more advanced than current day. They savored often unrecognizable cuisine at off the beaten path restaurants while carefully sipping bottled water. It was an amazing week and a grand adventure.
Why wouldn’t they want to return the following year?
The hotel they’d booked that previous year suited their teetotaling lifestyle. Their addiction was to discovery, adventure, and living out loud, rather than alcohol. It was an older hotel, minimalist and quiet; at the farthest end of the strip of land away from the ostentatious luxury of the all-inclusive resorts peddling booze, food, and partying available 24/7. That first year they didn’t spend much time at the hotel anyway and they lusted after the sun to infuse their work weary brain cells. Besides, it was great fun to come back to snowy Ohio flaunting a tropical tan. So, the same hotel was confidently booked once again.
However, when they checked into their beloved home away from home on this second trip, the front desk informed them there was no room at the inn! Indignantly, whipping out their confirmation and threatening everything short of a hostile take-over of the hotel, they informed the front desk, they better be finding accommodations for them! Within fifteen minutes the bell-boy appeared in the lobby, loaded up their luggage, and directed them to follow him. They wound their way through a private club connected to the main hotel, towards an elevator. Trailing behind the young man, they knew this was a part of the hotel they had never seen. The couple weren’t sure whether eviction was imminent, if so, at least they could say they were tossed out of fancy front doors. For a moment she felt like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz and whispered, “I don’t think we are in Kansas anymore.” The elevator kept climbing, story after story until it stopped near the top. When the doors opened written on a gold plaque on the wall were the words, Penthouse Suite. The bell-boy put a card in the door to open it and wheeled their luggage into a massive living space. He must have noticed their shocked expression because he did a little mini bow and grandly swept his arm signaling them to enter the palatial setting. In broken English, he proclaimed, “Senor- Senorita, this your room.” The couple looked at each other in disbelief. That feeling never really left them the entire week they were there. Every time a knock came on the door, whether it be room service, or fresh towels, their hearts skipped beats and they steeled themselves for an inevitable eviction notice. It never came.
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| View from the shower |
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| Morning ritual |
In the suite, they picked the largest of the two bedrooms with a small balcony and window that could be left open at night to let the salty sea air clear their heads and evoke magical dreams. Off of the big bedroom was the bathroom extraordinaire. There were actually three in our royal suite. This one though, had a massive tile and glass shower - three of the shower walls were the floor to ceiling windows overlooking that blue-green sea. She found a smidgen of titillation in voyeuristic showers, although they were up so high, only a helicopter would be able to peek inside. She marked her territory in this bathroom, spreading her toiletries out on the ten foot counter. Her eyes sparkled at the discovery of a bidet. He was relegated to bathroom number two, very nice as well with a jacuzzi tub, but, modest in comparison; sans bidet or shower with a view. But, he did lay claim to the balcony in the sky overlooking a small private beach where he enjoyed his morning coffee and newspaper, and in the evenings, he soaked in the hot tub that was nestled into the far corner of the balcony.
Every night before dinner the muckity-muck residents (us) residing in this part of the hotel were treated to Happy Hour; free drinks, smoked salmon, oysters and shrimp and other fancy hors-de-overes. They never missed the opportunity.
The private beach below was reserved for only the fancy guests (us again). Cute men in white shorts waited on sunbathers every need- towels, drinks, snacks. Being a private beach also meant, you were free to sunbathe with or without a bathing suit top. A nubile young woman stepped into the outdoor open air beach showers, shedding her top to rinse off before heading into the hotel at the same time he was spraying off his feet at the shower next to her. The previous trip, they spent little time at the hotel. This year, you could barely pull him off the beach.
It was an exquisite gift from a generous Universe and a God who could see into the future. This once in a lifetime luxury week, was just that for him - once in a lifetime. Seven months later he was diagnosed with Stage 3 Colon Cancer.
The moral of this story: Choose to recognize and be grateful for the miracles and God's hand in your life. A fancy hotel. A wonderful man. A headful of memories.
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