The Energizer Bunny Goes to Cuba…
It was very sudden. My husband decided we should take a trip. When he first mentioned it I came back at him with a list of reasons we shouldn’t go, beginning with “We have two children in university” and ending with, “We have two children in university.” In addition, I’m a planner, one of those people who enjoy the anticipation of a vacation, packing and repacking several times before a trip. But he was adamant the two of us get away, so a couple of days later we were on a plane to Cuba. I told my boss if my husband came back without me, to make sure there was an investigation.
Two hours, and several cocktails into the flight, I was starting to get a feel for the trip. My husband squeezed my hand and said, “This is going to be great.”
“Yeah, who knows.” I replied. “Maybe we’ll even renew our vows on the beach.”
“What would you say?” he asked.
“Oh the usual.” I replied, probably too quickly. “For better for worse, in sickness and in health… and from here on in I do whatever the hell I please.”
That’s what’s great about being married twenty some years, you can say things like that to one another and they almost always know when you’re joking.
Somewhere between the cocktails on the plane and the beer on the bus to the resort, I decided this trip, was in fact not a good idea, it was a great idea.
Anyone who’s been on vacation knows about the period of adjustment at a resort. You wander around the first couple of days finding out where everything is, the best places to eat and who to tip. By the time you finally start to feel comfortable, it’s almost time to leave. I didn’t want to waste a second getting comfortable. So despite our late night arrival, we toured the entire place. We staked out the restaurants, checked out the bars, we even looked at the gym (which we fully intended on using each day.) Good intentions.
The next morning, feeling comfortable in our new surroundings we dove right in enjoying a wonderful breakfast and securing our lounge chairs on the beach. True to my word, I began making toasts to everyone I left behind. I had a Margarita for Doug, a Mamosa for Cheryl, a Daiquiri for Nelly and a Pina Colada for Rhonda. I threw caution to the wind and my bikini top along with it. All was right with the world.
.
We began to make friends immediately, meeting interesting and fun people from Argentina, Spain, Norway, Iceland and Montreal. You’ve got to love Cubans, while everyone may not speak the same language; they’ve learned that Mojitos transcend any language barrier. Everyone was there to have a good time and a good time it was.
They say it’s a small world and when we ran into a couple of my husband’s students we realized just how small. The anonymity was good while it lasted… back on went the bikini top.
My husband was thrilled I got into the swing of things so quickly, but after closing a beach party our fourth night in, I was raring to go and asked him “What now?”
He looked at me exhausted and replied, “Being married to you is like being married to the energizer bunny. You like to be the first one up every morning and the last to go to bed and you don’t want to miss a thing in between. It’s like you’re twenty years younger and I just can’t keep up.” Needless to say, I ate breakfast alone the following morning, went to the beach and let him sleep.
As I lay there with the sun beating down and the warm sand beneath my feet, it hit me. I realized how incredibly lucky I was to be there. The scenery was absolutely breath taking, the weather was perfect, it truly was a little slice of heaven.
And then it happened; the dreaded ‘G’ word reared its ugly head.
The youngest of three girls in a Catholic family, I’m no stranger to guilt and I began thinking about people who needed the trip far more than I. My thoughts went back to a time I worked in an exclusive boutique. Women with their manicured nails and diamonds would come in to purchase a new wardrobe for their third trip of the year. Almost always they would say something like, “I really need this trip.” I wanted to slap them and say, you don’t need it any more than anyone else; you’ve just become accustomed to having everything you want.
I looked up to see my husband, looking a little more rested, walking towards me on the beach. He motioned to an elderly couple walking hand in hand on the beach.
“Just think.” he said. “We could be coming here when we’re eighty.”
“Yeah.” I said seriously. “Maybe we’ll run into each other.”
He laughed, like he knew I was joking.
We sat back and took it all in. The sky was bright blue and the water deep turquoise, there was a balmy breeze and the sound of Cuban music filtered through the air.
I hadn’t felt like I ‘needed’ a trip, nor did I feel I necessarily deserved one, however, I was very grateful that my husband, for whatever reason, decided we did. Who knows, maybe we will be walking on the beach in Cuba when we’re eighty, any luck at all.
ScreamBucket 
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