Lake Atitlan, Panajachel, Guatemala

Wednesday, April 3, 2024

Companions: Stories from A to Z

Before South America came a short trip back to Guatemala. The family would return Bruce’s ashes to the place he had been so happy. Panajachel, near Lake Atitlan was the obvious resting place. Mine too when the time came.

RJ had found the perfect spot for releasing his ashes; a cliff above a wooded area that led down to the lake. During the rainy season, it got covered by the water beyond. RJ also let us occupy his hotel while we were there, a kind and generous gesture. 

While in Guatemala, a few of us stayed over to go to Tikal: Forrest, me, Travis and Jessica. Upon arrival, we bought our tickets and toured the ruins, staying that night in a cabin outside the park. 

The next day before the park opened, Forrest and I asked at the gate if we could come in for a bit. No, they said. We aren't open. And you will need to buy tickets for today. You can't use yesterday's tickets.

Forrest and I left and out of view found a wide-open entry into the side of the park, crossing a path used by workers. We came in like we belonged and climbed up one of the smaller pyramids. A few workmen passed by on a trail near the woods where we’d entered. Nobody bothered or questioned us. 

“Mom, I think we can travel together. Getting away from civilization brings out your inner hippie. Were you a hippie before you married Dad?” 

“Oh, definitely. I didn’t do drugs or protest the Vietnam War, but I had a rebellious streak. I always went my own way.” 

“Did Dad calm you down?”

“Quite a bit, because he was so traditional and conservative. Hair, clothes everything. He had such thick, curly hair. I wanted him to grow it out a little back in the 1970s. But of course, he wouldn’t hear of it.”

We took a picture together in front of the pyramid. Mother and son, forty-three years apart in age, a new widow weary of life and a twenty-seven-year-old grad student eager to start his life and career. I suppose we each needed an escape from our current situations. We would escape together to South America, and it would be good for both of us. 

When Forrest told me he thought we could travel together, that meant he was okay with me coming along on his summer travel plans. It was the highest compliment.

17 comments:

  1. Lovely story start to finish! Nice to read about your rebellious streak!

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    1. Hi Jan, thanks for stopping by! I don't think that rebellious streak ever really goes away, and probably increases a bit with age. It has with me anyway.

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  2. Karen, I welled up with tears of joy - what a memory for the two of you. And how gracious and generous of your son to extend the invitation to travel together. You, rebellious, no! I'm smiling at the thought.
    Until D... with smiles, Jenny

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  3. Sneaky just to walk in that open entrance! And now your son thinks you're hip.

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  4. That's a sweet exchange. And 43 years difference? He must be your baby.

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    1. Yep, you guessed it. He had to put up with a grandma/mom.

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  5. You and your son will have this beautiful memory forever, even once you actually do get old. :-) I remember the long hair in the 70s. My kids can't believe it when I show them pictures of their dad back when he was a teen and his hair swiped his shoulders. :-D
    And now I'm always reminding him when it's time for a haircut. Ha!

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  6. I also wanted to let you know I just bought your book, We Buried Our Boats. Won't have time to read it for a while yet, but I'm looking forward to it. :-)

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    1. Thanks, Debi! I can only hope you decide to review it on your blog. Your book reviews are excellent.

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  7. When you act like you know what you're doing, most people don't question you. I'm so enjoying this journey with you!

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    1. Haha that's so true, isn't it? It's the confidence factor. Thanks for visiting and commenting!

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  8. I like that the ashes were spread somewhere the deceased would have liked. It's much better than keeping it in an urn, in my opinion. Sweet story.

    Ronel visiting for C: My Languishing TBR: C
    Unsettling Changelings

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  9. This is Birgit…I’m so glad you found a way in and could do what you wanted to do. I’m so happy you could spend the time with your son.

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  10. I think enough people, even if they weren't rebels in their youth, become a little rebellious in their later years. Your son paid you a high complement and I'm sure enjoyed sneaking in with you. I enjoyed reading about it.

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  11. I remember you as that rebellious hippie-type teenager, my sister! Your favorite song was: I Am a Rock by Simon and Garfunkel. I tried to follow along but was way too afraid to blaze new trails like you did!

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Comments are welcome!