Looking out my Backdoor: Sometimes a silly notion

After two weeks at a beach resort in Mazatlan, I wanna go home!

Not that I don’t love it here. I do. I do. What is not to love? Fantastic balcony view. Comfortable room. Staff who treat me as though I am special. A city I know well. I sleep to the rhythmic sea-song of surf pounding the seawall.

But … oh, that trickster little word … but. I must make a decision. Nothing momentous. This is a small thing. Nothing to do with the fate of nations.

An unfortunate aspect of my psyche is that when a choice is important, I see my way clearly (in my own mind) and snap, decision made, for better or (often enough) for worse! Marriage? Cross-country move? Buy or sell house? New job? I know my mind.

Give me something small to niggle on and I can make it last, complete with sleep deprivation, for weeks. In the past hour I have 1) Decided to return to Etzatlan with my friends. 2) To stay in Mazatlan another week, hoping for my residency paperwork to be completed. 3) To return in three weeks with Missouri Jim. 4) To take the bus to Mazatlan the minute I hear my card is ready, overnight and bus back.

Whew. Wears me out thinking about it.

Stay now? Return later? I look at each option financially, logistically, physically and as logically as I am capable.

Truth is, there is no wrong or right decision. Each decision has consequences, some well-hidden, over which we have no control or foreknowledge. No good. No bad.

No judgement. Take this scenario. I came to Mazatlan for beach time with friends. That’s good, right?

Three days along and I fall, land on my f’ord bumper, crack my head and batter my body? Oh, that’s bad, right?

If I’d never fallen, I would never have thought to buy the Cadillac of a marine-blue four-wheel walker, which enables me to walk while battered but also is correcting my lurching hobble to a more balanced gait. So, hey, good thing I came to Mazatlan, fell and got a new walker, right.

Ha! Neither good nor bad. No judgement. Simply consequences. Layers of consequences. Some more comfortable than others.

While I mulled choices of chocolate or vanilla, Hurricane Lorena made her presence known, earlier than expected. Coconut palms bent northward into the wind. A beach umbrella flew past my head. This is not a Mary Poppins moment.

Skip the ice cream. I’m off to my room.

When the moment came, the winds and rains from the storm over, I decided to make the drive home with my friends. I made the decision based solely on my heart. I wanted to touch the walls of my own home. I wanted an avocado from my own garden, a papaya from my own tree, a sleep in my own bed.

——

Sondra Ashton grew up in Harlem but spent most of her adult life out of state. She returned to see the Hi-Line with a perspective of delight. After several years back in Harlem, Ashton is seeking new experiences in Etzatlan, Mexico. Once a Montanan, always. Read Ashton’s essays and other work at http://montanatumbleweed.blogspot.com/. Email [email protected].