For some reason, perhaps, because they’re waking up from the winter doldrums, my children are talking about their babyhoods, birth in general, and about visiting their birth countries. The discussion during this morning’s ride to school was about Guatemala. It seems fitting since Guatemala is known as the country of eternal Spring, the place from where the rainbow stole its colors.
Greyson wants to taste the “big-as-his-head” avocados (they were just about the size of his head when he was an infant).
“Do they taste like ours?” he asks.
I’d have to say no; they’re better – meatier, richer, creamier. It could be because we experienced eating them in Guatemala.
“Good mole’, Mommy?”
I make a mean mole’. But, those I’ve had in Guatemala are among the best.
“I want to climb the temples and look out at the jungle! Can we go soon? ”
The worn uneven steps of the Tikal temples that his ancestors once climbed call to him. While it sounds wonderful, we need to put it off for a few more years, so that he can climb those steps without difficulty or falling; there are no safety measures in Tikal like those we are accustomed to here in the U. S. Medical help is a very long distance away.
I remember my heart in my throat, six years ago, as Holden rode piggy-back with our sure-footed Mayan guide, Carlos, up to the top of one of the temples. I prayed the entire trip up – and down.
“Soon, honey. When your legs are longer and you listen the first time, every time,” I said.
We arrived at the final school drop-off and, as he was getting out, he said “Next year we’ll go! Hey Aubs, we’re going to Guatemala!”