We live in America.
We lived in San Pancho, Mexico for six years, two months and seven days. It was amazing. We faced challenges but never regretted our decision to live there. Our life was sweet and simple and full of laughter and joy and friends and sun and tacos. So many tacos.
Then it wasn’t.
COVID-19 happened. We didn’t get infected but it infected everything. Weddings cancelled. School closed. Friends left. The beach was off-limits. Our hand was forced.
People used to ask me how long we planned to live in Mexico and I responded with “We don’t have an exit strategy,” - and we didn’t. When Phil said he was done and suggested we move back to the US, I didn’t argue. Ever the optimist, I couldn’t justify staying when our way of life there was just … over.
We moved into an Airstream on an island in the Pacific Northwest and had an idyllic summer eating blackberries and roasting marshmallows. My parents invited us to move onto their property and the idea of a multi-generational family compound felt inline with our propensity to live a life less ordinary.
As the pandemic wore on and summer drew to a close, we knew going back wasn’t happening. I started to cry every night. I was a freaking mess. I couldn’t wrap my head around that chapter in our lives closing - it was just so good. Our little house had just gotten perfect (new couch! new paint! a credenza!) The ocean …. c’mon, how could I live without the ocean? I wasn’t ready to let it go.
I had to respect a decision made. I flew back to Mexico and packed up the house for good. I was still a mess but a highly functioning and organized mess capable of packing and donating and tying up loose ends. I stood in the threshold of our little house with a great friend and blubbered about how unfair it was and how I wasn’t ready and the house was perfect and she smiled sweetly and said, “You’ve finished it, Erin. Now you have to start again.”
With that - I was okay. Perspective smacked me in the face. Shut up you big baby. So many people have it far worse - lost so much more. Put your big girl pants on and get over yourself.
We wear a lot more clothes in America. Sydney is riding the bus to public school. Trail running through the forest invigorates Phil. The garden is primed for perfection. Multi-generational living is a lot harder than we’d anticipated but we are managing better every week. We wear masks inside and can’t wait for my parents to get the second dose of the vaccine.
I’m figuring out a way to pivot my business into something that is less of a one-hit wonder phenomena and more of something that people can use as their lives evolve. I like the idea of folks hiring me to document their family as it grows. I can be there for their birthday parties and tree decorations, bedtimes and baseball games. I’m not limited to just the big moments - now I’m able to capture all their moments in between.
I miss Mexico. It was a great chapter. This one will be too.