I’ll have one of my team members write more about his experiences in Nicaragua in the next post but I did just want to mention one thing that happened while we were there.
On our first morning at Jicaro, I took my phone and went out on the balcony to check email and enjoy a cup of coffee as the sun rose over Lake Nicaragua. After seeing nothing of importance in my email folders, I then went to Facebook. And the first post I read was from my cousin and although she didn’t come right out and say it, I could tell from her words that her dad had passed away a few hours before. My uncle. My dad’s brother.
Finding out through Facebook that a family member has died is not a pleasant experience. Especially when your family’s time zone is 2 hours behind you and it’s 4 a.m. where they are. And being on a small island where there is really no privacy does not make it any better.
I went to several places around the island, trying to find a little bit of privacy where no staff members or guests were. After 3 attempts of moving around, I finally ended up at the spa where there was a small sitting area overlooking the lake. And that’s where I sat for the next 90 minutes, in total shock, not really knowing what to do and just waiting for the hours to go by so that it would be a more reasonable time for me to call my parents.
I kept telling myself…find your yoga breath, Chrissy. Find the peaceful serenity in the sadness. The beauty amongst the uncomfortable rocks.
When I lived in Sonoma County, there were a lot of hills and cows. And one time as we were driving around, my dad told me that Uncle Freddie used to joke with us when we were kids, asking the question: How do cows walk so easily on steep hillsides? His answer was that the cows on the hills were special cows and they could easily walk on them because one side of their legs was shorter than the other. And every time after as I drove around Sonoma, I would see the cows and laugh, thinking of Uncle Freddie and the cows funny, short-sided legs.