During our last trip to Barbados in 2013, Jim and I arrived at the difficult decision that, after over 30 visits to the island, we had seen it all. Of the 60 by 21 mile area, every square inch had been explored; no nook or cranny remained to be discovered. Jim jokes that he personally knows every palm tree; he probably does! No matter how hard we tried, we were no longer able to get lost on the tortuously confusing back country roads. And we are not just “sit-on-the-beach” people. No matter how emotionally attached we were to Barbados, it was time to move on.
Barbados is the island of my maternal heritage. Jim and I and our boys, Christopher and Matthew, are the 12th and 13th generations of my family to walk the land and swim the sea of this very special “island in the sun”. My Mother’s ashes, a her request, rest at St. John’s Parrish overlooking the Bathsheba Coast, her favourite view, and in the Caribbean Sea where she played in the surf until age 85! Even given all of our family history, I felt that we had no need to return. Well.....until we had grandchildren.....Generation 14.
Jim and I are in our mid-seventies. So many friends have passed away or have health issues that make international travel impossible or prohibitively expensive because of travel insurance that we have developed the mantra, “Do it now while we can”. Realizing that how much time Jim and I have to enjoy international travel is a “crap shoot”, I found myself suddenly overwhelmed with the urgent need to introduce our grandchildren, Morgan and Zachary, to this Caribbean part of their heritage and to revisit Barbados once again in the company of Christopher and Matthew. On March 9th, Jim and I fly out to fulfill this desire.
In anticipating our trip, it suddenly struck me that it may be selfish, but not only am I excited to introduce Morgan and Zachary to Barbados, I am also flat out hysterically excited about personally returning. It has nothing to do with escaping winter and everything to do with magical memories. Memories of dawn casting her golden hues across the Caribbean Sea, the sound of waves lapping the shore, the feel of white talcum-soft sand between my toes, the vibrant turquoise green and blue striations of the sea, sugar cane gently waving in caressing trade winds, the lilting Bajan accent which will forever be music to my ears, the irresistible calypso beat, the delectable Barbadian cuisine, the silver cast on both sand and sea at dusk and the music of the night - the cheeping sound of tree frogs.
How true ring the words from an old Merrymen’s song. “Barbados is deep in my soul.” It is so time to go home!
In looking back over my recent Facebook postings, I am truly embarrassed 😩 by the number of times I have mentioned Barbados. A bit of overkill, right! Please forgive me. My over excitement about returning is apparently begging for an outlet and as a result has spilled over onto my Timeline and you, my friends. I can’t and won’t apologize for my excitement, however I do apologize for exposing you to an endless stream of Barbados photos and promise to curtail my uber enthusiasm in future postings.
Restraint, Daphne, show restraint. I’ve got this......I think. 😂