After a year that pulled the rug, the floor, and half the ceiling out from under us, the bullshit of Covid lockdowns and four family losses deep, we hit the eject button and fled to Cabo for a short reset. There, with tequila in hand and grief temporarily on mute, we embraced sunsets, seafood, and some truly questionable dancing efforts during a cruise where the coordinated clearly had the upper hand.
But the real healing happened in the quiet: just us, in our swim-out pool, letting the sun and silence do their thing. It wasn’t about forgetting, it was about the two of us finally catching our breath. With guac.
Video Clips
Moto-Misel 