~She Packed her bags, said goodbye To a life she couldn't recognize
Years of pain, tears and lies she needed to leave it all behind

March 13

The turbulence is terrible. When I would normally be a nervous wreck thinking the plane will break apart, I am numb. The captain made an announcement that in-flight service is suspended for the remainder of the flight. Looks like no Goose & cran to dull myself even more. I pick my 70's iTunes playlist on my phone, shut my eyes and enjoy the distraction of Crosby, Still & Nash "Southern Cross."

I dozed off enough that when our plane was rocked with a big bump, I woke disoriented. I was dreaming about Cole's birthday I am going to miss next week. I wasn't invited to his 4th birthday and it's unfair. Wiping a few tears that welled up in my eyes, I look out the window. How could they deny me seeing my children? My babies? On every scheduled visitation, there would be some excuse why they were not able to make it.

I haven't seen or heard from my children in months. "I'm sorry, Cole is running a fever today and won't be able to see you." "I'm sorry, Luke has an important playdate that can't be changed, He is looking forward to it." Or the worst excuse, "Isa, they don't want to see you."

My Caribbean destination is in sight. The beautiful aqua waters of Saint John and Saint Thomas look welcoming. I couldn't stay in Maine and keep away from little Cole's birthday. In fact, I had to leave the country and put distance between us so I wouldn't end up at Cole's party. I would have been the uninvited and unwanted guest and most likely I would be arrested for wishing my youngest son Happy Birthday. Wining the trip from the library raffle was actually perfect timing and will keep me from making a scene at Cole's party.

I want Cole to have a wonderful day, even if it is without his Mom. I hope he understands when he asks where I am. I hope the Cushing Clan can say nice things about me and hug them if the boys are sad and missing me. But, I know the Cushing's. I know they will go out of their way to have me removed from the boys lives and over time, from their memories.

I don't really notice the huge bad bumps as we come in for our landing to STT, Saint Thomas's airport. Despite the rocky approach the landing was smooth and unremarkable. I gather my things from the overhead compartment and wait my turn to exit the plane. I quickly made it through customs, as all Americans do and I searched for a sign to find a ride to the ferry to take me to Saint John.

Outside and there is a line of happy taxi drivers with taxis that would never pass an inspection in the United States. I walk over to the first in line, and the driver meets me, reaching out to take my luggage.

"I'm Sebastian, I can drive you wherever you want to go on the island 'Mamm," he says as he puts my duffel bags – containing everything I own – into the back of his van.
"I need to get to the Saint John ferry." I try to smile and the warm breezy air feels good on my broken body.

"I will take you 'Mamm. It is a short ride to Red Hook Ferry."

Red Hook. That must be where the ferry leaves here to get to Saint John. If it's not, well, my bags are already in the vehicle, so I guess I'm going along anyway.

I trust that he is telling me the truth and I anticipated that the ride was a little bit longer that Sebastian was telling me, but he may not think the ride is that long. He seems like a nice person. Sebastian is very friendly, not what I am used to these days.

"How are you today? It is a beautiful day here on Saint Thomas! Where are you visiting here from?"

"I'm from Maine." knowing that I really have no home anymore. I have no home and no family left to be with.

"That is very North. You will enjoy the warm sunshine her 'Mamm. We welcome many in from the cold!" Sebastian smiles and I'm surprised he knows where Maine is.

I watch out the window as we go by tropical palms and flowers. The scent is nutmeg and it is relaxing. The sun hits the island at a different angle than at home and the change is distracting and nice.

We make our way through the winding, hilly tropical roads to the ferry landing. "Thank you Sebastian. You are a very kind person." I pay him the fare and a tip, mostly for being the first person in a long time who was genuinely kind to me.

"Enjoy your stay 'Mamm and you call Sebastian when you need a ride." He hands me his hand written business card that only says "Sebastian" and a phone number.

I smile, "Of course. Thank you." Sebastian gets into his van and drives off beeping his horn with a happy beat.

I walk over to the small building to look at the ferry schedule and to buy a ticket for the next boat to St John. "The ferry is due in about 15 minutes. There is time to take that one if you would like." the woman selling tickets says with a smile.

"I can make it."

I board the ferry and drop my bags next to my feet at the bow. Leaning against the safety rail I look out across the most beautiful blue sea to see my destination in the distance. This is enough to cheer anyone up no matter how sad and broken they are.

The other ferry riders are loud, raising their voices to be heard over the boat's engines. A child screams. The woman next to me at the railing jostles me as the ferry cuts through a particularly rough wave, and I step away, only to bump into another traveler. Does no one know the meaning of personal space?

Thankfully, it seems like in no time we dock. I look at the map the travel agent gave me and make my way alone to The Cinnamon Bay Villas. My arrangements were emailed to me, I'm in Villa 8 and the key is in the Conch shell, how cute. I open the door and there I smile. This is better than I dreamed for $89 a night. The kids would love it, and my smile turns into tears welling up in my eyes.

I walk in and put my bags on the chair. On the table is a bowl of local fruit and a nice note from the management company. "Please enjoy yourself and if you need anything at all, please call. Thank you, Sam."

I look around the small villa with a wooden cathedral ceiling to make it look larger. This is perfect. I dig out my suit and flip flops, slather on the sunscreen and grab a towel. I follow the sandy path a short distance to the beach and a smile come back to my face when the path opens up to a sandy beach. There are lounge chairs on the sand for tenants use and I completely take advantage of them. I set my towel down and kick off my flops and head to the water.

Warmth splashes over my toes. A contrast from the icy cold waves that jab into you from Maine ocean water. My body feels good and warm and happy that I put distance between me and the craziness and lies over the past few months. I miss my babies.

I wade onto the sandy bottom until I push myself off and just float. The water is crystal clear and when I look down I can see the bottom perfectly. My weightless body feels trim in my new red bikini that I bought for the trip.

I have lost a several pounds since this whole ordeal started. Before now, I never owned a bikini and now whatever self-conscious ideas I may have from wearing a revealing bikini are gone. Maybe because I have lost weight from not being able to eat going through the divorce and custody battle, but because I have no interest in what people think when they look at me, especially men. The last thing I care about in this world now is trying to attract a man.

Floating seems effortless. The water is saltier then in Maine and I feel much more buoyant in this warm salty, clear water. I'm enjoying the serenity until something behind me hits on the head knocking my hairclip pulling my hair clip off. Immediately thinking 'Shark!' I let out a scream and flailing toward shore as fast as I can. I don't remember that flailing will make me resemble an injured fish only to attract more a hungry sharks,

"Hey! I'm sorry. I didn't see you." It's a man's voice. I stop fleeing and when I turn around, a wave hits me and knocks me down. I try to get up, but I get knocked down again. How graceful. My hair that I was trying to keep dry is soaked and I use the water to smooth it back and keep it off my face.

"I didn't mean to startle you." This blonde man, with defined tan abs is fighting the waves as he heads toward me. He is wearing swim goggles. Maybe he is an Olympic swimmer ? Is he training? He sure has the body of one.

He grabs onto my arm and helps me up. "Thank you." I'm coughing up a little water that I swallowed when I was knocked down. Thank goodness no one is on the beach and saw me make a fool of myself other than this hot guy in goggles.

The man pushes his goggles up on his forehead revealing the bluest eyes I have ever seen with a few crow's feet. He is probably a retired Olympic swimmer. "I'm really sorry, I need to watch where I'm going."

"It's Okay. I wasn't paying attention either." There is water in my nose still causing my voice to sound nasally. "I'm just glad you aren't a shark."

"No, Not a shark today." He laughs and puts his goggles back over his eyes. "Make sure you wear plenty of sunscreen, you look a little pink."

I nodded and watch him as he heads back to his swim down the beach.

After being interrupted by a hot older swimmer, I go back to my floating. This is a good thing because I don't want to work hard at anything right now and I can't allow that blonde blue-eyed swimmer to distract me from doing nothing.

The sun moved so it is no longer overhead anymore. I have been floating for what seems to be a long time and watching the tiki bar on the beach next door knowing that that will be my dinner destination when I got out of the water. The live music started and I can hear a Jimmy Buffet song drifting my way.

I don't want to get too much sun my first day here, so I get out of the water and dry off. Wrapping a towel around my waist like a skirt, I gather my things and head over to the thatched roof to get something to eat.​​​​​​​​​

The man playing guitar and singing "Margaritaville" smiles when I walk in and sit at in the corner at the end of the bar.

The bartender comes over with a smile. "What can I get you?" She looks about my age but stress free and loving life. She is happy.

"Any local specialties? Nothing too sweet."

"How about a Sunburn? It's local rum and I make all the juice fresh from local fruit. I don't like super sweet drinks either, but I love this drink, I use all fresh squeezed juice."

"Sounds good, I'll try it."

As she is making my drink I scan the bar, there are probably about 15 people here, including me. Seven couples and me.

"Here you go." She sets my drink down in front of me. "My name is Sarah. Are you here alone?" Exactly,

"Yup. I'm alone." I smile. "I'm Isa." I move the fruit around my tall and take a sip of my drink. "This tastes like sunshine!" It really is good and makes me feel warmer and also allows me to change the subject as to why I'm alone on a beautiful tropical island.

"Are you a guest here at the villas?" Sarah smiles
.
"Yes. I take another sip. "It's beautiful here."

"How long are you down for?"

"A month, maybe more." I take another sip and I take another sip of sunshine. "I have to figure some things out and what better place to do that than on a warm tropical beach." I eke out a smile and fight the feeling of emptiness.

"Well if you get lonely and want a friend, I'm here." Sarah is still smiling and Does she sees a lot of lonely people like me? Alone and troubled?

"Thanks I may take you up on that." Do I detect a New England accent?" I smile knowing I'm right.

"Boston. Born and raised." she laughed, "I'm so glad I'm out of there. Too much Drama and people trying to take everything from you." Sarah talks as she washes dirty glasses. " I came down about six years ago and never went back."

"I'm from Maine. Not far from Boston, just over an hour away."

We continue to talk almost like we have known each other for years. I'm not sure if we actually have found a kindred spirit in each other or if she is just very good at her job. But I like the feeling of talking to someone who is nice, even if it is just part of her job. The bartender "get to know you conversation". But it is nice. Sarah makes me another drink and I order some tropical salad that has oranges and coconut grilled shrimp on it.

This is just what I need to gain perspective. My tropical island escape. I watch the sun go down over the water and listen to the beach music and sip my rum punch and talk and laugh with a nice person. I am feel like I have made the right decision in coming here.

"Thanks Sarah. I really enjoyed talking with you." More than you know.

"See you tomorrow?" She says extending her hand to shake mine.

"I'll be here!" I turn around and head up the sand path to my villa.

I never thought I would say that again in my life. But, It really was a great evening.

I open the door to my villa, take a quick shower to rinse off the salt and the sand. I see my tan lines start to show.

I'm warm and relaxed from the sun and the rum. I just feel physically good.

I pull my oversized T-shirt over my head and crawl between the white cotton sheets of my bed.

Picking up my phone, I look at the picture of my boys set as my wallpaper, no texts or call notifications blocking their faces.

I love you sweet boys. Mommy loves you always. I set my phone back down on the nightstand and fall asleep quickly after a long day.