Chapter 40

Following a night of drinking, dancing, and singing, he had been invited to a BBQ the next day at The Islander, an intimate little beach bar near the airport. It was a cozy little spot right on the water that served cold beer and played reggae music, and it seemed like a wonderful welcome to the island.

Arriving at the bar, he saw the small, intimate gathering he had expected already included over 100 islanders and tray after tray overflowing with food. He laughed as he thought about the card tables and boxes of wine back home. This year he was doing Christmas island style.

He saw his new friend Benny from the night before sneaking a rib

from one of the trays, and then his huge hand smacked by one of his many “aunties.” He was quickly learning there was a chain of command to island life, and the aunties seemed to be at the top of the food chain. 

He made his way to the bar with Benny and a few of his other new friends from the night before. He once again ordered buckets of corona, as it seemed to fit with the island theme. He had purchased many such rounds over the course of his life in Mexico, Costa Rica, and many places in between. It was an effective social shortcut for making friends in a new place in a hurry.

As the evening wore on, John joined a rowdy group of the aunties in a dance, as they seemed to be the most festive of the group. They spent a few minutes teaching him the intricacies of the traditional island dances, and soon he was awkwardly turning and shaking and gyrating along with the music. It was great fun, and part of one of the most unusual and interesting Christmas celebrations he had ever experienced.

Later that evening he made his way over to the railing overlooking the ocean and watched the sun go down. He thought about all of the Christmases he had experienced in his life. First in his hometown, growing up lean, and watching his mother do everything possible to give him the best possible Christmas. Then the Chicago years as a single man where he had spent plenty of years with a nice bottle of bourbon and some Chinese food. And of course the precious couple of years he had with his wife and daughter on their farm.

And now he was here, on an Island paradise watching the sun go down over an endlessly calm sea. As he took it all in, one of the more festive aunties named Maria approached him and put her hand on his shoulder.

“Everything okay my new doctor friend?” She asked. “You look a little sad all of a sudden. It’s Christmas, but I can tell by your eyes you must be thinking of another Christmas. I know. Maria always knows.”

“You got me,” he replied with a laugh. “And this Christmas has been pretty great so far. But yea, I was sitting here wondering where all the time goes. Seems like yesterday I was hopping on my first bike. Now I’m a middle-aged dude on an island a long way from anywhere. How does it all happen? What’s it all about?"

She took him in for a second, and, seeing he was serious grabbed his head and turned it towards the party where everyone was dancing.

“You see that my American doctor friend? Those are dances we’ve been doing on this island since the first people ever arrived here. You know why we dance? To remember where we came from and remember who we are. Do you think we don’t know loss, and pain, and death, and disease? Some of those people know very little else. But tonight? They dance. Here. Now. Today. We have much to be grateful for. And maybe you do too?”

“I do,” John replied. “I absolutely do. And you know what I would like to do now?”

“What?”

“Dance!”