My daughter turned 40 years old this year. As a single parent I raised her the best that I could. I worked a lot to provide for her. Too much. And still we didn’t have much. But we had each other and we had love. And we still have love.

For her 40th birthday I was finally able to give her “the world.” Or so I like to pretend. In truth I paid for her passport, a fun carry-on suitcase, and a trip we’ll be taking soon to Isla Mujeres, Island of the Women, off the eastern coast of Mexico.

Each year my daughter and her husband take their kids on a family vacation. They’ve been to most of the states by now. This is different. It’s time for my daughter and I to be just that...mother and daughter. To be alone with each other. To rest, reconnect, reflect, and rejuvenate.

I’m guessing to some of you this seems like peanuts, but I feel so damn proud to be able to do this for her. For us. The last vacation I took her on was when she was 18 years old. We went to Jamaica, and no passport was needed. It’s been way too long.

Today upon waking I thought to myself, will there already be a wall? Will it have a door? Can we decide which side of the wall we want to be on? How do I say “I’m sorry” in Spanish? Yes, this is (somewhat) tongue-in-cheek, but I do feel things have suddenly changed significantly.

Please do not tell me to buck up or, for god’s sake, not to worry, and that a wall can’t be built that fast. Let me roll around in this mud pit of despair awhile. When I’m ready I’ll stand up again. Right now, I want to lie down and cry.