Freddy Medina, "I want to rename the Christmas parade in memory of Lawrie"

2011 Elmo makes his Isla debut

This week, our good friends Freddy Medina and his beautiful wife Yadira Velazquez (Eva) stopped by our little house on Isla Mujeres.

Freddy said, "I want to rename the Christmas parade in honor of my good friend Lawrie."

I was speechless.

Freddy continued, "Without his help, this parade would never have happened, and I want everyone to remember him."

I suggested that, since Lawrie's grandsons always called him "Elmo," why didn't he call it Elmo's Christmas Caravan?

This year, Freddy has set the date to be Friday, December 21st, starting at 5:30 p.m.

The Beginning - September 2011

“Hey, cool. We’re invited to a Halloween party on October 31st, 2011, at Curtis and Ashley’s house, Villa la Bella,” Lawrie said as he read aloud an email invite.

A month later, the local postman arrived on his delivery moto at our front door with an enormous cotton sack tagged with Lawrie’s name and our address.

“What the heck is that?” I asked, oblivious to Lawrie's recent online shopping.

That was an Elmo costume shipped from the manufacturer Claudio Mascots Oficial Lima Peru; a large, furry, crimson-red costume complete with a big head and googly eyes. It was amazing. Beautifully made, and an exact replica of Elmo.

Years ago, when Lawrie’s eldest grandson was learning to talk, he thought Lawrie’s name was Elmo, and the nickname stuck. The boys were coming for a visit in December 2011. Lawrie decided he could get double-duty from the costume for the Halloween party and greeting our grandsons at the Ultramar boat.

The Elmo costume was a huge hit. In the next two years, it was used several times by Lawrie when he greeted arriving nephews, nieces, great-nephews, great-nieces, sister and brother-in-law, and friends at the Ultramar ferry docks. Elmo-Lawrie was invited to Barlito’s 1st Anniversary celebration when they were still on Hidalgo Avenue.

Everyone wanted their photos taken with Elmo: kids, parents, and grandparents. Even a few of the slightly dubious characters that hang around on the street corner late in the evenings wanted a photo with Elmo.

Then, in 2013, our friend Freddy Medina asked if he could borrow the costume for a birthday fiesta for a special young boy on the island.

Freddy was so overwhelmed by the happiness of the young lad that he suggested the idea of a Christmas parade featuring Elmo and our newest character costumes, Mickey and Minnie Mouse, purchased for yet another Halloween party at Villa la Bella.

2013 Elmo-Freddy makes his parade debut

The first parade in 2013 was hilarious. There were only about eight or nine vehicles, and a dozen or so motos.

Our jefe, Freddy, was late, and the golf carts had lined up neatly, facing north. We were supposed to be facing south to head into the colonias first.

What did we know? We were all new at this parade stuff. We eventually got turned around heading south towards the densely populated neighbourhoods.

The parade bounced through the colonias on a higgledy-piggledy route that the driver of the lead vehicle had mapped out in his head.

2013 Parade route. Alexis' photo

We had absolutely no idea what we were getting into.

The excitement on the faces of the youngsters.

The grandparents and parents ran to find the kids to come see Elmo, Mickey, Minnie, SpongeBob, clowns, and the Grinch.

The noise. The confusion. The laughter.

Mickey and his driver, Chuck Watt

Lawrie and I had bought five pounds of candy, but partway through the route, we asked our drivers, Chuck and Marcy Watt, for an emergency stop at Donasusa to purchase another five pounds.

2013 was also the year that we learned not to get out of the golf carts in our costumes.

Lawrie had waded into the crowd to say hi to the kids when a group of inebriated young men thought it would be uproariously funny to lob Mickey Mouse into the air and catch him – a few times. Picture this: a full-sized man, in a full-body mouse costume, including a large head, being tossed up and down in a crowd. Only in Mexico!

Lawrie, Lynda, and Sparky

Two hours later, our tired, ragged group disbanded in Centro on Rueda Medina. Elmo’s vehicle happened to park near the assembly point for the Municipal Presidente of Isla’s Christmas cavalcade.

The Presidente suggested to Freddy that Elmo should join that parade. Freddy, who had just spent two hours dancing in the back of a pickup truck wearing a full-body fur-suit, was soaked through to his underwear with perspiration.

However, one does not say no to the Presidente. And away Freddy went, dancing and shouting Feliz Navidad for another two hours.

A new Elmo was born!

2014 parade, little Minnie Mouse

In 2014, more people joined the group, bringing the total to about twenty vehicles. Freddy arranged for the funny bus for participants who didn’t want to drive but wanted to be part of the event.

The funny bus is a two-level dilapidated vehicle, decorated with coloured lights and blasting loud music. It haunted the island streets for a few years, the operator charging a small fee to take people on an after-dark tour of the island.

2014 Funny people in the funny bus

That year, we followed a route dictated by the height of the double-decker. The low-hanging electrical wires are always a challenge in Mexico.

The typical solution is to have a person stand on the top of a truck or vehicle with a wooden broom to lift the wires out of the way.

Yep, lift live wires with a broom! Happens all the time. But when it’s a parade, there just isn’t the time to lift every low-hanging line and sneak past, while the passengers duck below the seatbacks.

It was easier to find a different route. Once again, the experience was amazing - noise, people, dogs, kids, and loud music. That year, we tossed fifteen pounds of candy to the crowds.

2015, Mrs. Claus and Santa

By 2015, and you would think we would have the routine figured out. More or less, mas o menos. The funny bus was once again available, which meant our route was similar to the previous year, heading south, staying on the main roads, and finishing in Centro near the new Muelle 7 Restaurante on Rueda Medina.

We had all of the usual character costumes in the parade, along with the addition of Batman Jimmy. Santa John Pasnau and Mrs. Claus Valerie Pasnau quietly inserted themselves in the middle of the lineup, giving the kids an additional thrill as Santa waved and said, “Ho, ho, ho.”

2015 our escorts

2015 was the first year that we had a police escort in the form of four motorcycle cops who tried their very best to keep us all together. It was like trying to herd cats, which, if you have ever been owned by a cat, you will know is an impossible task. Some of the vehicles broke down. A few drivers turned the wrong way. And still others had non-parade vehicles cut in between, causing more confusion. The laughing youngsters and their smiling parents made it all worthwhile.

2016 Participants lining up by our casa

And, then there was the 2016 parade, Saturday, December 17th, our 4th Annual Christmas Caravan.

We had trucks, cars, dozens of golf carts, two tuk-tuks, and a handful of motorcycles, but not the funny bus. It had finally died, expired.

We had Elmo, Santa, Mrs. Claus, Mickey, Minnie, and a Ninja Turtle.

There were at least four or five dogs, including our Sparky, dressed for the occasion, riding in their decorated golf carts. There were dozens of Santa hats, store-bought decorations, and handmade decorations. Music. Lights. Candy.

2016 Mrs. Claus and Santa

Without the bus, our route was more flexible. We wound south from our casa along the Salinas Chica neighbourhood, into Salinas Grande, Las Glorias, through narrow side streets along the main road, turning again into the colonias across from Oscar’s Pizza, popped out onto the main road by Chedraui grocery store, and back into Centro.

 But we weren’t finished yet. Our leader took us on a cross-hatch route along Madero, Medina, Abasolo, Guerrero, Juarez, Matamoros, and Medina again. At the end, we gathered in the square in Centro.

Wow! Just wow. Our faces hurt from smiling. Our throats were dry from laughing. The best parade yet. There were around fifty vehicles in total. Thank you so much to everyone who participated in the celebration of fun and family. You are what makes this event so special.

Elmo-Freddy and Elmo-Lawrie

In 2017, Lawrie and I returned to Canada to celebrate Christmas with his large extended family. He was having serious health issues, and we sensed that this might be his last chance to celebrate a Lock family Christmas.

Rob and Julie Goth happily stepped in to become the new Mickey and Minnie for 2017 and for any future parades.

Elmo's Christmas Caravan is usually the last Saturday before Christmas Eve, but our intrepid leader Freddy Medina sets the date. If you want to join in next year just contact Freddy or me. Don’t forget to add battery-powered Christmas lights and a music system to your shopping list. Buying them here is very hit-and-miss.

Elmo is getting his annual post-parade bath

As for the Elmo costume of the 2011 Halloween party, it now resides at Freddy’s house. It’s a good home for Elmo. Thank you, Freddy, for being the good-hearted, crazy person who thought up this event. And thank you for honoring my sweetie by renaming the parade to Elmo's Christmas Caravan.

This year, Freddy has set the date to be Friday, December 21st, 2018, starting at 5:30 p.m.

The original Elmo-Lawrie Lock will be with us in spirit.

Elmo-Lawrie and Lynda - 2011

The power of grief

July 1st, 2017, before we knew he had ALS

Anyone who has spent any time around Lawrie and me has heard the stories about our years as volunteer ambulance attendants and firefighters in a small Canadian community similar to Isla Mujeres.

Over time, we developed a very black sense of humour about death. It was our protection, our coping mechanism. 

When you frequently take friends on their last ride, you need a way to deal with the grief.

“It happens to everyone,” I would say with a shrug.

Lawrie’s favourite was, “No one gets out of life alive.”

It’s what you do when you are a firefighter, an ambulance attendant, a nurse, a doctor, a caregiver, a hospice worker, a police officer, a mortician, an undertaker, a medical examiner, or anyone working with the dead or dying. You cope or you turn to drugs, alcohol, and physical abuse of family members.

Belatedly, after Lawrie’s recent death, I learned how deep the pain can be when you lose your lover, your spouse, your adventure partner, and your best friend.

I was very familiar with grief. My dad died when I was seventeen, but our family didn’t talk about it. It was always the undiscussed elephant in the room. My mom died when I was thirty-six. She had been completely miserable since my dad’s death, so in a small way, it was a blessing that she didn’t have to suffer any longer.

And now I understand her grief, her anger, her pain.

Every single day, I miss Lawrie’s killer-gorgeous smile, his touch, his voice.

I miss his laughter and good humour. He never saw the negative, only the positive. I miss the smell of him. I kept his bottle of D'Issey just so that I can remember.

I miss him cruising around the Soggy Peso bar on Isla Mujeres, at least once a week, regaling the newcomers with his stories of living in paradise. I admit, I had heard the stories a few hundred times and eventually tuned him out. Now, I desperately wish I had a video of the Social Butterfly doing his meet-and-greet and making newbies feel welcome.

I miss his never-ending need for adventure, and another damn British car. I can’t tell you how many times I cursed the 1971 DBS V8 Aston Martin, nicknamed Ashley, for just stopping with no warning. The engine was so huge that the gas would boil out, and she would stop. Eventually, after she had cooled down, she would consent to continue our journey.

I miss him asking me, “Where are you and Sparky going this morning?” He always wanted to know in case I had a mechanical problem with the golf cart. Sometimes I would respond, “For heaven’s sake, sweetie, it's a five-mile-long island. I can't get lost.” But he had to know, every single day, where I was headed. I really miss someone caring that much about me.

I miss bringing his morning coffee to him in bed for most of those thirty-eight years, and recently being reminded, daily, that he liked more caramel syrup drizzled on his coffee than I did.

I miss him noticing that the container of sugar was getting low, and invariably, he would ask me, “Do we have more sugar?” He wouldn’t drink his coffee without three teaspoons of sugar.

I miss his company at mealtime, and I even miss his quirky dislike of most vegetables, especially broccoli, asparagus, and Brussels sprouts.

I miss that he refused to eat foods that started with ‘y’ – because his dad didn’t like them. Think about that one: yoghurt, and yams. That’s all there was in our Canadian food world at that time that started with ‘y’.

I miss listening to his frequent chatty telephone conversations with his son, his grandsons, his sister, his brother, old friends, and new friends. He also had weekly conversations with a feisty woman, Edie Parker, whom he has always referred to as his ex-almost-mother-in-law. She is the second wife of his ex-father-in-law. She is healthy, alert, lives in her own home, and still drives. She will be ninety-seven on her next birthday. Edie is a little pissed off that Lawrie is gone, and she’s still here.

I miss him teasing his then-teenage son, John, and later his two grandsons about anything that would make teenage boys squirm and blush.

I miss his company for evening cocktails. I loved it when he could still pour me my evening glass of wine. I miss being able to reach across the bed and hug him. I even miss his snoring!

I miss his daily proposal to me, “Will you marry me?” He asked me every single day for thirty-eight years. But most of all, I miss dancing with him. That’s how we fell in love, dancing.

To our many friends who have lost their loved ones, I apologize.

I had no idea how difficult it would be.

Lynda

Mañana doesn't mean tomorrow ..... it's just means not today! Updated Oct 2018

2014 Oct 7th, buoy headed our way

At sunrise, on October 7th 2014, I noticed a small green light blinking on the ocean just south of our house, flashing on and off at regular intervals.  

Well, that needs to be investigated. My camera has a decent lens, so I zoomed in for a better look; it was a huge marker buoy drifting free, and bobbing its way north towards our beach. 

2014 Oct 7th, buoy rolling across coral

Fifteen minutes later, it ran aground, tipped over, and ponderously rolled in the waves until it was stuck about twenty feet from shore. We emailed a friend who knew how to contact the naval base to advise them of the problem.  

A group of marinas (sailors) arrived, a non-commissioned officer and his crew, to check out the buoy.  

Then the sleek navy cutter arrived, cruising back and forth in the deep water on the other side of the reef, unable to hook a line on the buoy due to the increased size of the waves and the shallow water inside the reef. 

2014, waiting for a decision   

The weather turned foul, so we invited the guys to take shelter on our patio, offering them coffee and snacks while they waited for a decision from the higher-ups. 

The navy bosses were in communication with the harbour master, and two employees arrived mid-afternoon to check the situation.  

2014 Oct 7th, removing the valuable beacon

One lucky guy was designated to retrieve the valuable GPS beacon. The ocean is very warm in October, but dressed in protective gear, it was a bit of a struggle for him to wade into the thigh-deep water and remove the heavy beacon, still transmitting its location at 21 14.5 N and 86 44.1 W.  

It is a good thing the beacon was removed, or we could have had ships trying to take a position reading off our house.  We envisioned an unscheduled cruise ship visit, similar to the Costa Concordia that ran aground in Italy in 2012.

2014 October 7th, Marinas and Lynda

By noon, we were serving ham or chicken sandwiches to the onshore crew, complete with a choice of coffee or pop and chocolate chip cookies for dessert. It was a pretty good gig, hanging out with us while the jejes decide what to do with the marker buoy. Around three in the afternoon, the officer in charge flashed us a big, friendly smile and said that the weather had become too rough and the cutter couldn't pull the marker buoy back out to sea. 

2014 Oct 7th, Sparky on left, Tommy on right 

“We’ll come back mañana, or when the weather calms down,” he assured us. 

“Si, claro. Okay, no problem.”
  

Smiles and handshakes all around, and everyone departed: October 7^th 2014.  

Yep, four years ago last week, and we still have a huge piece of rusting scrap iron rolling around in our neighbourhood. 

2015 October 11th, still waiting for removal

Starting in 2014, I took annual photos of the life and times of the navigational buoy.

For the first few weeks, the air stank of rotting sea creatures, until our neighbours helpfully hired a young friend to scrape the dying barnacles and mussels from the exposed bottom.  

So how big is this thing?  It has a six-foot diameter, and without wading into the water with a tape measure to get the exact measurements, we think it is about fifteen to eighteen feet tall.  It’s big and it’s heavy.

October 2016, pointed straight at our casa. 

We had considered decorating it up for various holiday celebrations:  Halloween, Christmas, Valentine’s Day and Independence Day. 

We have had friends offer to paint it with cool designs. One graffiti 'artist' did add his tag, but thankfully, the weather removed the mess within a few weeks.

No one was allowed to remove, move it, or even consider cutting it up.  It is federal property, but the feds don’t want it, the navy doesn’t want it, and the harbour master doesn’t want it.  

2017 waves from Hurricane Irma 

The first week or two that the buoy was here, it moved around a bit, a little to the north, a little to the south, ever closer to shore until it is now half out of the water and stuck between two rocky outcroppings. 

Our biggest concern is not aesthetics, but safety. A big storm could turn it into a missile and shoot it straight at our house, knocking out walls and ripping down support columns. Or, conversely, it could be swept out to sea during a hurricane, becoming a dangerous navigational hazard, unlit, unmarked, and big enough to punch a hole in a large ship.

2017 waves, Hurricane Irma, Florida

We know it is not the fault of the folks who work for the navy or the harbour master. 

We have the greatest respect for them. They are willing and helpful. 

The decision came from higher up the pay-scale ladder. It was just not in the budget.  

2017 October TS Nate now at Punta Piedra

In September 2017, when Hurricane Irma turned away from us, towards Florida, we had several days of big waves. 

We watched with trepidation as the buoy pounded against the three-foot-high ridge of coral and sand protecting our house from the floating hunk of metal. 

At sundown, it was pointed like a missile right at our casa. When we checked again at sunrise, it had bounced over the rocks, moving north and stopping on the beach. 

2017 Oct, Amy, Punta Piedra, decorated

A short time later, Tropical Storm Nate moved the buoy a little further north to Punta Piedra's beach. 

Amy Canto decided to have fun with it, instead of obsessing over the unsightly hunk of metal. She made a 'man' by stuffing a pair of pants and a shirt with sargassum seaweed. His head was a round white fishing float, with a sombrero plopped on top.

Juan sat in an old beach chair inside the buoy with his bottle of tequila and a plastic Halloween pumpkin. He provided lots of chuckles for her guests, until another storm washed him away. I found pieces of Juan all along the beach: pants, a hat, and a head. Amy reassembled him, but the winter storms just wouldn't leave the poor guy alone. Eventually, he disappeared. 

2018 Oct 8th, moved during Hurricane Michael. 

Then, on October 7th 2018, the weather forecast predicted that Michael, a Category 1 Hurricane, would pass between Isla and Cuba. The worrying and wondering started again. Where would the damn buoy land this time? 

Fortunately for us, Hurricane Michael skidded past Isla Mujeres, doing very little damage, but it was a Category 5 by the time it battered the Florida panhandle. All we can do is hope everyone is safe, healthy, and only a little wet. 

The remnants of the navigational buoy are a tattered shell of the heavy structure that arrived four years ago, but it is still capable of floating. We currently have a disturbance forming just south of Mexico, and Tropical Storm Nadine in the mid-Atlantic. Hurricane season doesn't end until November 1st, and then we can breathe a sigh of relief. 

In the meantime, Mañana doesn’t mean tomorrow; it just means not today.

Murder and mayhem

Revenge and romance

Isla Mujeres Mysteries

and

Death in the Vineyards Mysteries

Available in online book stores