Where Can I Go? Where Can I Flee? Pt. 1

Part 0 (Running Away) — Part 1 (The Pyramids) — Part 2 (Beaches and Caves)

Cassie wanted to see pyramids and explore ancient ruins. There was no particular reason why. She just did. Some of her dreams had a ton of backstories or funny memories attached. Not this one. For whatever reason, Cassie just thought they were cool.

Maybe the archaeology course she took inspired some of it. I remember her coming home from those classes, some days talking about how cool it would be to go into an ancient city and be a part of an excavation. She thought it would be incredible to literally dig through the centuries. She thought it would be amazing to see the relics, the structures, the monuments left behind by people thousands of years ago.

But even then, that was just biblical archaeology. That college course doesn’t explain her wish to see pyramids or the remains of ancient civilizations that have nothing to do with her faith. Cassie just thought they were neat. To be fair, it does sound pretty awesome. She wanted to climb to the top of the pyramids and to see things leftover from a world forgotten because, well, because she could.

Egypt was just a little too far for her (not to mention a little too politically unstable for her). So she told me a number of times she would settle for the pyramids in Mexico.

My Oh Maya!

All that to say, I knew exactly what I wanted to do in while in the Yucatan! In fact, it was the only thing I really had planned on doing while I was there. Everything else on the trip was just a bonus.

So much so, that I originally planned on traveling to the ruins of Cobá immediately upon arriving to Mexico. From there, I would spend a few afternoon hours exploring the archaeological zone before trying to find something else to do. But as I mentioned before, my trip didn’t go exactly as planned. I didn’t wind up at Cobá until about 5 PM on the third day of my trip. Truthfully, it couldn’t have worked out any better.

Google told me the archaeological zone was closing at 5 o’clock sharp, but I figured I would walk down there anyways. The gate appeared to be closed to cars. But as it turned out, I was able to walk around the gate just fine. I arrived at the entrance to the forest paths and the ticketing booth was still open. They told me I had about 1 hour to go explore, otherwise security would force me out and I’d be stuck with a heavy fine. Sounded good to me!

So I started walking down a sacbe—one of dozens of the Mayan “white roads” which were originally covered in white plaster so they would glow under the moonlight. I was headed for the Ixmoja pyramid of Nohoch Mul (don’t ask me how to pronounce any of this), the tallest pyramid in the Yucatan Peninsula, and the only one that is still climbable by visitors.

On the way I passed an ancient Maya ball court. The rules of the game were not recorded anywhere that has passed the test of time, but apparently someone had to be beheaded whenever the game was played. I also passed several stelae—small stone monuments which were used for recording momentous events or for religious purposes. Unfortunately, any etchings or designs have long since faded from their faces. That’s not to mention any of the several other massive stone structures, the purposes of which were buried with them in the jungle.

Finally, I arrived at the foot of Ixmoja. There were a small handful of other visitors ahead of me, but they left ahead of me too. I climbed the 130 steps up the side of this millennia-old shrine and found myself alone, sitting on an altar as the sun set over the sea of green, blue lagoons shimmering in the distance, and unexplored Mayan ruins peeking through the canopy.

Eventually I had to make my way back down. But as I hiked the sacbe back to the entrance, the stars came out, and so did something else. I walked through the tropical forest with fireflies lighting their lamps, guiding me out of this ancient dream I had wandered into.

Tablets of Human Hearts

While I wandered about the monuments the Maya left behind, I couldn’t help but wonder about the monuments my wife left behind. Photographs, journals, notes, art—I wonder what it will mean to me as they become more and more pieces of the past. It’s something I worry about often.

Where I stood in the middle of an overgrown forest, there was once a booming civilization. 1,000-some years ago, the place I was standing was a city with over 50,000 people. They had kings and priests, games and ceremonies, economies and religions, walled fortresses and armies, artwork and mythologies, highways and aqueducts, giant temples and thousands of houses, books and calendars, advanced mathematics and political treatises, hierarchies and families with traditions for members passed. But now? Now there are only worn and weathered stone blocks.

I worry that if the lives of millions of ancient people can fade away and be forgotten, then my wife’s life will too. Cassie meant so much to me. And she tried so hard to not only serve those around her, but to build a legacy that would continue to serve the people who outlive her. Will that disappear too?

Every bit of me wants to cling to what she left behind. I sometimes feel like I will fall apart if I lose the things from our life together. Just the other day I thought I broke the clip off a cheap plastic clickey-pen I got from the tissue donation organization the day Cassie passed away—I broke down in tears I was so upset! Over a pen! A pen that didn’t cost more than a few cents!

I try to remember that things are just things. I try to remember that life is not about being remembered. Life is not about etching into stone. Life is about etching into the lives of people around us. If I might take a verse of scripture out of context:

You yourselves are our letter, written on our hearts, known and read by everyone. You show that you are a letter from Christ, the result of our ministry, written not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God, not on tablets of stone but on tablets of human hearts.

Apostle Paul, 2 Corinthians 3

I still want to hold onto every material thing Cassie ever left a mark on, even though I know it will only hurt me as those things wear out. But I take solace in the knowledge that Cassie left the biggest mark on our hearts. The world will never be a different place because of the things Cassie held. But the world will always be different because of the people she touched.

Part 0 (Running Away) — Part 1 (The Pyramids) — Part 2 (Beaches and Caves)