My day in Cozumel didn’t turn out like I had expected. It was the second day of the Gilbert family cruise. At Dad’s invitation, 25 of his kids, grandchildren and great grandchildren had gathered in South Florida, from various locations in the United States. We boarded a cruise ship in Fort Lauderdale, then sailed to Key West, where we spent a day getting on and off a bus, touring the sights.

That night, we dined onboard the ship and took in a comedy show, as we crossed the Gulf of America on our way to Cozumel, a Mexican island in the Caribbean Sea, east of the Yucatán Peninsula.

After a hearty breakfast the next morning, our group broke off into smaller family units and parted ways. Some were headed for snorkeling adventures, others for scuba diving, some would swim with dolphins, others were going to see the Mayan ruins. I was the only one who chose to hang out with our parents. The truth was, none of my brothers or sisters had invited me to join them on an excursion. However, since unlike them I was unattached, I would have felt out of place if I had tagged along. In any event, my preference was to be with Mom and Dad. We lived on opposite coasts, and our visits together were too brief and too few.

By the time we disembarked from the ship and walked to the end of the long pier, Mom, who was in her early eighties, was complaining of a back ache. She led the way into the first shop we encountered, bought a couple of souvenirs, then said she was in too much pain to venture any further. After patting my cheek, she took hold of Dad’s arm, and they slowly made their way back to the ship.

I stood staring after them for a while, in a state of mild disbelief. What the hell?  I hadn’t made a Plan B. This was in the very early days of iPhones, and I didn’t own one. With no GPS or map and no knowledge of Spanish beyond “si, señor,” I decided to explore the town.

The main tourist strip didn’t interest me. Maybe I was naive or totally lacking in good judgment, but I walked along a busy boulevard, then veered onto a quiet street. Somehow I found an artist’s studio. I went in and struck up a conversation with the proprietor, who spoke English fluently. His work was charming and reasonably priced, so I bought something for my sister. A little further down the road, I came upon a store with handcrafted jewelry. The shopkeeper seemed pleased when I purchased a pair of earrings and a silver bracelet from him. More than 15 years later, the bracelet is still my favorite.

Late that afternoon, we all converged on the ship, with everyone excitedly telling stories of how they spent the day. I declined to return to shore with them for dinner and drinks at a nearby restaurant. Instead I dined onboard with Mom, Dad, and two of my young nephews. Everyone returned to the ship and agreed to meet later at the nightclub. I opted out. The comedian on the first night was not nearly as funny as my father. The two biggest laugh lines of his act had been delivered by Dad. It came about when the entertainer began interacting with the audience.

“A show of hands,” he began. “Who has been married for at least 25 years?”

Several hands went up, including Dad’s.

“Okay,” he said. “Anyone married more than 30?”

A few hands went down.

“40?”

There were only a couple of raised hands left.

“45?”

Now Dad was the only one with his hand in the air.

“How long have you been married?” asked our host.

“Sixty years,” Dad declared.

“Sixty years!” the man exclaimed. “That’s a long time!”

“Well,” said Dad, “I’ve had more than one wife.” He gestured towards Mom. “I’ve been married to this one for 45 years.”

When the laughter died down, the comedian looked at my father and asked, “What’s the secret to a happy marriage?”

Dad was ready for this. “Every day,” he explained, “I go home for lunch.”

Another night in a crowded room, yucking it up to some half-baked comedy show didn’t appeal to me. My life as an artist and writer involved many hours spent in quiet seclusion. I found myself in that moment craving nature and solitude. As the voyage once again got underway, I went up to the deck and settled into a comfortable chair, to enjoy the sea breeze and the beauty of the sunset over the Gulf of America.