Yesterday, I shared a glimpse of Matt’s visit and our stay at Mangomar Beach House in Teotepeque. What made this visit especially meaningful was that the very place we stayed was once home to Elizabeth and her grandparents—years ago, when she was a young girl. As we walked the shoreline and listened to the rhythm of the waves, memories began to surface. What follows is Elizabeth’s story, shaped by the feelings and recollections that resurfaced during our time there.
On August 25, my son Mathew came to visit. It was a joyful day for Hugh and me—one of those moments that fills the heart with quiet gratitude. In the days that followed, we planned a trip to the beach, and I never imagined that my husband would reserve a ranch at Sihuapilapa Beach, the very place where I had lived for several years. Without knowing, I found myself standing exactly where my grandparents’ house once stood—a place woven into the fabric of my childhood, where laughter echoed. Mornings were filled with sunlight, running, and leaping with joy.
At the age of eight, my parents chose a new path, and we left that beautiful place behind. Now, at sixty-three, I return to find everything changed. Others now own that little piece of land where my early memories still linger.
I was blessed to revisit La Loma de Penas, where I used to search for starfish, colorful little fish, and seashells. I bathed once again in the saltwater pools left behind when the tide receded—just as I did so many years ago.
This journey was enjoyable. I hadn’t expected to return to the place of my childhood, and yet I did. And in doing so, I remembered how life once felt in that sunlit stretch of coast. It was a very happy trip.
