Every trip tells a story, but this one was different. This one was a testament. Since childhood and even now at 41, there have been moments I wasn’t sure my mother, Benita Cristal, would still be here. Living with Lupus, an incurable autoimmune disease, has meant decades of unpredictability, pain, and resilience. As she’s aged, her health challenges have deepened, and her mobility has become more limited. And for me, caregiving began unexpectedly and all at once. No one prepares you to parent your parent. It is hard. It is exhausting. And it is sacred.
Before her health declined, traveling was our ritual. Each year, we’d escape somewhere, just the two of us making memories on beaches, in new cities, immersed in different cultures. But since our last trip to Jamaica in 2019, our travels became extended hospital stays and doctor’s appointments. Life became about survival, not celebration.
So when she turned 70, there was no question—we had to celebrate not just the milestone, but the miracle.
“A mother who radiates self-love and acceptance actually vaccinates her daughter against low self-esteem.”
Naomi Wolf
The Journey to 70
Like many single mothers, my mom worked tirelessly and sacrificed often. She pushed me to chase dreams beyond the boundaries of our circumstances, believing in me before I knew how to believe in myself. Every milestone I’ve reached traces back to her strength.
When I was eight, shortly after my parents divorced, she was diagnosed with Lupus. I was too young to understand, but everything changed when I was 13 and she suffered a massive stroke that left her paralyzed. As a freshman in high school, having just skipped the 8th grade and juggling the International Baccalaureate program and varsity sports, I suddenly became her voice, advocate, and caregiver.
There were countless nights in hospital rooms, moments when doctors doubted she’d live to see me graduate from high school. But she did. Because she is a fighter. And because love kept us going
The past five years tested us even more. In 2020, during the pandemic, a botched colonoscopy left her hospitalized for four months. No visitors were allowed. I sat in the parking lot just to be close, FaceTiming and praying. Earlier that year, my engagement ended. My life was crumbling. But my mother needed me, and I showed up. Reaching the 70 milestone, I knew I had to make it special. We’ve been through so much, and I thank God she’s still here with me every day.
Mother-Daughter Moments in Paradise
My mother wanted something simple and stress-free. We booked a direct flight from Atlanta to Cancun, Mexico. Our destination: the SLS Hotel in Playa Mujeres—a calm, accessible, all-inclusive resort perfect for her limited mobility.
Three and a half hours later our Mother-Daughter Trip officially began: Clear skies, white sand, turquoise waters, and unlimited food. We were in paradise. But the real luxury was time—precious, healing, uninterrupted time together.
From the moment our feet hit the sand, it felt like a cleansing. A reset. We’d survived the storm. Our happy place has always been the ocean, and now we are here together, at peace. We bonded over eating way too much food. When it’s all you can eat, I always have at least three plates because I get so greedy. But the real indulgence was the conversation, finally having the space to reflect on how far we’ve come. The journey. The fight. The love that held us together.
Ceremony Under the Stars
One of the most meaningful experiences was a ‘Cacao Ceremony’ offered at the resort; a spiritual ritual in which participants sip ceremonial-grade cacao while meditating, setting intentions, and connecting on a deeper level. I had done it before on my travels, but this was my mom’s first time.
She was hesitant at first, but open. And to my surprise, she loved it. Watching her tap into her spiritual side, hearing her speak intentions and releasing them with sunflowers
into the ocean beneath the moonlight, it was magic. We prayed together under the stars, and in that moment, it felt like the universe was listening.
The Surprise
My aunt Jakki and her husband Wayne flew in from Arizona to surprise my mother in Mexico. Keeping that secret was hard. I almost spilled the tea several times, but we managed to pull it off.
The morning of her birthday, we woke up to ocean views and gratitude. At breakfast, Jakki and Wayne appeared, and my mom’s face was priceless. Eyes wide, mouth open, trying to process what she was seeing. Once the shock wore off, she was overwhelmed with joy.
Dinner in a Cave
For her birthday dinner, we traveled to Alux, a restaurant in a natural cenote in Playa del Carmen. Nature was the architect—raw, ancient, breathtaking. As we laughed and shared stories, I felt overwhelmed with gratitude. She taught me resilience, generosity, and love. That night, I got to reflect on it.
When dessert came and we sang “Happy Birthday,” I looked at her and thought, “This is what it’s all about.” Not the place, not the plans, but the people we love and the time we choose to share.
Cherish These Moments
This Mother’s Day, I’m celebrating not just her age, but her legacy. Her strength. Her softness. Her laughter. If you ever get the chance to take a mother-daughter trip, take it. Don’t wait. Make the memories. Share the belly laughs. Hold each other close.
Our trip to Mexico wasn’t just a getaway. It was a celebration of survival, of second chances, and the sacred power of presence. After all the hospital visits, the setbacks, the sleepless nights—this was joy. This was love in motion.
Life moves fast. But moments like these are where the real meaning lives. We don’t get forever. But we do get moments. And if we’re lucky, we get to share them with the ones who made us who we are.
moment at a time.