It was the summer of 2016. I was ten years old and floating in Xcaret’s lazy river in Cancun, my lifejacket cradling my head. The light blue, translucent water revealed the colorful coral jutting up beneath us. Bright sun reflected off the water, casting shadows onto the river floor.  

Leading the way, my short-haired sunburnt Dad bounced four feet ahead, kicking his feet in the water. “Hurry up we need to get to the other river before it closes!” Dad exclaimed while my mom and sister floated behind me in their blue life jackets. White smudges of sunscreen covered my sister’s face, and white roots grew out of Mom’s brown hair. 

It was my dad's idea that we spend our third day in Cancun at this place. I was excited when he told me what we were doing, but when we got there, I asked, “Is this just a weird park full of rivers?”

In this river, the safety line concerned me. Why did we need one? It connected to the cave walls and traveled in and out of the water, clearly a rope meant to be held onto. I reached for the lines outside the water but made sure not to touch the mossy ones beneath the surface. 

“Dad! When are we going back to the hotel?” I yelled, remembering the free mint-chocolate-chip ice cream.

“The faster we get to the next river, the faster we get back to the hotel!” Dad yelled up ahead.

“We should just enjoy the moment. This might be the only time you come here in your life,” Mom said in a calm voice while doggie paddling. 

“It’s too bright here. I can barely see!” my sister complained, squinting and paddling next to Mom.

Rock walls on either side reached seven feet high. They opened up at the top where sunlight and the bright blue sky seeped in. 

At times, I held onto the rope tightly and put one hand in front of another to help me float forward. After I rounded a bend in the river, the walls closed at the top, creating a long cave, leaving me in darkness with the only light source being the illuminating water. The river felt so natural but man-made at the same time. How could such a deep long hole form naturally?

“Dad! Are the rocks going to fall off the cave wall and kill us?” I mumbled.

The echoes of splashes and drips of water surrounded me. “Mom! Dad!” I couldn’t see anything other than my legs in the water. Did I swim too far ahead? Did I not see a “do not enter sign”? 

I heard a splash. “Mom!” I yelled softly. My arms cut through the water and my feet kicked. “Mom, I thought I was lost!” the words rushed out of my mouth. I could make out three people floating together.

”No hablo ingles,” the voice said. 

I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know anything about the world back then. Back home, the neighborhood kids were always waiting for me outside to play basketball, and the math tests were so easy I’d race to see if I’d finish first among my friends. The grass where I played two-touch football was always sharp and smelled fresh. The sky over my California suburb was always light blue with a few puffy clouds. And the meat on Mom’s hamburgers was always juicy. The minute something bad got in my way, the world flipped. I forgot I was in Cancun on vacation. I forgot the jungle trees around me held families of parrots and that I didn’t have school for another month. I forgot my hotel had mint-chocolate chip ice cream. 

And so when my world flipped, I remembered. It came back to me like a dream that I’d erased. I remembered everything. I don’t know how I’d forgotten. Ever since I was in first grade, my mom had cancer. When she told me, I didn’t really know what cancer was, only that it makes you die. Finding out was like being stabbed but keeping the knife in my chest for life. Why did it have to be my mom getting cancer? What if she died from cancer? Would I be sad and clueless about life forever? Would I ever want to love anyone knowing they could leave so soon? Suddenly, all I could remember from my childhood were the moments when I was so panicked that my stomach dropped. But somehow I’d forgotten this. 

The water kept on rushing in at me, and a calm lazy river turned into a wave pool. It flooded my mouth and tasted like salt.

“Andrew, did you see the glowing crystals back there?” said a voice from behind me. It was Mom. I swam to her with all my muscles clenched and started speaking my brains out. Mom laughed and we continued down the river. 

“Those crystals weren’t even that cool,” my sister said.

As I floated back into the sunlight, the world welcomed me with brightness, the sounds of birds, and sight again. The water was warm and friendly. But, I couldn’t wait to leave. I wanted to get out of that river.

“When’s the bus picking us up?” I asked Dad.

“I think we should do one more,” Dad said with a grin creeping across his face.

“Well, we’re all together now. I’m fine with anything,” Mom said while laughing. 

Nothing to worry about. We were all together and the sun was smiling on us. I didn’t have school, not for another month, and our hotel had mint-chocolate chip ice cream.