A Spanish Haven

Life is Sweet

This is the story of a broken-hearted woman who had been widowed twice in five years and did not know how to unbreak it.
I did not know my heart could shatter so many times or into so many pieces. I felt its fragility and despite feeling strong again and again, now I was tired. I couldn’t stop crying. I had no strength left. I had a quiet, cautious hope that maybe someday, I could find my smile again, but for now? Escapism.
Spain was where I might heal, close to the sea. I wanted to see the sun dip into the Mediterranean at sunset and feel its embrace. I wanted to see color again. And I was sure if I could make it happen at all, it would be in Spain, the country of my ancestors, a place that had a stranglehold on my heart.
There, I could push my toes into the sands beneath a table at a chiringuito, the restaurants built on the beaches of the Mediterranean. The scents of freshly grilled fish, paella and sipping red wine cocktails, tinto de verano… Could I heal my broken heart amid food, wine and warm embraces that waited from friends and family? I couldn’t know until I tried, when Andalucia promised me its Spanish Haven, I listened.