nobody said it was easy...no one ever said it would be this hard...
NORTH CAROLINA TOMORROWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I'm so excited.
So many of my fondest memories have come from my trips to North Carolina. We've gone every summer since I was born (and my family many summers before that) and I wouldn't give it for the world. Some families enjoy traveling different places all the time, and every once in a while my parents would approach my sister and I to see if we wanted to adventure someplace new and exciting, like New York City or California or even Europe. Ecstatically, we would agree and start packing our bags on the spot. But then as quickly as they were packed, they were again unpacked when we learned that it was an either/or deal. We either went someplace new or we went to the beach. No matter how enticing the other trip was, it was always the beach, no contest. Sure, most of our beach trips were spent getting sunburnt, fat, and stung by jellyfish. But we did all of that with our family and that was all that mattered.
From back in the days at Luke's Hideaway with the captain's beds and crappy knives and refrigerator, accompanied by disastrous dinners at The Lucky Fisherman, to now at Beach Buzz, We Did It, and "Amber Waves of Grain", family and the beach have always been synonymous in my mind. From Allie and Michael and I being the little ones and scared of Bessanoid, the toilet monster, to Jordan, Jack, and Julia being the little ones who always kept us young, we've seen many transitions at the beach. From birth to death, starting school to graduation, marriage to divorce, we've done it all.
When Grandmother was still alive, she used to throw birthday parties for all the kids. Allie and Mark's birthdays fell within a few days of each other, so it was really intended for them, but everyone got presents and cake because nobody could be left out. It would be a fabulous afternoon birthday party, with balloons and hats and the works. But then Grandmother died. It was the first death we had experienced within the beach-going set of family, and nobody was really sure what it meant. It was so sudden and so traumatic that nobody knew if we would even have a beach trip that year. Things were looking grim until my sister and I, and apparently most of my cousins, also, started clamoring about beach plans in early June, around when we began to get excited each year. Plans were made and a hesistant return to the beach occurred. I don't remember whether or not we had a birthday party that year, but the beach trip became not a time to mourn, but a time to celebrate Grandmother's life and another fortunate time of family togetherness.
Since then I have continued to cherish my time at the beach every year. It is the only time during the year, as a general rule, that I see any of my extended family. Everyone catches up on everyone else's lives and spends countless hours sunbathing, swimming, eating, and playing. It is, without fail, the happiest week of my year and I would still not give up the trip for anything. I feel like a kid again every year when we're driving over the bridge to the island, and I literally start bouncing in my seat with excitement. The thrill of pulling into the driveway of the marshfront house and running across the street to the beachfront house to say hello to everyone is incomparable to anything I've ever experienced. From singing La Marseilles around the dinner table every year on Bastille Day, to playing Pictionary at 3 AM, to crying every year when we leave, the beach is the most special place in my life and I can't imagine living without a beach trip every year.
I'm so excited.
So many of my fondest memories have come from my trips to North Carolina. We've gone every summer since I was born (and my family many summers before that) and I wouldn't give it for the world. Some families enjoy traveling different places all the time, and every once in a while my parents would approach my sister and I to see if we wanted to adventure someplace new and exciting, like New York City or California or even Europe. Ecstatically, we would agree and start packing our bags on the spot. But then as quickly as they were packed, they were again unpacked when we learned that it was an either/or deal. We either went someplace new or we went to the beach. No matter how enticing the other trip was, it was always the beach, no contest. Sure, most of our beach trips were spent getting sunburnt, fat, and stung by jellyfish. But we did all of that with our family and that was all that mattered.
From back in the days at Luke's Hideaway with the captain's beds and crappy knives and refrigerator, accompanied by disastrous dinners at The Lucky Fisherman, to now at Beach Buzz, We Did It, and "Amber Waves of Grain", family and the beach have always been synonymous in my mind. From Allie and Michael and I being the little ones and scared of Bessanoid, the toilet monster, to Jordan, Jack, and Julia being the little ones who always kept us young, we've seen many transitions at the beach. From birth to death, starting school to graduation, marriage to divorce, we've done it all.
When Grandmother was still alive, she used to throw birthday parties for all the kids. Allie and Mark's birthdays fell within a few days of each other, so it was really intended for them, but everyone got presents and cake because nobody could be left out. It would be a fabulous afternoon birthday party, with balloons and hats and the works. But then Grandmother died. It was the first death we had experienced within the beach-going set of family, and nobody was really sure what it meant. It was so sudden and so traumatic that nobody knew if we would even have a beach trip that year. Things were looking grim until my sister and I, and apparently most of my cousins, also, started clamoring about beach plans in early June, around when we began to get excited each year. Plans were made and a hesistant return to the beach occurred. I don't remember whether or not we had a birthday party that year, but the beach trip became not a time to mourn, but a time to celebrate Grandmother's life and another fortunate time of family togetherness.
Since then I have continued to cherish my time at the beach every year. It is the only time during the year, as a general rule, that I see any of my extended family. Everyone catches up on everyone else's lives and spends countless hours sunbathing, swimming, eating, and playing. It is, without fail, the happiest week of my year and I would still not give up the trip for anything. I feel like a kid again every year when we're driving over the bridge to the island, and I literally start bouncing in my seat with excitement. The thrill of pulling into the driveway of the marshfront house and running across the street to the beachfront house to say hello to everyone is incomparable to anything I've ever experienced. From singing La Marseilles around the dinner table every year on Bastille Day, to playing Pictionary at 3 AM, to crying every year when we leave, the beach is the most special place in my life and I can't imagine living without a beach trip every year.