We've been back for a few days now and I must admit I am going through a bit of withdrawal from communal living at the beach. The week was wonderful and, in spite of the fact that I could have stood it to be about 10 degrees warmer, was quite a little slice of Heaven. Family all around to share the fun and the work, time to relax and play and to enjoy each other and the view. Really, what more could you ask for in this world?
Our days were cool, but lovely and they all ended with a sandy sort of goodness. The kids were all almost unbelievably good and were in love with all their big cousins and aunts and uncles and Grandma and Grandpa, so we hardly needed to even take care of them. Even the car rides were tolerable.
On Easter Sunday, we were bushed and didn't make it up in time for the sunrise service down the beach with the rest of my family. But Tate and I watched the sun come up from inside the house and I think that was just as important and meaningful to me.
I have way too many pictures and all of these are jumbly... a little like the thoughts in my head right now of what I want to take away from this, what I need to remember.
Walks on the beach through the sand or letting the cold water slip over our toes.
Chilly wind blowing off the waves and driving us to blankets in the dunes to toast in the sun.
Time with Daddy making things in the sand and archeological digs to China (or at least to sea level) with the big boys.
Searches for shells that littered the beach like jewels each day scattered by God's own hand. A daily treasure hunt for whatever appealed to each of us: color, shape, perfection, broken bits of something intriguing, followed by a lesson from Uncle Shawn at the microscope.
Crosswords with coffee in the morning and later for a break from the outside.
Mini-golf: a discovery by my boys that was dubbed Cal's favorite part of vacation and has since become a daily whine of "You HAVE to take me to mini-golf!!! PLEEEAAAASE!!!!" Tate, ever Mr. Independent, shunned our help with his grip and developed his own handling of his putter that lead to a sweeping technique rather more like curling.
Beautiful, peaceful sights and sounds, dolphins and surfers and fishing boats in the distance.
A sweet pace to our days, played out to the rhythm of the surf and
the sun on our faces and
happily tired days that I did not want to end.
Thank you so much to my generous and incredible family and to my sweet nieces and nephews who hung out with the little ones and gave us all a time that we won't soon forget. I am savoring this for now, but a little part of me is itching for that again. A happy goal and sweet plans for "somedays" that dance in my head when I let them are enough for now, but I miss the sand in my toes.