Standing on the shore last night with my family at sunset, setting Wade’s feet upon the beach for the first time, I started to cry. I hadn’t expected to feel so sharply, and it caught me off guard. It was definitely a moment in the thin space, everyone’s face sweet with joy, other families nearby having similar moments.
Maybe I’m not an explorer by nature, but I prefer a certain style of vacation. Brian and I have many personality differences but thankfully we crave the same vacation rhythm.
Some choose to explore new places, push the envelope, spend a whole week in a novel experience. I have traveled some outside the continent – Hawaii, Ireland, Philippines, Hong Kong. I do hope to see Normandy, Venice, Australia. And there will be a time for that. There is surely more to see in the world than can be contained in one lifetime.
But all new places aside, Brian and I most like to come home to Seaside. My heart is full every time we return. We could explore a new city, a new beach, but surely there is enough adventure here for our family. How many years would it take till we to relive only old moments, rather than create new ones? I think a long, long time…we’ll wait and see.
There is a simplicity about our Seaside days for several reasons:
–Having a home always beats a hotel in rest and rhythm.
–Going to a familiar locale means we can dive right in rather than spend the first few days getting our bearings and likes down
–The beach is an eternal playground – we need on a few open-ended toys here, if anything.
–Growing up vacationing in Seaside will teach Wade vital things about life, and (we hope) that the joy and rhythm and community of the place will become part of his identity.
It may be familiar, it may be known, but each time we look on with new eyes, and our hearts still skip a beat, pulling in on 30A, the monolithic beach pavilion standing in a welcome salute. Welcome home again.