In July, my family took a beach trip. Anyone who knows me very well, knows the beach is my very favorite place. If too much time goes by, I start to miss it like I would miss a person. I long for it. I'm always happy to be there, even for a short trip.
However, any kind of an overnight (or longer) trip with children is more work than it is relaxation. Any of you with children already know this. Some families have decided it isn't worth it. To me it is. The effort put into the family time and memories made is a deposit into the hearts of your kids, and yours too.
To further complicate a trip with kids in tow, as most of you know, our youngest child has autism. As far as being rigid with a schedule, as many children like her are, we don't have that issue much. For a kid with autism, she is about as easygoing and flexible as they come. She loves staying in condos and hotels, loves swimming, loves the family time. Thank God. However, in many other ways, she is pretty high maintenance. Think taking a large toddler on vacation. The sweet smiles are worth it, though. I've also come to realize that anxiety is a very common issue for parents of special needs children. I had experienced what I would call situational anxiety before, as we all have. However, I had not experienced the kind that just hangs around until Liberty entered our lives. I have begun to recognize it and learned how to better deal with it. Vacation, or any change, only exacerbates it in some ways. In order to be ready to deal with whatever caring for your child may throw at you, you will find yourself trying to be on top of and control every other outcome. That in itself can be exhausting. We all experience it differently. For me, it's making sure my to-do list is DONE. That everything is immediately put back in its place after use. Cleaning. Etc. You get the picture. Nothing left undone. For Jeremy, it looks more throwing himself into a project with the same perfectionism he's always had, but amped up even more. Or on trips, it looks like him plotting every single gas and bathroom stop into Google Maps. I tease him about this, because it is partly due to him being a guy and wanting to use every single tool and gadget on his phone and vehicle. He's the only person I know who will actually shift an automatic transmission into 2nd gear sometimes.
With all that to deal with, a vacation mindset can be a difficult thing to establish for us. We have learned that vacations aren't going to be perfect. (Navarre Beach 2007, Jeremy's wallet getting stolen, we're looking at you.) But there can be perfect moments. The last day of our last trip, Jeremy took Lauren and Samuel deep sea fishing with some friends. I had no idea how Liberty would react to being on a fishing boat for four hours, and decided to hang back and take her to the beach. That day, there was the perfect mix of clouds and sun. The cloud cover made the air and water feel cool, then the sun would come out blazing and I would get a slight chill as my skin began to warm. The sound of the surf and the smell of the salt combined with that to give me the best sensory experience. I felt lost in the moment and could've stayed there forever. Those few hours were worth the trip, not to mention the other great moments we had. I've also noticed on vacation, especially the beach, my mind feels freer, wanders farther, dreams bigger.
Another thing that has happened over the years as we started going back to the beach after a several year hiatus, is I've had some feelings of grief resolved. I've written about this before, but to catch you up, we used to take a big family beach vacation every year. My dad passed away in 1995, then I married in 1996. In the years since then, we also lost my aunt, my cousin, and then my uncle, all of whom would go on these trips with us. Going without them all hurt. Now when I go, I still miss them, but it also makes me feel closer to them. Like a part of them is there. It's been healing. Sometimes on the beach at night, I see the faraway glow of a cigarette or the faint smell of one being freshly lit. For just a second, I can hear my dad and uncle talking and laughing in low tones, see them casting and reeling, slowly. Like a dance between them and the Gulf, the whitecaps glowing in the light of the moon. On the mornings when my family goes on to the beach while I finish up the laundry, I smile and think of my mom and aunt. I thought they must be having a really boring time, but now I know they were having an extra glass of Coke or cup of coffee and enjoying the Gulf view from inside a quiet beach house.
This may not have flowed the best or had the best style of anything I've ever written, but it was from my heart, and I enjoyed it. I hope you do too.
