Archives for March 2007

Here’s the thing.

I really expected to come down to the beach and get some clarity about a big decision that I have to make.

I expected to sit on the balcony, read my Bible, look out at the water, and suddenly, clearly, KNOW THE ANSWER.

And frankly, I thought on the drive down here that if the whole clarity thing could happen within, say, the first twelve hours of the trip, then that would be just delightful and in turn leave me more time for figuring out clever ways to use my beach towel to conceal any unsightly flab.

Needless to say, things didn’t work out quite like I planned. In fact, it’s looking like I’ll be leaving the beach tomorrow without having made any sort of decision at all. Without having discovered the answer. Without knowing what in the world I’m going to do.

But memories? Oh, I have those in spades.

And if you asked me for my favorite memory, I’d have to give you a list.

It was standing on the edge of the Gulf with the boy and letting icy cold water lap against our knees. It was sitting in the middle of the beach and filling up a big red bucket a teaspoon of sand at the time (or so it seemed). It was pulling Alex through the pool like a tugboat and assuring him that I would never, ever let go. It was helping him remember how to blow bubbles in the water. It was catching him as he jumped off the side of the pool four or seventy nine times in a row. And celebrating with him over and over again.

It was sitting on the edge of the pool with D., watching Alex play with a little plastic helicopter that he brought from home. He would fill it up with water, then empty it out, then fill it up, then empty it out – this process went on for at least half an hour. And about once a minute, he’d look up at us, smile so big that his eyes became slits, and then go back to the critical business of filling up the helicopter all over again.

Without a doubt, it was one of the sweetest times of my whole life.

So while I’ll leave this place tomorrow with more questions than answers, I have been so deeply reminded about what matters most that tears sting my eyes even as I type this.

Because to sit smack dab in the middle of the absolute magnificence of God’s creation with my husband and my child for the last four days – to talk and laugh and sing and swim and play and snuggle – well, it kind of makes the questions fall away.

And yes, I know that reality will start to creep in again tomorrow. I know that the closer I get to home, the more real life will start to stomp its feet and demand that I pay attention.

But you know what? Even though I may not have the answer I was hoping to have by the end of this trip, I have so much more.

And for now, that’s all the clarity I need.

We are headed out to the pool (I know, I know – cry me a river), but you can imagine THE HORROR OF IT ALL when we got here yesterday, I TURNED ON THE EMAIL, and then I promptly lost my internet connection.

For a really, excruciatingly long time.

Or, you know, SIXTEEN HOURS.

Finally, about fifteen mintues ago, I found a person on duty who could help me, and she didn’t even seem to mind that my left eye was twitching and that my voice was quivering during our conversation. She must have recently completed an advanced hospitality management training course in How To Deal With The Crazies (or: When BooMama Can’t Get To Her Blawg).

Anyhoo, we’re going outside now because the weather is beautiful and the child is SO! EXCITED! ABOUT! THE! WATER! Plus, now that the twitching has subsided, I should be able to sit poolside without drawing undue attention to myself.

Also: BIG PROPS (yes, I just said “props.” I did!) to my brother-in-law for putting mirrors all the way around the master bathroom here, because really, there’s nothing more beautiful than the sight of some BACK FAT to make the inaugural swimsuit outing of the season as memorable as possible.

Later, interpeeps. Wish you were here.