Thankful Thursday – Beach Therapy

I am a beach girl, all about toes-in-sand over body-in-water (although I have heard stories of little me evading my parents’ grasp and running headlong into the waves, fully dressed and shrieking with delight). With proximity to the shore, I breathe differently: deeper, more fully, relaxed. Robinson Jeffers wrote, “The tides are in our veins,” and I agree: again and again the tides pull me back to the coast. I need regular doses of vitamin sea.

So today I am thankful for Pacific Grove, California, one of my favorite places on the planet. I first visited with Guy on college-escape weekends to his parents’ home in Santa Cruz. Back then I referred to Pacific Grove as Monterey, no firm line on the coastal cliffs marking town from city. For most of my kids’ lives we have vacationed there one week each summer. This week, while Guy and Teen build homes in Mexico, Tween and I got away for a few blissful days.

Our summer “‘Cation House” unavailable, this trip started with a Groupon for two-nights’ stay at The Olympia Lodge at the end of Lighthouse Avenue, a five-minutes’ walk from Point Pinos Lighthouse and the rocky shore. The lodge is a little like Grandma’s house–friendly, cozy, a few updates but mostly old in a comfortable way. We don’t require luxury and the price made it right. We’d stay there again.

Tween and I scrabbled on rocks and examined tide pools. He led the way, pointing out stable rocks to land each step, calling, “Mom, look, look!” We saw so many hermit crabs, anemones, even a chiton. We saw nesting Canada geese. Never have we seen so many seals and sea otters in the wild, bobbing in the waves. The sun hitting surf spray created flashes of rainbows. And everything was blooming!

While Tween “rested” (read: stared at phone) I went for an almost-two-hour walk from the golf course to the Monterey Bay Aquarium and back. I walked and prayed and people-watched. People walked alone or in pairs. Many walked dogs. Some ran or biked or laughed with loved ones as they maneuvered surrey bikes. Some sat, soaking in the view. A couple of middle-aged men enjoyed a glass of white wine; when I smiled, one remarked: “What better way to end the day?” Indeed!

Some appeared to be turned inwards (one or two even in tears), while many, like me, smiled because they couldn’t help themselves. It wasn’t until later that I realized: perhaps I noticed so many smiles in direct response to the slap-happy ridiculous grin on my face!

Tween and I enjoyed all of our regular activities–a few hours at the aquarium followed by a walk down Cannery Row, a scrumptious chocolate-caramel sample at Ghirardelli Chocolates, and drinks at Starbucks. We ‘socialized’ puppies (held, played, laughed, and loved puppies!) at the animal rescue. We looked for potential new reads at BookWorks.

We also bought art supplies and spent an hour drawing the view. We devoured guacamole and chips and burritos vegetales smothered in enchilada sauce from Michael’s Grill & Taqueria. And we went paddle boating on Lake El Estero next to the Dennis the Menace Park. Tween hadn’t been paddle boating since his legs were too short to reach the pedals. The half-hour ride around the lake, which afforded us an up-close view of two herons and a pair of turtles, was a perfectly relaxing way to end a perfectly relaxing couple of days.

Next spring break Tween will be on a school-sponsored trip, and the following year he expects to join his dad on the Mexico trip. This week was our final spring break hurrah for just the two of us. I’m grateful we did it right!

 

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Ritual: Cation House

One of my favorite weeks of the year is coming right up: our annual trip to the Cation House. I originally wrote this post for my friend Cara Meredith‘s blog during her 2015 guest post series on rituals (please go check out her blog – great stuff happening over there!). I can’t wait for another week of beach-y rest, relaxation, and walking down Memory Lane even as we create new memories.Cation House

Writ large on the walls of the Monterey Bay Aquarium, Pablo Neruda’s words strike a chord in my soul: “I spin on the circle of wave upon wave of the sea.”

My life has felt like constant spinning, waves of joy and laughter, wash of chaos and drama, waves of peaceful beauty. My parents’ lives spun on disorder and turmoil until they spun into each other and, quickly, marriage. They attempted to overcome the tidal pull of established patterns; they did their best to remain upright in swirling waters. Still, my Airline Captain father flew in and out of our lives on air currents rather than water.

While I attended college my parents purchased a Time Share blocks from a NorCal beach (we lived a short drive from SoCal beaches). Recently I asked my mom, “Why?”

“To create family memories, to have a place we could come back to year after year.”

My parents, siblings and I never spent a week there as a family. My family, however–my mom and nephew, my husband and sons–has spent a week there every summer since Teen was two years old. We call it the “Cation House.”

We look forward to the Cation House all year, one of our most significant shared family rituals. The three kids have each created school essays and projects about the Cation House. Each generation swimming against currents of the past, I asked my boys which traditions, rituals, have meant the most to them in our family life: Cation House!, their unequivocal shared response.

When we all lived in SoCal, we rented a minivan and made the ten-hour journey a road trip. Now that four of us live in NorCal, the others fly up and extend their stay on either end for a longer vacation.

Each vacation is the same. We go to the same beaches (Lovers’ Point, Asilomar). We walk the same streets (Lighthouse Ave and Ocean View Blvd). We take the same pictures (kids in wet suits, holding sea stars). We do the same things (“journal pages” before dinner, hiking at Point Lobos, Monterey Bay Aquarium, Farmers’ Market, beach, beach and More Beach!).

Each vacation is different. The kids grow (drat that, both blessing and curse). The toys change–Thomas the Tank Engine has been replaced by an inflatable kayak. Some years we paddle boat, others we maneuver a surrey-bike. Scheduling has gotten harder as kids get older, with more demands competing for their time. We have had to drive/fly the older two in late, allowing them to miss days without missing the whole experience (always a cost to us and to them, but the week is a priority and so we flex). Last year, surprisingly?, the boys could not only tolerate but enjoy a lecture on sea turtles by the American Cetacean Society, held at the Stanford Marine Research Center. How can we possibly have gotten here?

Rituals help us remember and reflect. Each year we remember years previous: the first trip when Teen and Nephew laughed “diapo” back and forth for the whole drive, their 2-year-old diaper “dirty joke”; the many times enthusiastic boys stripped naked and charged lapping waters before adults could grab suits and towels; the time boys slipped behind the bakery counter and helped themselves to cookies; the year boys felt sufficiently confident for Guy to take them kayaking.

Each year we reflect on who we have been, where we have been, how we have changed and where we are going. Kids have grown, demonstrating God-given gifts, strengths, aptitudes. So have adults. Several years Guy and I walked late at night, wondering if God would grant us only one child; other years we pondered job responsibilities and changes. During the years we’ve visited the Cation House, my dear dad and precious grandma have passed; siblings have married, cousins have been born; my family moved most of a long state away. Mom has cheered family in different directions while her big once-family-filled house has emptied, filled, emptied again.

Fifteen years ago, realizing my frazzled Mom needed a vacation, I queried: “Don’t you have a Time Share? Could we take the babies and go?” So we did, and It Was Good. We moved at kid-speed. We walked and played at beaches and play grounds. We prepared easy food. We relaxed and read and talked, good for our souls. We pondered, “Why don’t we do this again next year?”

Next Year became Every Year. What began as a vacation became a ritual. With The Kids we have created family memories, a place they can come back to year after year. These kids plan to come back, again and again, year after year, together and, eventually, with their own families. Undoubtedly, they will go to the same beaches, walk the same streets, take the same pictures, do the same things. Each year it will be the Same and Different. They will Remember and Reflect. They will spin on the circle of wave upon wave of the sea…and of family ritual.

Rituals: Cation House

Cation House

Writ large on the walls of the Monterey Bay Aquarium, Pablo Neruda’s words strike a chord in my soul: “I spin on the circle of wave upon wave of the sea.”

My life has felt like constant spinning, waves of joy and laughter, wash of chaos and drama, waves of peaceful beauty. My parents’ lives spun on disorder and turmoil until they spun into each other and, quickly, marriage. They attempted to overcome the tidal pull of established patterns; they did their best to remain upright in swirling waters. Still, my Airline Captain father flew in and out of our lives on air currents rather than water.

While I attended college my parents purchased a Time Share blocks from a NorCal beach (we lived a short drive from SoCal beaches). Recently I asked my mom, “Why?”
“To create family memories, to have a place we could come back to year after year.”

My parents, siblings and I never spent a week there as a family. My family, however – my mom and nephew, my husband and sons – has spent a week there every summer since Teen was two years old. We call it the “Cation House.”

******

Friends! The rest of today’s post appears on the blog of a dear one, Cara Meredith, aka Be.Mama.Be. I can’t wait for you to finish this story, so significant to my life, AND meet Cara – energetic, amazing, So Much Fun with the Best Laugh Ever! We laughed ourselves silly through The Great Snowpocalypse of 2010 following the National Prayer Breakfast. We prayed together and then got stranded together in the gorgeous hip-deep snow we waded through to enjoy DC monuments and distract ourselves from Where We Were Supposed To BE. Good times, y’all!CaraMac