I like to compare my thought process to a cup of hot cider with a cinnamon stick. Stir and stir. Mull things over. It gets better and better with just a little extra time. That's what I did about this past weekend. It's not very often that my sister and I get our girls together. Just us. Maybe during holidays or special occasions. We spend the day together. But a whole weekend is unheard of these days. When our kids were young, mama, my sister and I, and our three girls, would get together for a week at the beach. Some how we managed to make it a yearly trip. Our close friend and her daughter would join us. My son which was seven years younger than my daughter only got in on a trip or two. By the time he came along we had stopped making it a yearly tradition. Each year was a little different; a little older, possibly a little wiser, hopefully not a little heavier, but the one thing that was a must was..."beach fruit." Orange juice poured over fruit cocktail with bananas cut into small pieces, chilled and ready to eat at any time. Simply delicious. Nothing more refreshing after a day in the sun. We spent hours at the pool. For some reason we seldom went down to the gulf. Something about salt, sand, sweat, and small children that just didn't mix. Then after we had all the fun we could stand for one day, we bathed, put on our summer's best, fixed our hair (which seemed to take hours) and went out to eat. Love thinking about those days. I remember the year daddy died, mama couldn't stand the thought of having Christmas at home. Fifty-six years of memories. So where did we go? The beach. I think it was a safest place for her that year. She rented a condo for the whole family. We tried hard to maintain normalcy; a Christmas tree, gifts, homemade gumbo, grands all around her...but daddy wasn't there. My daughter called me several months ago while we were in our cabin in North Carolina. "Mama, I want to do something special for nana," the girls call her. "Do you think you will be free for a weekend the last of August?" she inquired. She had invited her aunt and cousin's as well. This was June. I put it on my calendar. It was a date. We all agreed to make this a special weekend "just for her." The weekend finally arrived. My daughter had given me all the information I needed; where to go, what to do, and exactly how she wanted it done. I told her okay. When she gets bossy I do that to get her to hush. My sister and I had the challenge of getting our mama to the beach without her knowing anything about what we had planned. My sister has a place west of where we always took our children when they were young, so we told her we were going there. Of course that wasn't the truth. We were going back to the place of our "summer getaways." "Mama, we're going to try this new restaurant in PC for dinner," we told her on our way. She was happy and content. One thing for sure. She trust my sister and I. I think we could drag her off to Kalamazoo and she would come right along smiling. The road was all torn up; under heavy construction, so it made the area a little hard to travel and a little confusing, but because my sister is the "directional one" between the two of us, I felt I was in safe hands. We arrived to the condo or restaurant ( mama thought). I realized that my phone was dead. I could just hear my daughter. "Mama, make sure you keep your phone charged," she insisted. I didn't. All the directions that she had so precisely given me were stored in it. Plus, I was suppose to video the whole thing, per her orders. When I told my sister that my phone was dead, I saw the same look on her face that I had seen so many times growing up. That look of ,"Can you do anything right?" Well guess what? Younger sisters don't have to, we have our older sisters to take care of things. Sure enough, my sister saved the day when she made communication quickly with her children upstairs. We were on our way. I grabbed her phone to video tape the wild goose chase. And it was that. Now just listen to this. We walked through the entrance door of the condo, walked down the hallway to look for the elevator, got on the elevator, went up the the fourteenth floor, got off the elevator and walked past ten rooms or so until we finally reached our room, knocked on the door and there they were...our three girls dressed in Hawaiian clothes holding up signs, "This Is For You!!!!" Poor mama! We blew her mind for sure! All she could say was,"What are ya'll doing here?" Bless her heart, she still was looking for the restaurant. She was over-whelmed to say the least. She shed a few tears and said, "No one has every done anything like this for me." Crazy as it might sound, I can safely say, "We pulled it off." My daughter's plans had been beautifully implemented. We had a luau on the deck, complete with flaming torches, coconut shrimp, meatballs/pineapple skewers, and fruity drinks. It's a wonder someone didn't report us. We were not quiet....but, we never are. We enjoyed ourselves. Mama is eighty-seven and puts us all to shame. She gets up every morning before sunrise to walk around the track at the local hospital, every day of her life. Everyone that knows her still describes her as beautiful; inside and out. She might be older and a little hard of hearing, but she is no push over. She doesn't talk very loud and she doesn't talk very much, but let me just tell you, when mama speaks...we listen. We all pretty much think, "she hung the moon." My only sister doesn't talk a lot either. But, she enjoys conversation. We get so tickled at her. She's a little gullible at times. She's the kind of person that gets the punch line a few seconds after everyone else gets it. She's not a slacker though. She can figure out the killer on her favorite crime shows when others can't... just skip the jokes. She and I were always different when we were younger, being four and half years apart, and didn't have a lot in common. But you know what? I don't think that anymore...she has become my best friend. Her two daughters, my nieces, are as different as my sister and I were growing up. One loves to talk and the other not so much, but is a good listener. She's like her aunt a little; loves to "mull " things over in her mind. If I were to describe them to you I would say one is right brain and the other is left; one intuitive the other analytical. But, actually I think both of them are mathematical and both creative, so, so much for that theory. One thing I do know for sure is, they are beautiful, caring, committed young woman. I am as proud of them; as proud as my sister is. Well, almost!
I saved my daughter for last. I can't tell you about her without telling you about me too. We are like lemonade. Sour yet sweet. Or is it sweet yet sour? Either way, when you take a sip, you never know exactly what you are going to get. It might be so lemony that you squint your eye or delicious enough to just sit back and enjoy. I don't think I have ever been as talkative as my daughter is but I don't think she sits and ponders like I do, but we are alike in so many ways. We are crazy about music. Love a good time! We are very emotional and often misunderstood. When we believe in someone or some thing we believe wholeheartedly. We have had our share of pain but also our share of joy! We both strive for balance. It just doesn't come easy for us. When I look in my daughters eyes, I sometimes still see a sad little girl. I think she is finding herself though. It took me a long time to find myself too. Daughter, you have a heart of gold. Thank you for such a special weekend.💕 We can definitely chalk one more up for the beach. No "beach fruit." But, nevertheless,
many memories were made with our little lady, Nellie Herrick.
I pray we have many more❤
sammie jean
