I loved our evening treks across the beach bridge. At this point we had seen our sights and made our family visits and eaten our meals for the day; there was nothing left to do but revel in sun and surf and quality time with one another. Saturday’s beach-time was especially satisfying, as the sunset was particularly beautiful and Jules was particularly fun.
Moana’s voice piped through my head every time Juliette waded out into the water – I’m the girl who loves the sea, It calls meeeeeee…
The ocean calls me too, kiddo!
Juliette and I romped in the water for a good hour that night, playing until my dress was soaked up to my waist and we were both exhausted from wave-jumping.
A swell of foreboding storm clouds rolled in and we wondered if we should dart for cover.
As quickly as the clouds rolled in, though, they rolled out.
We were packing up shop for the night when Juliette found this amazing sand-plane a short ways down the beach, so we delayed bedtime by a few minutes to let her take a quick flight. Such a magical place, this little stretch of sand…
By Sunday I was itching to get out of town, so my mom and dad offered to hang with Juliette while Shane and I drove down to Saint Petersburg to check out the scene there. We grabbed coffee at a hip little shop and then strolled down the main drag, ending up at The Mill for brunch.
We walked off our bacon and eggs with a trip down to the Dali Museum on the waterfront.
And then, not wanting to deprive my parents of additional solo time with their granddaughter, Shane and I lingered over iced Americanos and Monopoly cards at Indian Shores Coffee.
We landed back at my parents’ condo mid-afternoon and heard all about their turtle-watching adventure with Great Grandma Alice.
Then, POOL.
Then, BEACH. The ultimate daily rhythm.
We ate dinner that night at a beach bar on the waterfront, feasting on crab cakes and broiled shrimp one last time.
The ocean seemed extra-warm and extra-mellow that night, so Shane and Juliette waded way out in search of dolphins.
When they didn’t find any, Juliette asked Shane to be her dolphin. Being the stellar father that he is, he obliged. My happiest of happy places is on a quiet stretch of beach, my feet dug into the warm sand, watching these two be silly together.
On Monday morning we packed up our things and turned in the keys to our beach-front abode. Knowing that we had a long day of travel ahead of us, I caffeinated with a double latte at the Coffee Mill. My Grandma opened this store 40 years ago in a brave, faith-filled effort to make a living for herself after she and my grandfather divorced. Though business ownership was demanding, it sustained her and the few of my family members who worked there in various capacities throughout the years. I so vividly remember visiting this store as a kid, staring wide-eyed at the rows of candy jars, feeling like I’d hit the jackpot when Grandma handed me little bags of gummy fish and jelly beans and Holland mints. My Aunt Karen eventually took over the Mill and just recently sold it, but I couldn’t resist returning for a stroll down memory lane. The smell of roasted coffee and the creak of the wood floors took me back, though I dearly missed the sight of Grandma’s smiling face behind the cash register.
We met up with my Aunt Karen and my mom’s cousin Gail for breakfast that morning, getting the scoop on more family happenings…
And then set out on an alligator hunt. We found what we were looking for at Taylor Park, in the form of two beady eyes peering out from the water 30 feet off-shore. Juliette gasped excitedly, but lost interest once she realized this particular alligator wasn’t going anywhere.
We stopped by my Grandma’s place before heading out of town and I was thrilled by her exceedingly warm welcome. She hugged me and grabbed both my hands and gushed over how happy she was to see me. She knew me! Like old times! And then she went to introduce me to the friends at her lunch table and drew a blank with my name, remarking that she hadn’t seen me in years and years. It was as if our visits over the previous few days had never taken place. I held back tears, knowing that by the next day she’d likely have forgotten me completely. I’m not so good at living in the moment – I’m much more prone to reminisce about days gone by or look ahead to the next great adventure. But for Grandma, the moment is largely it. So I took a deep breath, steadied my voice, and asked her if she wanted to show me around her place. And just as she did on my previous visit, and on the one before that, she took my hand and led me through her endless courtyard, remarking about the trees and the squirrels and the sun overhead. I nodded encouragingly, telling her how beautiful it all was, how happy I was to be there with her. In that moment.
I hugged Grandma extra-tight as we said our good-byes and then she wrapped up Juliette in the warmest, most grandmotherly embrace a kid could wish for. I’m so glad Jules had a chance to meet Alice, a woman who has lived a life of unwavering kindness and generosity and faith.
Tears stung my eyes again as we made our exit and the door swung closed behind us, Grandma smiling and waving from the hallway. My heart overflowed with both gratitude and sadness on our drive to Tampa. Gosh, good-byes hurt. But after lunch, as I watched Juliette happily slurp up drips of key lime popsicle juice and chatter about Great Grandma Alice and turtles and pelicans, I felt the scales tip toward gratitude. This trip was all I’d hoped it would be.
