“People throw away what they could have by insisting on perfection, which they cannot have, and looking for it where they will never find it” (~Edith Schaeffer)
Our beach trip.
I described it as sublime in my last post.
Which it was.
But in reality, it wasn’t perfect.
The trip down found me in tears, talking on the phone with my Nanny, weeping over Pappy’s and her absence. This was my first year at the beach without my grandparents. There was a bitterness, a pain, a longing that rose up. I dialed their number and heard my Nanny’s voice, and I immediately choked back a sob. We talked about our trip, about missing them, about how different it was, then I heard the tears fill her voice, “You’ll have fun, though. Try not to think about it. We love you.” How could I not think about it? I told Brian after I hung up, “Some days I just don’t like life.” He knew what I meant. This sadness, this grief. I can’t explain how, but it dances with the joy in my heart.
It’s vacation. And it’s beautiful. But it’s still a vacation with sinners. There were cranky days and hard moments. There were tears and there were broken words. There were sleepless nights and too many mosquito bites. There were sunburns and thunderstorms. There were arguments and meltdowns (both the children and mine). There were frustrations, and there were my expectations.
I am a perfectionist.
So, do you want to guess what my expectations were?
And it wasn’t perfect.
But there were bike rides, kayak journeys, tag chases and Red Light, Green Light games on the beach. There were amusement park rides and miniature golf games and birthday celebrations (Happy Birthday to my big brother, Mike!). There were boogie board rides and waves to be jumped, castles to be built and bocci ball challenges. There were ice cream cones on the boardwalk and fireworks over the sand. There were books to be read and rays to be caught. There were Uno matches and Sorry games and Scrabble boards and Trivial Pursuit quests. There were yummy foods and fresh fruits and lunches on the beach. There were times apart and times together.
So my expectations?
But we were family.
And it was perfect.