As I’m shaking the last grains of sand out of my suitcase following what was a marvelous family vacation in Myrtle Beach, I’ve come to realize how much I love going to the beach.
(Scroll further down for the bonus photo of my favorite midlifer’s and my wedding on the beach in Negril, Jamaica)
I guess there really is something to that don’t know whatcha got ‘til it’s gone adage!
What’s gone is the ability to get to a beach without buying a plane ticket or needing a full tank of gas and a GPS. What I’m referring to are the carefree, beach bumming days of my Jersey Shore childhood – I’m talking about the South Jersey shore – that hidden treasure, that Situation and Real Housewife-free, quiet family friendly part of the Garden State.
As a kid, I could walk or ride my Huffy to the beach. The only time we drove was when we wanted to go further down the Shore to what was known as Chickenbone beach. In my clueless youth, I never realized the significance of this stretch of sand, but that’s for another posting.
Even after college, I didn’t stray too far from Jersey’s sandy shores. I had some great times in Spring Lake, Belmar, Seaside and Long Branch.
Now, instead of simply going to the beach, I have to go on vacation to get to a beach. As discussed in these pages a few weeks ago, a permanent beachfront address is one of those bucket list items my favorite midlifer and I share.
But for now, I can enjoy the memories.