Monday was a day that found me feeling a bit nostalgic. I was thinking about my brother and sister and growing up, the youngest in my family, on Cape Cod.
We lived a 5 minute walk from the beach and each sunny day in the summer we would walk down to the beach with my mother, her beach chair, a cooler/picnic and my mother’s book. Mom would sit and read her books, and my sister would watch me, making sure I did not try to swim to Martha’s Vineyard. My brother would swim as well, although he didn’t really want to do too much with his baby sister. (I was younger than him by 7 years.)
I loved the beach. I loved the smell of the salt water, the warm sand beneath my feet and the sun on my face. My cousins would come, usually in August and then we would all go to the beach. This was even better because Janet was there, and she and I played in a world, all our own!
Mom loved the beach so much. As did Janet’s parent’s, my Aunt Betty and Uncle George. In fact my Uncle George taught me to dive, and swim distances and most importantly, what to do if I got tired in the water…float.
Uncle George was also sort of my Hero.
You see, one day I was playing at the edge of the surf, when I stepped down and had one of my toes nearly cut off! I stood there crying watching the blood flow! My Uncle picked me up, wrapped a towel around my foot and carried me home, then drove me to the emergency room where I had 4 stitches to sew my toe back on.
The picture below was taken when I was five years old. That is my late brother, Dickie, my sister, Melodie and the scrawny little thing at the end is me.
I’m feeling very nostalgic because in 2 weeks, Janet and I will be going back to Cape Cod for my High School Reunion. Hubby is staying home, to care for the dogs, and once again it will be Janet and me going all over town, remembering…
