.....time travel

Yogis,
It was summer 1988.  I was twenty-six years old and carrying my second son. A coworker had been singing the praises of a vacation in the Outer Banks of NC, so we convinced a few couples to come, loaded the car and headed down for a week. We fell in love and haven’t missed a summer since.

The group quickly grew and to give you a sense, this year there were 58 of us spread across six houses. Today I returned from my 34^th  trip…..

In those early days we were the young ones. All in our twenties and thirties we arrived each summer pregnant or with young ones in tow. Figuring out the best way to get babies to nap on the beach so we didn’t have to miss the prime time of day. Eager for the one evening we could escape parental duties to sit at an oyster bar and drink margaritas. Windows down on the ride back with the Cranberries blaring from the radio, while that year’s poor designated driver had to tolerate our shrieks of laughter for the half hour ride home.

Those babies quickly became teenagers while our attention turned to keeping a watchful eye over them. Handling the irate neighbor whose window was broken by an errant water balloon. Keeping count of the number of beers in the downstairs fridge and tracking down our coolers when they went missing. Knowing they were right in the neighborhood, yet still not falling into deep sleep until we heard them thundering up the stairs and pouring themselves late night bowls of cereal.

The years flew by as we shared stories of college applications, girlfriends/boyfriends and first jobs. Summers of sharing wedding pictures and catching up on who lives where. The little ones who slept in playpens on the beach now living in Alaska, Texas, Nashville. More mature each time we walk over that dune.

Now those babies have babies…..

In our group this year there were 15 kids under the age of 6. Their parents now the ones in their twenties and thirties with more modern beach gear, yet the same joys and challenges.

And we are now the grandparents.

Sitting in my beach chair watching each day’s scene unfold is like going back in time. The big hole dug each morning. The little ones standing on their boogie boards and eating twizzlers. Keeping an eye on the one who likes to run away. Sandcastles and sandy late afternoon melt downs. Yet now we aren’t in charge as we return to our discussions on retirement and where we will be traveling this winter.

On the car ride home today my son and I listened to a podcast and there was a discussion on time travel. Most people who wish they could do it would choose to go back in time to make changes. To me, this annual ritual we have collectively created in the OBX is an annual going back in time. Watching it all happen once more…..but not wishing to change a thing.

As for traveling to the future? All I have to do is wait another 358 days.

Traveling through time,
SARAH