As I read this post from Shauna Niequist this morning, I was filled with nostalgia and family memories of summers gone by on the Outer Banks of North Carolina. We don't have our own little island, and our memories don't house conch fritters and row-boat rides, but I loved reading about her precious times with her family, and the million little memories that have stacked onto one another over their years of visiting the same place, together.
Ever since my parents scraped together the funds to buy a piece of heaven-on-earth when I was in high school, we've been able to stack memories, one on top of the other, of yearly summer weeks spent together. And Memorial Day. Labor Day. Cold winter weekends to get away during the off-season--just you and some folks you love sharing nothing in particular, but doing it together. Retreats for church women--that much-needed get-away for harried young mothers, afforded only because of the generosity of my folks. I doubt they knew all they were providing when they made that purchase all those years ago. My family has precious memories I could never have afforded to provide--not even once, let alone year after year--because of the generous provision of two parents who gathered the generations by the seashore every summer.
Thank you, Mom and Dad, for providing us with this blessing for all the years of our married life! Our family trips to the NC shore are precious to me. I'm full of precious memories with precious people over many precious, fleeting years.
From quiet, carefree, joy-filled days getting to know each other as husband and wife... to a tiny newborn sleeping in a drawer... setting up sun tents for sandy, sleeping infants (who no doubt have sand clutched in their teeny fists)... fits thrown at bedtime, or when it's time to get out of the hot tub... little cloth sun hats that cover tiny heads and necks, and shade little pudgy cheeks... toys and games in the owners' closet, like old friends who meet us for a once-a-year visit...Fresh fruit and veggies from Powell's on the way in... little pink, sunburned cheeks... meltdowns on the back nine as we play putt-putt past bedtime... sandcastles... working on puzzles together in the hot room with the ice machine... little girls fighting over who has to sleep on the trundle bed... MuMama's blue beach chair... Tripoly... making t-shirts together at that cool clothing shop... stopping for BBQ buffets... looking for shells and sea glass in the cool of the early morning...
Stepping on Pooh guys by the upstairs wood table... fireworks on the beach... chasing sand crabs in the dusky twilight... five little girls always pairing up to leave someone "out"... that bouncy, green cart with yellow wheels, full of shovels and buckets and coolers and all manner of fun... the respite of shade under a colorful umbrella... Rummikub... watching the neighbors' illegal firecrackers catch the dried sea grass on fire--and having to call the fire department!... Cabin Boy... bike rides to the pool... a buried body with a sandy mermaid's tail... honey buns for breakfast... Yahtzee... boursin... spying on feral cats from the balcony...
Lazy naps in a hammock... having to take turns with boogie boards and skim boards and huge, floating rings... offering your great-grandmother an arm on the walk to the ocean... knowing your great-grandmother--and I mean, really knowing her...
Taking refuge in a dark theater on yet another rainy day... Lighthouse bagels... late-night neighbor-partying keeping everyone awake... little fits and tears over sunscreen in little eyes... swinging on the swing set by the community pool... sunburned ears or feet because someone forgot about coating them... "Ssssh! Aunt Nita's still asleep on the couch!"... early morning walks through Pine Island...
Looking for a bargain at the "all merchandise 50% off" spots... adding whatever is needed to the community grocery list... baths in Nanny's big, jetted tub... "reapply!"... dear dogs running on the beach, which may just be what doggie heaven is like now for Huckie and Zach and Little and Winston... guitars and fiddles and ukeleles...
Skinned elbows and knees from bike-time wipeouts... a huge lazy Susan... a row of bikes heading to the grocery store or to get Duck Donuts... Nita's spaghetti, and Nanny's pound cake, and MuMama's banana pudding: the tastes of beach week... "and now we're having fun writing songs with the fam..."
"There will be a day when memories will be all we have," said Shauna Niequist. Tears spring to my eyes as I consider how true this is. I think of many people I have loved, those I can now only meet in my memory. I know the time is short... with our parents, one of whom is already passed from this life to the next. With our children, one of whom is already pledged to another, beginning to dream about what life will look like when "home" isn't the same place as my own four walls. I cry for my pastor, whose son was unexpectedly snatched from them a month ago by a gunman's stray bullet. I cry for my sweet friend Jeanine, who entered her final rest from her courageous battle with cancer just 36 hours ago. I cry for their family members and friends, who now visit with those they love only in memories. The time given us is short, and life is fleeting, and in a matter of moments we have to say goodbye... whether we were ready to or not.
I am driven to a desire to live each moment to the fullest--in connection--and to never waste another precious moment of life fighting or arguing or taking those I love for granted! I am driven to a desire to capture memories better than I do--more pictures, more videos, more snapshots of daily-day life with those precious ones who live in my circle, at least for this day. I am driven to a Savior, who comforts my pain--and that of my friends--and who has made a way of lasting comfort and joy for me: that I may know Him in this life, and that I may know Him--and my loved ones who also know Him--forever in the life to come. "Now this is eternal life: that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom you have sent" - John 17:3.
"Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever" - Psalm 23:6. And until that day, may I live life deliberately, like one who is "stealing against the inevitability of time," and loving every minute of it I'm given. Thank you, Shauna, for the reminder!
*Entry 7, July - The 12 Months of 2014 Blog Challenge
The title is a line from the song "Seasons in the Sun," recorded by Terry Jacks, and then by the Beach Boys, and then covered by many others. It is an adaptation of Rod McKuen's lyric poem, which is itself an English translation of a French one, "Le Moribond."
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