I was a beach baby. That may not be surprising, seeing as how I grew up in Miami. What may be surprising is how much I hated going to the beach as a kid. My mom loved going to the beach and tried to spend every weekend sitting on the sand, soaking up the sun, and gazing at the beautiful turquoise ocean.
I would complain, cry, and throw tantrums to try to avoid going to the beach. (“But we go EVERY weekend, Mom!”) I wanted nothing more than to spend my weekends watching Saturday morning cartoons and playing outside with my neighborhood friends, climbing trees, roller skating, you name it. A day at the beach was not really on my list of fun weekend activities. I never won this argument and always begrudgingly hopped into the car alongside a huge basket of beach toys and a cooler filled with snacks for the day. Off to Miami Beach we went.
By the end of the day I’d cry once again as my mom forced me out of the water or away from my sand castles because it was time to go home. My poor mom just couldn’t win… I’d cry because I didn’t want to go, then I’d cry because I didn’t want to leave. Sorry, Mom!
20-something years later, I understand why my mom always wanted to go to the beach. It’s the same reason I always want to be at the beach now. It’s a place of peace. No matter what chaos or turmoil is happening in your life, the ocean seems to bring clarity. It temporarily washes away your hardships. It reminds you that life is beautiful.
I have a birthday coming up and my awesome husband and his awesome parents gifted me with a trip back home. YAY! (Cue Will Smith’s “Welcome to Miami”… or just about any Pitbull song.) Unfortunately, this trip comes just 2 weeks after returning from what can only be described as a difficult family vacation (#thefockersdospain). I have been feeling uneasy about my birthday trip, fearing that everyone still needs a little bit of space (myself included)… compounded by the fact that those damn birthday blues are bound to creep in.
My solution? The beach. I decided to get an Airbnb at the beach. I have to tell you, my soul already feels lighter and I haven’t even stepped foot on the sand.
My mom used to tell me that salt water could cure just about anything. I grew up believing this to be true. Here’s to testing that theory…
“The cure for anything is salt water – tears, sweat, or the sea.” — Isak Dinesen