Spring Break

Thirty one years ago, we were waiting for the birth of our third child and I was already going on two weeks past term. My doctor suggested that if I wanted to use him as the delivery doctor, maybe I should just come in and have the baby day after tomorrow, as he was planning to leave on a cruise for Spring Break. Just a side note: back then we didn’t actually get to find out what we were going to have – boy or girl. So, I wore one pink knee sock and one blue knee sock into the delivery room. Nine hours later, my shortest labor out of three, my OB doctor delivered our beautiful baby girl. All was well until she reached maybe her thirteenth birthday – it being Spring Break – she was off on a youth sail boat ride, and fourteen was a cruise with a friend’s family, and so on for years to come. When she got a little older, Spring Break trips consisted of a group of her friends going off to Padre Island or Las Vegas. After many years I got used to the idea that I would never see my youngest child on her birthday again…but I still complained year after year. Finally, one birthday she came out and told me, “Gee Mom, I can’t help it that you had me during Spring Break!” As we sit visiting with her (now 31) and her family (now two babies of her own) for her birthday, I realize how blessed I am that she’s settled at home on her birthday. And once again, my cup runneth over.

GO’s Sand Bucket is only one beach bum’s journal of life at the beach, probably something each of you can relate to. Please feel free to email me with your thoughts, visions and/or feelings of just exactly what the beach means to you.
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