Vacation. Part II
What a week I picked to be away. I completely dodged the Blizzard of 2013. The only three feet of precipitation I had to deal with was the shallow end of the pool at my grandparents’ condo. And though I splashed along with my niece and nephew, my sisters and I checked the updates up north. Happy to be in 77-degree weather, we also wanted to be home, hunkered down with extra blankets, snacks and flashlights waiting out the storm. There’s a sense of excitement in preparing for a blizzard and staying in your pajamas all day, catching up on reading and puzzles.
When driving bans were put into effect Friday afternoon, though I was slathered in sunscreen, a part of me wished to be stuck at home too. No work. No school. No shopping. It’s rare in today’s world when everything stops. Even Sundays and Christmas are no longer quiet. There’s something magical when life slows to a crawl and our only option is to be still.
Although I longed for the immobility happening up north, my southern experience ran a close second. Aside from picking seashells at the beach, eating my grandmother’s homemade meals, and speaking with my grandfather in front of 200 fifth graders, life in Florida – at least in Boca Raton – is slow paced. Seniors take their time as though trying to make each moment last a bit longer.
This annual trip, though similar in many ways, was unique from the ones before. Sandwiched between four generations, my niece and nephew, 8 and 5, and my grandparents, 91 and 87, gave me the opportunity to see life from two vastly different perspectives, people coming and people going. What I realized is that both parties need extra time getting in and out of cars. They both have different reasons for eating slowly, and both hold their hugs a tad longer. These are lessons, I learned, that should be done regardless of weather or age.