back deck moments

Man, I love the beach. What is it about being there that makes you breathe deeper and enjoy life more? For me, I think it’s a kind of “coming home”. Growing up, I spent most of every summer at my family’s old beach house… laying on the beach, playing with my cousins, getting lost in books for hours (or days), sweltering in the house’s non-air-conditioned stickiness, enjoying (and bickering with) my family.

Down there, the back deck is where a lot of the living happens, especially at dusk and beyond. This past trip was no exception.

 

Cooper was a big fan of the back deck, especially if he got to sit in his cousins’ Dora chair. It was like “Goldilocks and The Three Bears”: “This chair is just right!”

 

 

Or if he was with Grandpa and his crazy faces. Please note that my father has never met an ultraviolet ray that he didn’t like. Cooper, well… he just hasn’t met one yet.

 

 

This is my cousin, Christopher, entertaining my nieces. My mom’s family congregates at the beach. My cousins (two sets) own a house across the street from ours. The rest stay with my grandparents, who built their retirement home just minutes away.

 

 

Speaking of my grandparents… this is “Pompaw”. In the last 10 years or so, Alzheimer's has stolen his memory, his independence, and a lot of his emotional control. Still, when he is happy (as he was at this moment), there is not a brighter smile or a sweeter voice. I just love it when he calls me “dahlin”.

 

 

I have always been impressed with the beauty of my “Memaw”, but lately I have been even more impressed with her strength. Determined to care for Pompaw basically on her own, she has fought with tenacity that I do not pretend to possess.  And look at her! Please, dear God, let me have inherited those genes.

 

 

At some point in the evening, I glanced outside to spy Memaw shagging by herself to some beach music. It wasn’t long before Pompaw joined her.

 

 

Are they not precious?? 

Note: If you have not seen the movie “Shag”, RUN- don’t walk"- to the nearest movie store and rent it. So classic.

 

 

My attempt to get a picture of Cooper with his great-grandparents was foiled. The child (sick most of the week) wouldn’t be farther than 3 inches from Curtis or me. So…  the picture became three of four generations. Not really sure why we didn’t call my mom into this one too. She was probably slaving over a hot stove, poor thing. God bless her… she needed some back deck time too. Don’t you?