At the beach at the beach......

As a kid, I never had the annual family vacation that many do. My friend Tiffany still goes to the same mountain resort, the same week of the year, to simultaneously unwind and recharge. Every year I hear about the bingo games, who had to share what cabin, and you won the dart tournament. And even though I've always prided myself on being the sort of person that doesn't get attached to one particular place, (Home is within, wanderlust and all that jazz) I have always been just a tad jealous of the annual retreat. The idea of returning to a place that isn't home, but still familiar, must be wonderfully comforting. The rituals associated with getting ready for what is guaranteed to be a good time, regardless of weather, traffic or other minor mishap that's bound to occur seem natural and necessary to the human spirit.

This memorial day will mark my third trip to Destin, Florida. I will drive 6.5 hours. The night before I will throw shorts, t-shirts, swim suit and some undies into a bag. I will make a last minute trip to Wal-mart--a store I only go to in preparation for this trip for last minute food, sunblock and flip-flops. I will leave Savannah later than I initially planned. I will be amazed that the orange road construction barrels still stand sentry on the way to Jacksonville, but no progress to the road has been made. I will curse how long Florida is (both in width and length). I will pass the building in Tallahassee that reminds me of a Duracell battery and I will think "almost there!" even though is at least 2 more hours of driving. I will drive over the bridge, pass the permanently docked shrimp boat, and drive right by our condos and need to turn back around. I will find a key under the mat, grab a beer from the fridge and head down to the beach--Terri's white tent will be a straight shot from the gate. I will say my hellos, settle in and remark that I can't believe how green the water is, how soft the sand feels. Someone will tell me that they call this part of Florida the emerald coast. Terri will make sure I have applied sunscreen, but I will burn anyway. Our only plans for the next three days will be, whose turn is it to make the 5 o'clock mudslides and who is making dinner.

And somewhere, sometime---I will realize that I have my family vacation.