I took a mini-vacation to my parent's beach cottage. The place has been uninhabited for almost a year, and with COVID, my parents struggled to find someone they trusted to maintain it. Also blamed on COVID was our inability to go on a vacation this summer, so we combined the two situations into a mini-vacation/maintenance visit. We spent part of each day cleaning, weeding, and informing my parents of problems we found. I replaced the kitchen sink faucet that was on the verge of breaking off and spraying water everywhere. Meanwhile, the waves were small in town and the weather was holding down the wind. The result was tiny waves at the point that were surfable all day long. The first day was a travel day and knocking the dust off the house. The next day was fixing the sink and other chores. The third day I woke before dawn and headed out to the point in the darkness. There were already at least 6 other surfers out. They seemed pretty stoked to be chasing down every ripple, hooting to each other and speaking at regular volume between waves. In the pre-dawn light and stillness of no wind and small waves, the loud voices made me uncomfortable. I paddled away to a spot with nobody out because the waves weren't hitting it very well. I only got a few rides, and nothing memorable, before the thought of what else I could do to clean the cottage started filling my thoughts between waves. I went in unsatisfied with the experience. I knew I could go up the coast for waves, especially with the calm winds, but instead I opted to spend a day sleeping. My body was feeling the effects the extra effort I've been putting in at work and at home. On Saturday it felt like it all caught up to me and after three cups of coffee, I went back to sleep anyway. It worked because I spent Sunday morning pulling weeds, trimming vines, and doing general cleanup around the yard.
The highlight of the vacation was each afternoon going down to the beach to play in the waves with my son. I played along with the imagination games, running up and down with the waves, and built a few sand castles. I was proud as his confidence with the ocean slowly increased. On the last day a wave pulled him off his feet and I wasn't there to scoop him up right away. I was nearby, and ready if he didn't get to his feet before the next wave came, but I wanted to let him save himself this time. It worked out as he managed to run up the beach before the next wave came, but his confidence was clearly shaken. We took a break to warm up and get some snacks at the towels.
I explained to him that the house belongs to his grand parents, but when they die it will belong to me. He argued to skip that step and just have the house be his, like now, and us to move there. I know that feeling of a great vacation and wishing that was your life, even though I didn't feel it this trip. I'm glad we have this place by the beach to go and visit so easily. I look forward to many more days of chasing my son along the sand, and one day pushing him into a wave.
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