This is it. The one week of the year where our tribe makes the faithful pilgrimage to the coast. I’m one of the outlaws–I married into this grand tradition–and the beginning is always my favorite part. This view. Right here.
From the top of the bridge, we are one of many, many cars in a long line waiting impatiently to begin another vacation. The kids are antsy and I’m tired of being in the car with them, but when we get to this point, our consternation melts away. We can see for miles in either direction, both the Intracoastal Waterway below us and the Atlantic churning in the distance.
It’s beautiful, not just because we stand in awe of God’s grand design, but because of what this week represents for all of us.
Another chance to stay at “our” beach house (as we’ve come to call the place we’ve rented three years running), another year of reconnecting, teaching our children what it means to be a part of a large family that vacations together.
We know it won’t be a perfect week, but it will be beautiful.
Because we spent it together, building memories that we’ll carry with us until we sit at the top of the bridge for our next first time.
Are you a writer? Give us five minutes this glorious Friday on the word ‘beautiful’ then link up over here with Lisa Jo Baker and the fantastic group of writers who participate in Five Minute Fridays.