Tuesday, July 29, 2014

It's a shame you don't know what you're running from.

Brunswick Diner
This is living. This is living.

My birthday marks two-thirds of the summer gone. Memorial Day is the starting gate, the Fourth we are in high-gear. I remind the children not to think to the future, not to wish for Maine. It will come, and when it comes, it means we are in the homestretch. Be here now. And they are, they have been. It has been a long, full summer.

We took our time this year, the most relaxed and engaged I have felt on a road trip in some time. Of course, that can be expensive, but those are bills we will have to pay (figuratively, literally). We haven't taken two nights to reach the Cove since the children were very small, usually we push through in two days.

This year we had a special stop at Six Flags New England, where our two careful and wise children took some risks and rode the roller coasters. It was an amazing family experience, and honestly, I was the scared one. Not for me, but for them. I can't help it. I live from moment to moment waiting for the next disaster.

We settled into Flood's Cove last night without even unpacking. Taking our time is the rule of the day, and we will be here for the better part of two weeks. I have spent this morning reading, writing, and chatting with my brother, as it should be. An eleven a.m. run is not out of order.

Temperature: 70°
Climate: bright, beautiful and hot
Distance: 3.8 miles

Last night after the sun went down the girl put on a hoodie, grabbed her music and a flashlight and announced she was going to sit on the dock. My child, alone, on a wobbly dock floating on the ocean, in the dark.

She is eleven. I walked this cove with a flashlight, on my own, ages before that. I nodded and she went.

When I was just shy of thirteen, I sat in a hammock for the better part of two weeks, using my father's new Walkman to listen to a mix tape I had made of all my new 45's from that summer. Same 90 minute tape, both sides, over and over. Dreaming of being a teenager.

Pompeii Playlist
Summer Skin - Death Cab for Cutie
Radio - Lana Del Rey
Your Biggest Mistake - Ellie Goulding
Believer - American Authors
Animal - Ellie Goulding
Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want - The Smiths
I'm Not Alone - Calvin Harris
Atlas Hands * - Benjamin Francis Leftwich
Cousins * - Vampire Weekend

Me and my cousins and you and your cousins. It's a line that is always running.

No comments: