Every year Grandma Dee and I pack up our suitcases together the night before we fly back home. Every year we have the same discussion. “Next year,Jul.” she always says, “Next year, I think we should only bring two pairs of shorts and a bathing suit. No one cares in Florida, it’s all we wear anyway.”
Then we take turns sitting on each other’s overloaded suitcases to zip them shut.
From home it always seems like we’ll need this or that, in case we go here or there (or the other place). But once our feet hit the sand, all we really need is sunscreen and our suits (and a little cash for a Duffy Burger).
I’ve never been a beach person, but this is my favorite seven days of the year. Somehow the hot sunny beach has become this freckled redhead’s “happy place”. Watching the kid’s swim until salt and chlorine have filled every pore, morning coffee with my parents, overnights with Grandma Dee (just like when I was little) – it’s the best.
I took Grandma’s advice this year, and managed to pack next to nothing, but I still came home with more than I could have ever hoped.