This month we finally got a chance to have a couple of days away. To celebrate my Mum’s birthday, we headed to the coast to spend a couple of nights away in a caravan. Keeping strictly to the current Covid rule of 6, we jumped in our cars for a few days of normality at the beach.
The sun shone all weekend and considering my relationship with my parents is somewhat dysfunctional – we had a great time. We chatted like we used to. Laughed and just enjoyed the time. We ate out, walked along the beach and took my daughter to the funfair. Drank until late listening to music and relaxed. I didn’t want it to end.
We went to the same beach I had spent my childhood summers with my grandparents. I hadn’t been back in many years and had intentionally avoided it since the death of my Granddad over 2 years ago. I spent my childhood on this beach. My teen years in these arcades and kids clubs. So much had changed but so much was the same. I was worried I would find the memories too painful but this wasn’t the case at all.
Watching my Dad and my Daughter, throwing stones in the water, like I had done with my Grandad over 30 years ago was bittersweet. I’m sure my Grandparents would have been thrilled to know that we were still visiting this place. In that moment it felt like I had come full circle. My baby girl was laughing with her Granddad, on the very beach I used to do the same as a child.
My Mum had a fabulous birthday. All her gifts arrived right on time. Her birthday, much like most adults I guess, consists of a few moments and a couple of cards then off to work. This year, we stopped and we celebrated and it felt really special.
My parents went to bed earlier than they used to. There always used to be this massive dash to get our ‘glad rags’ on and head to the club house when I was younger. This time was different. Still great fun but it was painfully clear that my folks were getting older. I hadn’t spent this much time with them in years and the difference was stark. Mum got very tired easily. My Dad struggled with joint pain in his hands and needed help preparing breakfast in the kitchen. I had become a grown up. Looking after my daughter and supporting my parents simultaneously.
I’ve been so busy with my life; I missed that the years that had passed so slowly for me, as I enjoyed my daughters milestones, had flown by for other members of my family.
I’ve been stuck in the mindset of how much others have missed by not actively engaging in my life, that I also missed not being part of theirs. I don’t drive anymore so I am unable to visit my family as much as I used to but we all need to adapt and make alternative arrangements to keep our family together. We may not be The Waltons. My brother and I are definitely not Monica and Ross from Friends but we need to make more effort. We need to make the time, while we still have the time.
Over 30 years have passed since me and my Granddad walked along this beach like we had all the time in the world. My Nan would watch us standing on the pebbles and we would be down by the waters edge. I would lose my Nan before I became a teenager. My Granddad thankfully saw me grow up and become a mother.
Being back along that stretch of coast last week filled my heart. I have never had a bad time there. I have been there with family, boyfriends and school friends over the years. Each time enjoying the warm feeling that we have all this time together. As the token grown up this time around, I realised that we don’t have all the time in the world. We have each other, right now and need to make the most of it.
‘Beginnings are usually scary, endings are usually sad, but it’s what’s in the middle that counts. So when you find yourself at the beginning, just give hope a chance to float up. And it will’.
Steven Rogers, Hope Floats