I am not famous. I have never made the news or even a newspaper for something extraordinary or important that I accomplished. I live in a small beach community that I chose to live in and love. I have a lot of acquaintances but a very small group of friends, and like it that way. I cherish my husband, my children, my parents, my extended family and my pets. I believe in God and try my very best to live in a way that pleases Him. I am flawed and have many imperfections, but I have lived a life that I celebrate and feel incredibly grateful for each and every day. This life has come with good decisions and some not so good. I think I am feeling nudged, sometimes pushed, to write and quite possibly talk about some of these experiences. My intentions are not to boast, for if I am to be truly honest with myself and others, there will be some experiences that I am not proud of at all. It is an eerie feeling to put your deepest secrets to paper or to verbalize them in a testimony. My intentions are to help others who may find themselves in some of these circumstances. Like I mentioned before, I am an ordinary person with a story to tell. Blog, book or public speaking, I'm not sure how to safely go about it but I want to get started, very soon. 
We shall see...

It's here! That time of year we all look so forward to. Planning our vacations, parties, barbecues and get togethers, making wonderful life-long memories. Summertime, the very best time of year. 

Many of us connect those memories with childhood beach trips and long lazy days in the sun. The sounds, smells and people in those past events are what make them so precious. Smells and sounds that trigger our mind to go right back to the moment it actually happened, bringing a smile, sadness or even a longing to be there again. Think about some of your favorite times with family and friends. I bet a lot of them were at the beach.

Taking my walks on our beautiful coastline, smelling the ocean, hearing the waves, feeling the sand and wind on my skin is the most comforting feeling I know. It feels like home.

My life revolves around the sea and I don't think I could ever live far from it. It is my therapy, my best friend and one of the great loves in my life. I think when God created the oceans, with it's strength, beauty and wonder, He wanted each of us to cherish it and gain comfort just by being near it. For me, it is where I feel the closest to God. 

My wish for you, if you are reading this and close to the sea, is very simple. I wish you comfort, peace and your own beautiful life-long memories.

April has always been one of my favorite months. Here on the island there is an explosion of new colors in the foliage and new birds that arrive to take up residency in their spring and summer homes. It is that feeling of fresh starts and new beginnings that make it my preferred time of year.
 
It may also be that our firstborn child, Sara Kaitlin, was born in this month, 25 years ago. I remember that time in my life to be joyful beyond description with the anticipation of the incredible gift we were about to receive. She arrived at 5:20 in the morning, all 7 pounds 2 ounces and 19 inches of the most delicious little creature I had ever seen. Pretty from the get go, my husband and I spent hours just gazing at her. 

One time when I questioned why she hadn't started to walk at 13 months, my brother said, "I think y'all may have to put her down for her to do that." He was right, between my husband, my mom and myself, she was held most of the time.  We could not believe the tiny little person God had entrusted us with. How could we be so fortunate, so very blessed?

The name we chose is from one of our favorite Hall and Oates songs, Sara Smile, and with a beautiful smile, it suits her to a tee. Every year since she was born, at the exact moment she became ours, I sneak quietly into her room to give her a kiss and tell her how very much we love her. Now that she is grown and lives away from home, I call her and leave a message, always making sure she never forgets how we feel. 

I,  like so many other mom's I talk to, can't put into words what happens to you when that first baby comes. I do know that I felt as if my heart had grown twice it's normal size and was going to burst in my chest like the Grinch after he stole Christmas. Fully aware of everything around me in a protective way I had never experienced. We were different people, her daddy and me. People who no longer thought of ourselves first but made every decision around the well being of our little girl. She changed our lives in the very best of ways on April 21st, 1989 and I thank God everyday for our beautiful first born daughter, Sara.

Spoke to an old friend on the phone the other day. In this fast paced world with even faster technology, that has become uncommon for me, finding myself sending texts and messaging for quicker communication. She has a deep, slow, southern voice and I settled into a comfy chair looking forward to conversation with a friend I have missed and have learned so many valuable lessons from.

I met Alice about 13 years ago in the parking lot of the school our children were both attending. She pulled up fast and loud in a fire engine red "monster" truck, hopped out in daisy duke shorts, cowboy boots and wild blond hair that resembled a lion's mane. She remembers me with some laughter,  in my "fancy" car that she didn't even know existed and a very lady like sundress. To say we came from different worlds would be an understatement and I remember being a little taken aback by her at first. That feeling quickly disappeared when she revealed the warmest , friendliest smile I have ever encountered. It was like she was glowing and we became fast friends. 

Our children were also buddies, my Luke and  her Cheyenne. Cheyenne had the confidence of a child three times her age and Luke, timid and reserved,  but in that 1st grade class they needed each other. Or maybe Luke needed her and she recognized it. However it came about, I was so grateful for both of the new found friendships in our lives. We continued to get to know one another and over a few years developed a comfortable and close bond.  After some time,  her kids went to a different school and we saw each other less but she always remained one of my favorite people.

I also remember vivdly the day her older child, Shawnee, 13 at the time, died in a car accident. I was watching the 11:00 news when I heard the anchorman  say Alice's street name. I turned and watched with horror,  agonizing about  what to do and how this could have happened? I called a friend and she confirmed the tragedy.  Sick with grief for my sweet friend, I lay awake the whole night in pain for this precious family I had come to love.

I watched Alice over the next days, months and now years do some remarkable things with her immense grief.  She and her husband have adopted 6 (yes I said 6) children. All of these precious children come from homes that were not good, not giving them what children need to be happy and success in this world.  With the biggest heart I have ever seen, Alice took them in and gave them all that  and so much more. She has remained friends with biological parents and has an "open door" policy about visits and staying in touch, wanting the children to know where they come from. She gives without a thought or any recognition from anyone and love oozes from her when she talks about the joy they bring to her life. She is my hero and I believe, an angel on earth.

During our long conversation I asked her how she does it, having all those little ones to take care of plus Cheyenne, now 18, always remaining calm  and kind. As I write her answer today it brings tears to my eyes, as it did when we were on the phone. She said very simply, "I watched you and Eric. Watched you love them through everything with a calm and gentle heart." 

We don't  always know what we give to one another as friends but Alice and I seem to know exactly what we have shared. As she watched me parent my four, I watched her go through the most tragic and unfair loss imaginable with a grace that few of us could manage under the same circumstances. Every decision she makes is to honor her precious child in heaven and the precious children she has here on earth. I am forever grateful for a most unlikely but extremely cherished gift I got  from God, in my friendship with Alice McGowan.

Traveling home yesterday from our road trip to Homosassa Springs, Mia and I were looking so forward to our daily walk together on East beach. It was a beautiful day, with blue skies and puffy white clouds floating by while sluggishly changing their shape. Starting out she holds my hand, while the dogs romp and sniff everything in their path. We are fascinated by our ever-changing coastline and talk about the transformation since the last time we walked. Mia is an observer, noticing the slightest difference from the day before. 

She lets go of my hand as she explores and always makes her way to her favorite set of dunes. I find my spot on the highest dune, as I too, am an observer, and get comfortable while Mia begins her imaginative and curious adventure.  She runs up and down the dunes, talking quietly to herself, getting completely lost in the fantasy she has created in her mind. I am not included. I do not have a part in the story, so I sit and watch the dogs, or the waves and pretend as though I am not listening. I don't know how much longer she will do her own pretending so I soak it all in, willing myself to remember everything about my littlest child.

She stops long enough to look at a little worm I show her in the sand. Happily says she has seen one before and greets the tiny white caterpillar like a long lost friend. Mia treats all creatures with an equal and sincere respect, whether it is a human or an insignificant little worm. Just one of the many things I love about her.

After she helps the worm make its way around the dogs and out of danger, she continues in the land of make believe and I lie back in the warm, white, sandy dunes. My mind wonders to places that would have worried me at one time. Now, as I get older and grow in my relationship with God, I believe that all things really do happen for a reason. Allowing Him to be the pilot of my travels, trusting in His love for me, I am able to ponder without fear. That is not to say that I don't worry about my children, or money, or our health as we age, I do. But my faith is my "safety net" and my belief brings confidence. With all of the trials our world throws at us, I am so grateful to have this belief. It works for me! 

So very thankful as well to have this time with my littlest love, noticing almost daily her changing into the young woman I know she soon will be. For now, I will be content to walk the beach holding hands and finding the magic in everything she sees.

How did it happen? 
I'm not really sure when. 
My little boys that I cherish, have turned into men. 

No longer do they need me in the same way, 
no longer tucking them in at the end of the day.

Smart and funny, caring and kind. 
My life before them seems far from my mind. 

I see them moving on to lives of their own 
and  ponder with sadness how the years, they have flown. 

Many traits I see in them they got from their dad, 
a man of great character, for that I am glad. 

Both on their way to many great things 
and we watch with such interest just what that life brings.

Wishing time moved more slowly would be such a plus, 
because we thank God everyday for the boys He gave us!
                               
                                                     




























                                           

Okay, I'll admit it, I don't venture very far away from my home. I don't see the point and don't feel the need to go much beyond the beautiful Golden Isles. Everything I want and need is right here, except for the occasional trip to Atlanta and Athens to see our families,  I like to stay put. 
A little slice of heaven, Jekyll Island, St. Simons Island, and Sea Island are tucked away, like giant jewels glistening in the sun,  on the coast of Georgia. Southern hospitality is still in place and most people have a smile on their face just knowing how lucky they are to live here. 
I never dreamed of loving a particular place, an area of the country, as much as I love this area. I am reminded of a line from one of my favorite movies, "The Big Chill". Kevin Kline's character is upset with William Hurt's character and he is explaining how he feels about the little community he lives in. He says to him " I love this town. This is my home. I'm dug in." That says it perfectly for me. 
What makes it so special to so many? The list is pretty simple. The obvious things that continue to bring contentment to me on a daily basis, even after twenty years, are the beach, the sun, the marsh, the trees, the boats and the abundant nature. But there is more. There is a sense of peace and tranquility that I have never been able to replicate anywhere else. I see people come and go on vacation here through the summer and remember a time when that was us. Vacationing here whenever we got a long weekend or many summers renting a place for a month,  it became clear to us, this is where we wanted to be. Once we made the move, I never looked back, it felt like home. I am thankful everyday of my life to live in a place that I love,  that brings me happiness every time I look around at the beauty of it all. I guess I would have to say with great pride, "I'm dug in. "

It was blue with a yellow top. It had her little baby teeth marks all over the part where she put her mouth to drink. She used it more for comfort, like a  cherished soft blankie, then for something to help her drink without spilling. She carried it around in her chubby little hands, sometimes without a drop of liquid in it. Just like her brothers carried their blankets and her sister carried an old stuffed ET doll, she carried the tiny plastic cup. I didn't even remember we still had it. She was ten years old and hadn't needed a sippy cup for along time. But there it was, in the bottom of a box I was unpacking after we moved. The box had been sitting on a shelf in our garage and one day I thought it was time I get after it. Time to either put things away or donate.
Looking at it closely, trying to decide whether or not it was in good enough shape to save, I was flooded with memories of all four of my children when they were little, like an unexpected strong wave at the beach. 
Our children are spread out over several years, so there have been many years of small children stages. Sippy cups were something we had a lot of. Making travel and mealtime just a bit easier, without having to clean up the mess of an inevitable spill. I thought to myself, I must have thrown many sippy cups away through the years. Why had this one been spared? I knew the answer right away. It was because of what that last little cup signified. The incredible, magical, precious baby years were over for us. Those fear- filled, tear- filled, beyond love- filled years, when our children were our entire world, were in our past. Our children were growing up. At some point I must have made the decision to keep that cup, even if packed away in a box, like it was symbol of a different time in our lives. Our youngest being ten and with 3 siblings much older,  this puts us at very different stages in our lives. Proud of who each one is becoming, they continue to fill us with unimaginable love and joy. But as I looked at the little blue and yellow cup, with a longing for her to be little just one more day, I carefully put it in the back of the cabinet  to revisit another day, instead of throwing it away.

My dad delivered  a very special gift to me the last time he visited.  He brought me my grandmother's recipe boxes. Sometimes the simplest gesture becomes our greatest treasures. These recipes were exactly that for me. It was such a kind thing for him to do and I felt truly honored to have the little alphabetized index cards with her magical ingredients on them.
After they left, I started to go through the boxes. Having loved her cooking, I was certain I would find something to make that very day! Surprisingly, I found myself not so much looking at the ingredients, but staring at her handwriting. As my Grammie got older, she and I wrote a lot of letters to one another. Looking at her handwriting flooded me with special memories of a grandmother I adored but had tucked away in my mind for another day. That day was here and although I was sad she is no longer here with me on earth,  I found she is still so very much alive in my heart.
I remember vividly sitting in her kitchen while she cooked for us. It smelled so delicious and she catered to everyone, making sure we all had whatever we wanted. She involved us in preparing the meals or snacks  and I am sure that started my love of cooking and being in the kitchen with my family. 
She was a tiny woman, only 4'11", and she always smelled of Avon Skin So Soft. It is one of my favorite scents to this day. I sometimes slept in her bed and I would listen to her praying very quietly to herself before falling asleep. I remember riding in her giant Cadillac to go get her hair done. I remember her laughter and how she sometimes teared up if something struck her as particularly funny. So very sweet and special to me. 
I am using her recipes now just like she did all those years ago. Each time I do, I see her smile, I hear her laugh and every now and then, I can smell, very faintly, Avon Skin So Soft. 
Thank you Dad for the recipes, but more importantly the memories that came along with them. Thank you Grammie, for all of the special times and for loving us so much!

Mia found a little hermit crab as she walked beside the sea, carrying him so gently while she walked along with me.

She introduced him to both dogs, though they didn't seem to care, just giving him a sniff and a funny little stare.

When I said, "Come on, it's time to go, you've got to put him back." She kissed him on his wiggly claws and this is what she said, "I pray you have a wonderful life, you and your family, and if you meet another human, I hope they love you just like me."

I write things down so I won't forget the time they spend with me because children grow up way too fast, even by the sea.