I checked my archives a half dozen times and then it finally hit me. I didn’t post about it because it happened six months before I started my blog! And that’s that! In truth, I could never narrow down my best vacation itself, but memories are another story. There’s Alaska for our honeymoon and seeing two moose literally the minute we stepped out into the evening air from the airport. How does that happen? There were childhoods spent in beach town condos.
There’s been every summery long weekend in Truro, Cape Cod, and every summery winter weekend in St. Augustine, Florida. I have the same set of beachy loving in-laws to thank for all of those memories. By now, they all combine into sand and sea and wind and sun and beach naps.
Of course there was the first time I went to California on a JetBlue flight, right after they had started operating, in fact. I had met Cassidy only a week or so earlier in New York (and Massachusetts and New Hampshire and Maine), but I had these plane tickets already booked because it was my dream place. I fell in love with California – San Francisco and Monterey and everywhere in between – plus whales and dolphins and sharks and one dead red thing. Plus the worst sunburn/windburn of my life. There’s one other vacation that stands out the most for me.
San Francisco: My Best Vacation Memory:
Like I said, it’s hard to narrow down vacations because they’re outstanding in their own beautiful ways. For me, it’s about not wanting to go home at the end. I’ve always been homesick and slightly or majorly anxious and tender-hearted that sometimes even when an experience is big and wonderful and life-altering and epic, I am disoriented or uncomfortable. Or gassy. Or something. It’s not my best trait but I’m somewhere in the middle of an adventurer and a homebody. I just never know which part of me will come out. The glacier climber or the crier?
The fear or the strength. Many of us are somewhere in between but the way I toggle back and forth between wanderlust and fear is just strange. It’s also strange that the best vacation memory took place somewhere that I LIVED! I didn’t live there anymore, though. It was a vacation. The trip was exactly a year to the day after we had left San Francisco to move east.
We were attending a friend’s wedding and it was also a reunion with the city we both loved after a year apart. AND, we had a newborn baby girl this time! Gosh, the feels. We went to all of our favorite haunts and restaurants and grocery stores and work places – all with an infant in tow. The best were the people who didn’t even know we had had a baby. What a difference a year makes! When you walk in and see their faces and they see yours, and then see your baby!
Many of these people silently slipped out of our worlds, and some silently slipped out of THE world, and are gone forever. That trip a year later was nowhere near idyllic. Some of the people we had loved so much were already gone – from cancer or car accidents. Scarlet had a fresh dog bite injury, and my old workplace was on its way out. That’s why THIS was the perfect trip.
I remember wearing a cute little dress to the wedding we were attending, and Cassidy’s friend Jennie saying, “Your boobs look big and fab!” And they did. Everything is bigger in California. Just kidding – it was the round-the-clock breastfeeding, I’m sure. I’ll take that one, though.
I haven’t been back there in nearly nine years but I dream and think about it daily. That’s the place the sun shines in that way like it’s shining just on you – in all of my memories and beyond.
Today I’m linking up with Finish The Sentence Friday. This week’s topic is “My Best Vacation Memory.” Come link up with your spin: HERE. What’s your best vacation memory to share?