Florida, Farewell

We're winding down our two month stint in Belleair Beach, Florida.  During the daily beach walk(s), I've been using these last few days to reflect on our time here.

I suppose the best thing I can say is that we're already signed on to return next year.  The place where we've stayed, a townhouse in a small development called Los Caracoles (the snails) that fronts the Gulf of Mexico, has been, as my sister who is a realtor down here calls a real find.  

(In fact, on a walk the other afternoon, Hank discovered this snail on the property.)

Next year the unit is available for 6 weeks rather than 2 months.  We'll make due.  I can sit on the patio and look out at the Gulf; listen to the waves at night, which have more than once lulled me either to sleep or back to sleep; and in about 73 steps,give or take a few, be on the beach.  We are simultaneously spoiled and blessed.

The time, like the Gulf, ebbs and flows differently depending on what is going on in our lives.  It's like that no matter where you are, right?  I'm hanging on to that a little bit as we put the clean clothes into the suitcase rather than the dresser drawer in preparation for the drive home.  When we're back in Minnesota, our lives will shift from transporting the beach chair down to the shore every afternoon to whatever is spilling into and filling our lives. 

The most significant change upon returning home will be that our house is decidedly more active than when we left.  Our daughter Molly, who is in the process of a divorce, and our grandsons Jackson, 5 1/2, and Beau, nearly 3, are now living with us.  Our house is spacious enough for all of us to live under its one roof.  The joy of family expansion is a magnet calling my name.

While the grandchildren visited us down here, time moved at breakneck speed.  They wake you with a gentle tap nudge or bound onto the bed or a booming, "Hello" and from that moment, all is on fast forward, their bidding.  It is a decided departure from when the spousal unit and dog and I are here by ourselves, which is less like riding a rapid water slide and more like floating on the lazy river.  Both equally enjoy their charms, of which we are pleased to partake. 

Because we were here for a more extended period this year, I needed to find services that I use regularly at home.  I was more than pleasantly satisfied with discovering a terrific acupuncturist and a great stylist who effectively hid the grey.  Last year I tapped into yoga and found a second instructor so I could expand the days of my practice.  I returned to 'my' Publix (the grocery store).  Steadily I memorized the numbers of the television stations I usually watch so I didn't have to hit the guide on the remote every time.  All of this led to a familiarity and comfort and on occasion, I found myself thinking, "I could do this.  I could live here, at least part of the year.  Maybe 6 (months) and 6 (months)."

Then would come the FaceTime call from one or more of the grands and just as quickly, the thought would dissipate.  All one of them had to say was, "When are you coming home, Grandma?" and my heart would melt into that very special puddle reserved for those blessed with grandchildren. 

 Okay.  I'll pack the suitcase.  We'll load up the car.  We'll be home.  Very soon.