"Home”

After what used to be a six hours of driving, our family’s red van crawled down the only road that I ever called “home”. The first step in the house was the most cherished. One could always smell the reminisces of grandma’s cooking that spoiled the air. Shortly after arriving my sister and I would always stride to the end of the dock and just sit, sometimes for hours. Just taking in everything God had to offer. We would watch the wet paint drip from the sky only to smear the perfect sunset. The white swans would peacefully glide across the bay like water ripples on a calm day. Ducks by the number would make their way over to us from the island that formed to the right of our house. Across the bay there was a beach and we would watch the little kids and their moms pack up for dinner and migrate home. I can remember the young boys throwing sand at their moms in procrastination. I remember those moments when I was little and how I treated my mother when she would have to drag me home. The beach over the years though has become my Eden Nothing could go wrong and it never did. Although the thin soft sand in my bathing-suit every now and then was reasonable reason to go home and change (but that was always about it).
Eventually seven o'clock rolled around and Jillian and I would prepare for the night. Preparation for the night” was not the same as up north. Hot water was scarce down the shore and with six people or more in a three-bedroom house, showering was limited. A simple wash down of shampoo and soap was all that was permitted. No time to shave and such. No time to sing. No nothing, just in and out. After about an hour the two of us were ready, which was pretty impressive considering all we had to do. Walking out of the house with our hair entangled in a bun, large sweatshirts covering our bodies and a cheap pair of shorts was all we really needed. No one really got dressed up dow there. People did as they please and no one tried to impress anyone (which was great!).
A few houses down from ours stood a large yellow house. My best friend David lived there. David and I had been best friends since we were babies He was that guy that I could always count on for anything. He was a tall, goofy, sophisticated kid that everyone loved. He could get any crowd laughing. Well anyways, once we got David the three of us than would go down a few more houses and pickup our other good friend Gina. Gina, well now she is tall. She stands 6’2. So she basically towers over us all. From there we would walk everywhere. Some people would think that that sucks having to walk everywhere, but down the shore that is all anyone ever did. And had we ever needed to go into Sea Side we would take a taxi, but otherwise we walked everywhere.
After picking Gina up the four of us walked to the beach. Eventually we were there and we just sat there waiting for the night to unravel. Every night something new would happen. Either we would end up walking down to the boardwalk, which was visible from where we sat. Or sometimes (and by sometimes I mean most times) we would just sit up at the tope of the beach and drink. But whatever ended up happening I can assure you it was not boring, because New Jersey was an eventful place and we were always going to live that idea.