Beach Houses

I had a strong desire to take a walk tonight, to be alone for a while, to enjoy the brisk air, and to get lost in thought. So I threw on a pair of baggy sweatpants and an extra large Texas Longhorn's sweatshirt and left my house through the back door.

As I walked along the quiet board walk taking in all the smells, sights, and sounds of summer I was brought back to four weeks from four separate, yet unforgettable, summers.

These four weeks are significant on their own but hold so much in common. Four weeks spent at a beach house in Newport Beach. Four weeks with 6 kids to one bedroom (and one where we slept on the floor in the living room). Four weeks spent with my second family and my parents best friends. Four weeks of laughter, tears, arguments, and memories.

The smell of bonfires, sea salt, cigars, and sunscreen...

The sight of four girls standing on a cement wall, the sun setting behind the clouds, people riding by on bikes, and young boys running after screaming girls...

The sounds of waves crashing, middle aged men slurring their words, children laughing, and music blaring from beach front houses...

...brought me back to...

1. The summer Amanda and I had a theme for every day of the week, where I was saved by not only 1 but 2 lifeguards for reasons unclear to me, where we shopped for jr. high school uniforms at fashion valley, acted like bums on the boardwalk, and consumed ravens revenge like cocaine addicts.

2. The summer we settled for a 2 room condo for 10 people, where my sister froze all my underwear, Amanda gave everyone a nickname, and my dad explained the history of the F word to me on our way to get coffee.

3. The summer that I was kissed for the first time by the boy who would later say "I love you, Taylor" while lying next to me on my driveway the night after I had my wisdom teeth pulled, and fell asleep holding his hand while watching Night at the Roxbury.

4. The last summer... the summer we called it quits. The summer our families grew apart and retired our tradition. The summer I have a hard time remembering.

I rounded the parking lot down by the jetty with a smile on my face staring at the families making s'mores, playing volleyball, and packing up for the night. I thought about my own family and how different our summers are now. My sister is reveling in new found freedom, one brother is off in the bay area, while the other is still living at home, and my parents hardly have a summer at all.

I am, well... I am reliving those four summers but without the 9 people who made them complete. I am reliving those four summers with different people who make this summer complete in an entirely new way.

There is love, hours spent at the beach, movies watched, games played, alcohol consumed, and memories made but on an entirely different level.

Those four summers are no better or worse than this summer, they are simply different.

I hadn't missed home until tonight. And although I miss home, my family, and those summers, I am glad I have the present to remind me of the past.