Some things carry over from one day to the next. Today as I see more and more friends loading their cars and heading to the mainland, I am thankful that we had such a great time together this summer. Of course, for some of us it is not over. But, that really is not the point. It will not be over for me until I get our two boats safely stored at the marina. That is some time off. I always put off putting the toys away until it is too cold to be on the water. It will be a while before it is that cold.
Anyway, most of the early morning has been spent saying farewells to old friends and new friends. Actually, two couples decided to keep their cottages open for another month or so. We will still have cribbage partners for another little while.
But, I am also a little saddened as some of the people leave. Maybe it’s my age, but sometimes when you see an old friend you know it will be for the last time. Oh, I’m not being morbid or anything like that. Maybe I’m just on the border of senility. As I have waved farewell to some of our newer acquaintances, I know we will probably never meet again. It’s one of the odd things about life.
When I was younger I always thought that somewhere at sometime in the future I would run into those kids I had spent my summers with. Of course, some of them lived so far away — and it was long before the Internet and email or cell phones and a small world — but I always had grand ideas that we would end up at the same university or maybe hold onto a relationship that was more fleeting than the two weeks we had known one another.
I can remember some of the boys I “dated” during the summers when I was younger. They would be on holiday at the beach for a couple of weeks. We would fall in love, but the ocean and the beach causes people to do that. Surely, the readers know that I am aware that it was not real love, but teenage infatuation. I often wondered how it affected the ones who did the coming and going. Some wrote letters for a while, but usually by the time the first letter arrived a new family had taken up two weeks residence in the cottage they had inhabited and there was a new infatuation. When you live at the beach with so much going on, good times and relationships come an go about as often as the tide ebbs.
Don’t get me wrong, I made lots of lasting friendships with those who visited our island, but the closeness dissipated over time. It’s hard to stay close when people live in different worlds. We still enjoy a lunch together or maybe a day on the boat, but few have stuck as what I consider real friends.
Anyway, as a couple left this morning the woman and her husband paid a visit to our home to give us their phone numbers, mailing address, and email info. We may communicate or correspond a few times, but I know it won’t be a lasting friendship. There is nothing wrong with those people or us, for that matter. But, some people are so willing to get so close in the moment only to be taken away by life and day to day activities later. That makes me a little sad. Geez…. I don’t mean to sound miserable or anything. Some things in life are just facts, based on experience.
Well, for those of us who are still here, about half an island’s worth of population, the probability of our hanging together for life is pretty good. We have maintained our friendships for years and based on that it is expected to continue.
So, today I am most thankful for those people who graced my life for the past few months even if I may forget their names or faces by this time next year. I have pictures and good memories of great evenings spent on the beach or in a restaurant. I always enjoy taking new friends to our old haunts so they can experience more of our lifestyle than a Wyndham Hotel — not that I don’t enjoy stopping by that restaurant for a meal from time to time. Some of those who are leaving today or have left this week have learned how to shag and will probably know what beach music really is, just in case anyone asks. For those memories, I am so very thankful.
*And, by the way, I have not had a bumper sticker on my car that said “Now that you have seen my beach, go home!” since I was 18. Today we welcome everyone and hope they decide to stay.
