We skirt around Charleston, and head towards Surfside Beach, SC, where my mother-in-law's condo is. At this point in the trip there are times when you can see the ocean on the right ride side of the GPS, we're that close to the beach. Just to our right. We've made the trip so many times we don't need the GPS but we like to watch it count down the miles and minutes. Through my MIL's generosity this has become our second home.
My children are happy there. So am I. We have our favorite places to go to. Our favorite putt-putts (we play every day). Our favorite pools. Restaurants. Of course the beach.
We take almost nothing but flip-flops, shorts, swim suits and sweatshirts. We eat pizza, play putt-putt, go to the bookstore, talk about the things we'll do next time (always the same things -- play real golf, take the helicopter ride, go to the state park, kayak, bring our bikes).
The kids take all this happiness and contentment for granted. I'm glad that they do. I'm glad they can.
I used to play this game when J12 was younger. I would compare his life with the way my life was at his age. I would think about traumas I had experienced and that he had not. I would steel myself for the time when really bad things would start happening to him.
Taking my kids to the beach. Seeing them safe and happy and not knowing hell yet. There's not much more I want to give them. I know there's tough stuff coming. None of us avoid it. For the next couple of days everything will seem suspended.
That's enough for now.