Nauset Light – Photo: trip advisor.com
Vacation Memories
I confess. I’m feeling a little cranky right now.
It’s almost the middle of July and we have no plans for a vacation in the foreseeable future. That fact, in and of itself, is not all that big of a deal for me. It’s not as if I’ve felt a sense of deprivation if we didn’t take a vacation every year – and there have been a decent number of years when we didn’t ‘go anywhere’ or ‘do anything’ of note.
No…
The dissatisfaction underlying my grousing is the distinct lack of an opportunity (either in the recent past or the foreseeable future) to languorously curl up with a good book and just read and read and read and read until I’m not quite sure who I am anymore. Then fall asleep. And then read and read and read some more upon waking.
My fondest memories of summer vacations were days on end spent reading book after book with no agenda but to move on to the next one.
Summers on Cape Cod
I was lucky enough, being the youngest of five kids, to have parents who, by the time they had me, were able to afford to take quite a lovely vacation. We rented a cottage from family friends near Nauset Light, in North Eastham, Massachusetts. We first started going to this cottage back in 1962 or 1963 – which would mean I was three or four years old – and I’m pretty sure we only stayed a long weekend. Or a week at the most.
It felt perfect to me, although I always, without fail, cried a bit when vacation would end (regardless of how long it had been), when I ‘had to say goodbye to the ocean.’
The Cliff
One of the most remarkable memories from those earliest of years is how the cottage was situated only yards from the edge of the sandy cliff that plunged – 80 feet? – down to the beach. Someone had affixed a rope to a spike at the top to help people climb up the cliff from the beach (a reality that would cause environmentalists nowadays to blanch).
Anyway, as a little kid, I remember easily scampering up the cliff without the aid of the knotted rope.
Another absolutely precious memory from those vacations (which extended right up to and beyond when I was 21 and went to that same cottage with Karl on our honeymoon), was Nauset Light. (Believe it or not, this is the very same light that is featured on all the bags of Cape Cod Potato Chips.)
Photo: Sandboard.com
Nauset Light
Back when we first started spending time at the Cape, every dusk, the light would come on. It would blink three times, then a ‘pause’ would occur as the lights rotated around, and then another three blinks…over and over again. The rhythm of the light was wonderfully reassuring, especially since my mother called it the “I – love – you” light.
I’m sure she started the tradition of watching those three strong beams of light gliding steadily and relentlessly out across the waves, one-two-three, then sweeping across the tops of the pine trees behind the cottage, and began the tradition of saying, “I…love…you!” while sitting with me. She soon extended that delightful while holding my nieces, as they gradually came upon the scene three and then four years later.
It became a maternal tradition within our family, whenever a baby or toddler would cry or become anxious in the middle of the night, to stand outside in the fragrant sea breeze, baby on hip, swaying in that way that just happens, listening to the waves of the Atlantic crashing on the shore. And we would wait for it, wait for it… then blink! Blink! Blink!
“I. Love. YOU!” Chortles of delight eventually gave way to murmured repeats of the affectionate declaration, then slowly, slowly eyelids would reluctantly close.
Reading
Finally. Before I took this meander down memory lane, I began this post thinking about the absolute indulgence of reading my fill of book after book while spending time at the Cape. Now I’m filled with memories of my mom. From my love of reading to the I Love You light, I miss her so much.
I can’t remember the last time I just had days stretched out before me when I could read to my heart’s content and not feel the pull to pay attention to anyone or anything other than what the next chapter might reveal. What a luxury. What an opportunity for indulgence in one of my favorite pastimes.
I wonder if I’ll ever experience that again.
Tasty memories – Photo: L. Weikel
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