My uncle very generously offered us to stay at his beach house for a family vacation so Jeff and the kids and I stayed there, my parents stayed with my uncle right behind us and my sister and her three kids stayed at a family friends home next door. It was sort of fun being able to walk back and forth between houses and also at times a little panic ridden. “Where is Faith?” we would suddenly shriek before realizing she was just next door with her cousins.
Instead of feeling like everyone around was too much of a good thing I really enjoyed it and felt sad when my sister and my nephew and nieces had to leave early. I even had a moment of craziness when I thought about keeping her kids for the remainder of the time. Don’t worry. Sanity kicked in at the last minute.
I love history and Savannah and the island are absolutely ridden with it. It’s small time life with charm and soul. It’s slower down there, even slower than here in the mountains. Jeff and I rode bikes past sprawling mansions that once faced the oceans and then past new cottages painted bright colors decorated with twinkle lights. I spent as much time as I could sitting on the front porch reading and just staring off into space breathing the ocean-tainted air and feeling peaceful. James was ever-attached to me as always, but he even seemed more laid back there. We would occasionally ask each other why we didn’t live there always.
We drove into the city of Savannah a couple of times. My grandmother, who Faith is named after, is buried in a cemetery right beside Bonaventure. Who would have thought that wandering a place of the dead could be so enchanting. In a GOOD way that is.
My aunt used to sneak in Bonaventure at night when she was a teenager. Um. No. I could not do that.
I was down there for four days before I remembered that there is such a thing as the internet. We watched very little television, and relied only on books and each other and the town itself for entertainment. It was wonderful.
It was filled with many tiny adventures: the baby squirrel’s life that I saved, the hundreds of starfish that washed up on the beach, Jeff and I going back to “our” restaurant on River Street, taking James to the beach for the first time, celebrating my mother’s birthday, the silly, yet somewhat entertaining ghost tour that ended at the Pirates House where I did get a little freaked out. Most important, and how cliché of me to say, was the time spent with my family, all of us in one spot with just days to plan or not plan and just be there together.
Of course, you can't please everyone.