Footsteps

At around this time last year, two of my sisters and I flew into Boston for our cousin’s wedding. We hung around Logan International long enough for our uncle to fly in from Florida and then entrusted our lives to my sister Stephanie and streams of strangers with Massachusetts license plates.

 

 The Bride Wore Flip Flops [3:39m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

As navigator, I got a front seat in the rental car and the opportunity to be frightened first as my sister tackled the aggressive traffic. We were headed to Cape Cod. To this day, I have no real sense of the distance involved; only that the preceding plane ride was much shorter and minus the sudden brake slams. One of those “it’ll bond ya or break ya” experiences…

Stephanie displayed the heart of a Bostonian driver -impressive for a Midwest native- but when she almost clipped a garbage truck that didn’t really care that she had the right-of-way, Kathleen and I took refuge in our cell phones. I texted her a photo of Steph hunched over the wheel. She shot back the terrified faces of the back seat passengers. I sent her a serene self portrait, leaning out the car window, my hair blowing in the smoggy wind. We were totally and unapologetically obnoxious, but it made the trip go a lot faster. Well, for us it did; probably not the case for Steph who could only endure my “smile!” admonishments with no real retaliation capabilities. Wish I’d gotten some video too…

My extended family’s get-togethers had been relegated to funerals the past few years, so the chance to celebrate together was especially sweet. -And to “play” in someone else’s town is truly a vacation. There’s something about being within someone’s created living space that brings their essence added dimension: the funny books in cousin Holly’s guest bathroom; the vision of “home” that my cousin Spencer and his wife are bringing to life; the eclectic yet graceful gathering of found and created treasures my Aunt Sue displays as living art in her home. I found myself inspired and renewed at every turn that weekend.

The bride-to-be talked us into an Atlantic dip. Hot sand. Frigid sea. A sensory contrast that blasted my breath right out of me… Laura and I walked the beach and caught up on her new life, stopping to add to a couple of the beach sculptures created with “found objects” by passers-by. I felt very much enfolded in the “artistic” that whole weekend. From the sea glass artfully strewn across the top of my aunt’s patio table to the sand patterns on the beach… Renewing. Refreshing…

The wedding took place on a sandy bluff overlooking the vast Atlantic.

The Beachcomber on Cahoon Hollow beach is a Cape Cod landmark. Live entertainment and an incredible menu make it the summer hang-out for beachgoers on the Cape. We just call it Todd and Holly’s place.

Hang-gliders swept the sky to the south of the wedding party. Laura wore flip flops and added a denim jacket over her wedding dress when the chill of autumn bit in. Mark’s brother officiated; their kids shared words and music as their attendants. The sea sparkled as we wiggled our toes in warm sand. I love beach weddings.

We reminisced about that wonderful weekend for weeks afterward, promising ourselves to get together more frequently because it’s always so much fun!!!! Holly and my Aunt Sue have been here to Columbus a couple of times since. We talked about getting together this past summer, but schedules intruded. We’ll keep trying, I hope.

Seems silly that “life” so often gets in the way of Life…

“Happy Anniversary Mark and Laura!”

Tags: Better to Laugh..., Heart-to-Heart, Massachussetts, Seascapes by Heather Dugan
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In my view, everyone needs an Amanda. I’ve known mine since she was a dimpled two-year old, some five years before I had any children of my own.

 

 Amanda [4:27m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

Our “connection” materialized around Amanda’s fourth year, when her grandma informed me that she’d gotten her hair cut to match mine. That’s a significant compliment amongst us women! In subsequent years, our lives intertwined in multiple and ever-growing ways. Church choirs, dramas…she was a dedicated participant in all of my varied endeavors, and I became an eye witness to her transformation from precocious child to perceptive young woman.

In later years, she became the favored babysitter for my three children, “big sister” to my only daughter, and eventually, my grown-up friend.

As I rallied my nerves for my first extended driving trip with my three kids, I quite naturally invited Amanda along. She could be my back-up driver, another semi-adult (not sure if I’m including myself in that same category), and allow me to have one-on-one time with my oldest boy who doubled as babysitter for his siblings when necessary.

I have occasional driving issues on long hauls. Sitting still and focusing on the same tedious pursuit for any length of time are significant challenges for me. When paired with my tendency to drive at the speed limit and my aversion to passing cars on two-lane roads, long drives often edge into “grueling”. I’m an enthusiastic passenger, but knowing that I’m responsible for a car-load of favorite people kind of eliminates any sight-seeing for me as “driver” (“Quick kids, describe the vista off the edge of this mountain”)! I become a driving machine in dire need of a few out-of-production parts. I figured Amanda would take the edge off…

The bonding element of car confinement has resulted in many “Amanda” stories, of course. It was quite enjoyable sharing them with her new husband Brian last year. He was still a “fiance” then, so I took it easy on her. But, I did let him know that her navigation skills led us on one of the most circuitous routes through Ohio and on down to Florida. Amanda blames our extreme hunger and subsequent focus on food. Whatever the reason, we traveled the eastern perimeter of Ohio instead of taking the direct route. I would have/ should have noticed sooner but was gamely attempting to keep with the traffic flow. And, may I please point out that Amanda was the official navigator and “keeper of the map”? We weren’t about to turn around and retrace our wasted miles, so we deemed it an unexpected “adventure”, and rolled on by the lazy little river towns until Amanda goaded me into passing the clunkers that were keeping us well under the posted speed limits. That night, we considered it a victory just to sleep just outside of the state we’d started from that afternoon. Oh well…

We endured a rain storm that felt as if heaven were dumping random tanks of water onto the hood of my truck. We instinctively ducked as jets roared just overhead while we sat, deadlocked in traffic within a very popular approach path to the Atlanta airport. My seatbelt felt more akin to a strait jacket as Amanda had me listen to “Stairway to Heaven” on her Ipod again and again (and again).

Amanda is the only person I’ve ever met who can nonchalantly order a cheeseburger, “hold the burger”… That always made me laugh. A lot. But, as she wasn’t my actual kid, I couldn’t make her wear enough sunscreen. I could only nag a little and then take embarrassing and incriminating photos when she began to glow on the beach. Amanda was the one who finally figured out why everyone kept stepping on the back of my flip flops. She said my enthusiasm would lead me to launch ahead of the group, but when I immediately realized that I’d done it yet again, my abrupt slow-down would put my foot directly in the path of someone racing to keep up with me. I was awfully glad to get that one solved…

After her wedding last spring, she road-tripped to Virginia Beach with her new (wonderful) husband Brian. I got a few updates on the journey but knew that an era had passed. We still talk or at least leave voice-mails for each other most days; well, more accurately, I leave the lengthy messages and she just hangs up, knowing I’ll spot her number and call her back.

I had the honor of photographing her wedding last spring. Good thing for her… I also have some equally great photos of what happens when you don’t wear your sunscreen…

Tags: 1 Adult/3 Children, Better to Laugh..., Florida, Heart-to-Heart by Heather Dugan
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