Beach Bum

I was probably in my 40s when I learned that some people aren't "beach people." I had no idea that there are people who don't like the sand, surf, salt and sun. I'm a southern girl who has spent more time on beaches than any other vacation locale.

Rehoboth Beach, Delaware (1970 - 1977)

When I was a child in Northern Virginia, my family used to beach vacay at Rehoboth Beach, Delaware. I was really young, and don't remember a lot of details. I remember there was a giant dune of sand. The parking was on one side and the bathrooms & concessions were at the peak, then you walked all the way down in hot sand to get to the beach. I remember my dad wore rubber shower flip-flops.

We had no sunscreen back then. Dads would haul giant, heavy beach umbrellas. Moms toted towels and picnic baskets with sandwiches. The kids carried their pails and shovels for collecting shells. If we started to sunburn, our moms put t-shirts on us. A wet t-shirt has an SPF of 7, by the way.

Virginia Beach, Virginia (1977 - 1978)

My schoolmates went to the beach all up and down the eastern coastline - New Jersey; Rehoboth; Ocean City, Maryland; Virginia Beach. My best friend Lisa's family were Virginia Beachers. They rented what we called a beach house but was nothing like the McMansions we've come to associate with that word. It was a two-story flat a couple blocks from the beach and they rented the top floor for two weeks every summer. Lisa was an only child and they took me with them two summers in a row (1977-78). Those were some happy days of running free and building core childhood memories. We were pre-social media pre-teens, in a time when it was safe to just wander the vacation area alone. And the one thing I remember above all else? We did it BAREFOOT! Walking the streets leading from our beach house to the beach, stopping periodically to pull the broken glass bits out of our feet.

Long Beach, Mississippi (1977 - 1984)

In 1977, my family moved from Northern Virginia to the Mississippi Gulf Coast. We now lived in a coastal town. But it was much different than the eastern beaches of my youthful vacays. We moved in October and in November Mom took us to the beach to take pictures for our family Christmas card. Mom couldn't wait to brag to friends and family that we lived at the beach. And yes, you absolutely can be on the Mississippi beach in shorts in November.

But the beach there in the Mississippi Sound of the Gulf of Mexico was a far cry from the east coast Atlantic. The water was shallow, warm, and stagnant. The beach of my teen years was more about weekend bonfires, boating and fishing. Shorts and t-shirts, as opposed to swimsuits.

That's not to say that we didn't bake ourselves in the sun when we were teens. It's horrifying really. We would slather ourselves in baby oil and put Sun-In in our hair lay out in the sand, or maybe at someone's pool. But we never got in the water at that beach.

It's been 40 years, and I still say that the best thing about going to high school in Long Beach was that we could always find a party on the beach. Somebody was always having a bonfire for something. We had this group of guys who would drive around Long Beach after Christmas and pick up Christmas trees from the curb and then throw a giant bonfire on the beach with all of them.

The flare-up was huge because the needles were so dry, but then the giant circumference of red-hot ambers would burn for literally days. One time, Dawn Cooper's contacts melted to her eyeballs from sitting too close to the Christmas Tree bonfire.

Gulf Shores, Alabama (1982)

When I was 15, I spent my summer babysitting two young girls in Gulfport. They were adorable and I absolutely adored them and their family. One Saturday, their dad - who was probably the coolest dad I knew at the time - took us on a day trip to Gulf Shores, Alabama (1982). And color me surprised to realize that not all Gulf Coast beaches were like Mississippi's. Barrier islands that kept the Mississippi Sound from freely circulating were apparently only in Mississippi?! The Alabama beach had surf! That was a really fun day.

South Padre Island, Texas (1989)

I moved to Memphis in 1986 and didn't go to the beach for a couple of years. Then I followed my boyfriend to Corpus Christi, Texas, and went to work waiting tables at an open-air seafood restaurant on South Padre Island. My boyfriend & I were eating there one evening in late May and I asked for an application. He asked our server, "I don't see any woman waiting tables here...?" and the guy said, "Yeah...they don't like to sweat."

But I had missed the beach and went to work there with all my giant curly 80s hair and loved every minute of it until the season was over.

Destin, Florida (1994 - 2011)

When that relationship ended, I came back to Memphis, where I met my husband. The first summer after we had Eli, he planned us a Destin, Florida, beach vacay (1994). I fully intended to take the baby to the beach with us, but his dad was equally as determined that we would NOT.

"It won't be a vacation for you if you have to take care of the baby," he said.

And goodness knows this new mom needed a vacation.

So Grandma stayed at our house with Eli while Mom and Dad had a week in Destin.

The day we got there, I laid out at the condo pool (slathered in Hawaiian Tropics). Come lunch time, all the moms took their babies upstairs and disappeared for nap time. And I laid there smug in my happiness.

In the 20 years that followed, our beach vacay got bigger and better. In the 90s, if you traveled for work - as Chip did - you could rack up a lot of hotel points. We spent a week every summer at the Sandestin Hilton. When Eli was in high school, we let him bring friends with him - history repeating itself.

My days were spent in beach chairs, under umbrellas, with cocktails and shrimp tacos from the pool-side cafe, all signed to the hotel room. These were absolutely the most favorite moments of my life. If there's a heaven, I hope it is this. I told my family when I'm gone, put my ashes in a SunBum bottle and bury me in the sands at SanDestin.

The summer before Eli's senior year, we rented a beach house in SanDestin and took his whole group of friends to the beach for a week. I hope they created core memories the way Lisa and I did in Virginia Beach.

Pensacola Beach, Florida (2012 - 2021)

With the relo to South Louisiana, Chip went all in for RV vacations rather than hotel stays. Now, I never wanted a camper, but he'd sold me on it with, "We can take the dogs with us!" The prospect of not boarding my babies with strangers convinced me. But it was nowhere near as bougie as SanDestin.

In Pensacola, I had to tote a chair and umbrella to the beach. Luckily the umbrellas are a lot lighter than that giant thing my dad used to haul around Rehoboth. I carried a chair, umbrella and backpack cooler full of snacks & drinks across the highway to the beach.

It's now been several years since I've had a beach vacay - the year Hurricane Ida hit us was the last one we took. Restaurants in Pensacola would ask, "Are you by chance a hurricane refugee?" and we'd say, "YES!" and they'd give us a little discount. Coast folks know how it is. We got each other's backs.

Cape Cod, Massachusetts (2024)

This year I have a beach vacay planned for August, and it's going to be a completely new beach experience, unlike Delaware, Mississippi, Alabama, Texas or Florida. I'm going to Cape Cod. I have a first cousin on my dad's side who lives outside Boston. We've never spent any time together, as Marian had married and moved away by the time I came around. But we've connected online and have shared lots of family memories and jokes that way.

Marian's daughter, Suzanne, a very successful realtor in Bedford, is married and has two kids. They have a cottage on Mashnee Island. Marian, my sister and I are renting a cottage across the street from Suzanne's for a week. The high there in August is 80 degrees. I've never been to a beach that wasn't baking under a brutal sun. Or one that boasted "cottages" for that matter.

I plan to wear linen and a big sun hat and explore the Cape and eat lobstah rolls every day. Maybe Suzanne's husband will take us out on his boat. Maybe we can wear sweaters and have a bonfire on the beach!

Vacations don't come as often now that I'm on my own. But they come with a lot of thoughtful planning and deep meaning. I'm so grateful my sister and I will have this time to connect with my dad's side of the family that we never knew growing up. This is a moment of a lifetime, and I hope to make memories that will last forever.