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Life Is a Beach

We got home from Aruba last night and not a moment too soon to watch all the shows I had tivoed. My plan was to unpack immediately but “Desperate Housewives”and “Medium” was calling to me, similar to the way Jimmy would say,

“That Rocky Road ice-cream is singing my name. I can’t ignore it. That would be rude.”

It was good for us to be together and begin to feel complete as a family. Skylar was the star, enthusiastic about EVERYTHING…the beach, the pool, her sand toys, the casino (okay, that was me)

Being on vacation brought back memories of other vacations. In Puerto Rico when Doug was Dougie (and sometimes Dougsie-Wougsie) Jimmy and I tried to explain to him that 8 year old little boys aren’t allowed in a casino. Dougie said,

“I’ll just tell them I’m here to play ‘the marble game.'”

We all flew to Vegas when Jackie was 14 and Doug was 10. Fresh off the plane and still in the airport Jackie took a handful of quarters from me and ran over to the row of slot machines. As she began to slip them in an airport Nazi goosestepped over,

“The children must stand 10 feet away from the machines” she said.
I answered, “Then, how can they get the quarters in?”

Watching Sky dig in the sand reminded me a trip to France when Dougie was 11. We were on the beach and he was playing in the sand. I said,

“See, he’s not too big. We should have bought him a pail and shovel.”

Jimmy motioned for me to see that Doug was facing away from the water and staring at a topless woman. His eyes were glued to her chest while his hands unconciously built too huge mounds in the sand.

That was the moment we knew for sure that he’s straight.

I never liked the beach. First you get hot. Then, you get wet and then you end up hot with wet sand sticking to areas that sand is not supposed to be. Jimmy loved it. He could never be too hot. He’d walk outside on the stickiest day and declare,

“What a perfect day!”

Perfect? I could barely breathe. Perfect for a heart attack.

So there we were on the beach sifting sand on Sky’s little feet to hide her toes, letting her dribble sand over ours and then wiggling them free to watch her giggle. All the elements were there to make Jimmy smile. Maybe he was.

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