Beach, Boardwalk and Memories

I don’t know about people who didn’t grow up without the East Coast, or any coast but my childhood included the beach, the boardwalk, and memories. I don’t remember any specific memories, I just remember having fun, being happy and spending time with my family, and the other neighbor family that we spent a lot of time with.
My mom told me I hated the sand on the beach. I wouldn’t move off the blanket and I wouldn’t touch the sand. When I did, I would scrunch up my face like a baby that just tasted a lemon. I did the same thing with soft grass at home! I love the sand now, I love what it does to my feet. I love how it seems to erase the icky feeling and makes me feel free, maybe that’s because I am barefoot, but the sand is a free pedicure. As long as the hotel doesn’t mind me bringing it in, neither do I.
I remember all the games, lights, sounds, prizes, food and best of all the rides, of the boardwalk! I don’t remember all the walking! Maybe I was in a stroller? Or on my dad’s shoulders? I remember pizza, ice cream, cotton candy, popcorn… I remember when my older brother begged my parents to go on the salt and pepper shakers (a ride that is extremely high, you get strapped in and get shaken up and down, hence, salt and pepper shakers) and promised he wouldn’t throw up, yup, he did. They were crazy! How could you not? I mean, eat all that good food, get thrown and tossed in the air, get shaken up and down repeatedly and NOT throw up? It was a recipe for disaster.
Right now I am sitting in a darkened hotel room with my wonderful husband sleeping away from today’s beach walk (easily 10K steps), boardwalk food and general beach day, typing away on my laptop wondering why and what makes me love this place so much when my knees are aching, my tummy is full and I can’t sleep. Oh, and my back hurts because I miss my mattress at home with only one pillow here and a rolled up beach towel pretending to be a pillow. It can’t be the long walk to the water, the boardwalk walk with the crowd of people, and the constant worry of if my car is ok across the street. It’s looking at the bright colors of the neon lit ferris wheel circling around and around, the late night music coming from the bar downstairs, the smells of fresh fudge, and the promise of the swim in the ocean tomorrow, oh, and the free pedicure. I wish my mom would come and remember with me more, maybe it would remind her of happier times too.
I am very grateful my parents felt the need to pack us all up, pile us all into the station wagon, save up money, drive down here, and let us experience the times of our lives, to be remembered always. Thanks mom and dad! Thank you for creating these memories for me, I appreciate it always and will never forget. If you can, try and create memories for someone else, they will thank you for it!