As time goes by…
As I sit here relaxing at the beautiful Jersey shore watching my youngest son and his friend challenge the waves, I look around and can’t help but reflect upon things. No matter how calm I might be, my mind is always working. That’s the stuff that columns are made of. Besides, I wouldn’t dare close my eyes while they’re in the water, because despite the fact that there are four lifeguards on the shore and two in the water (doing a great job of protecting swimmers, I must add), I feel I have to keep watching my kids at all times to keep them safe.
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It’s not as if I can run into the ocean to save them, because then I’d need saving myself, but I can scream if I must. It’s more of a learned habit that I can’t break no matter how old my kids get. I want to protect them.
But lately I’ve noticed that the tides are changing in my family dynamics. As my youngest one starts to appreciate the newfound independence that comes with being 13 years old, I’m starting to realize I might not be needed as much as I used to be.
I mentioned this to a friend who still has four children at home, and she said, "It’s called being free!"
I guess that’s a good way of looking at it, but as I look around the beach, I see scenes played out time and again that remind me of days gone by. Most obvious to me are the moms and babies with all kinds of paraphernalia to keep baby happy and safe. (Of course, if I were a man observing things at the beach, I’m sure babies wouldn’t be the first thing I would notice, but perfect young bodies in skimpy bikinis are yet another thing in my past.)
Going to the beach wasn’t something I did a lot of as a child unless we were away on vacation. As a teen in New York, I discovered the beach, but rarely went. When I got married and relocated to New Jersey 25 years ago (where has the time gone?), I got a job at a doctor’s office in Manasquan. The doctor spent most of his days with his wife on their boat while I sat alone in the office waiting for the phone to ring. He suggested I check out the beach on my lunch break. I discovered Manasquan and Point Pleasant Beach and I fell in love. I hadn’t realized until then that we are lucky enough to live so close to a vacation destination, and I’ve always found that to be so cool. We can go anytime we want to and feel as if we are on vacation.
When I had my first child 22 years ago, a friend brought me to Belmar and taught me some tricks to make beachgoing with children easier. For instance, always bring baby powder. Shaking it on sandy skin and wiping it with a towel makes the sand come right off (and it smells so nice, too!) It’s also good for grown-ups.
I also discovered that whatever is in diapers can absorb a good amount of the Atlantic Ocean and make a small child so bottom-heavy that it is hard for him to stand up. Some parents opted for no diaper in the ocean (not me). It seemed that the water was always warmer around those kids for some reason.
As the number of children in my family increased, so did the number of items I had to bring to the beach. There was a reclining beach chair, shovels, pails, balls, juice boxes and holders, Cheerios, pretzels, chips, towels, a large sheet to sit on, dry clothes, a lot of sunscreen, sunglasses, diapers, umbrella and even a portable playpen. I always brought a book to read, which never got read. Of course, just as we settled everyone in, someone had to go to the bathroom (usually me).
Another friend introduced me to Avon by the Sea because that town has beach wheelchairs available to accommodate her handicapped son. I fell in love with that beach and with having lunch at the Avon pavilion and getting the kids ice cream.
Actually, I’ve been to many beaches in the area and find something to love about them all. There’s just something about the Jersey shore that says "summer." And for me it’s not summer until we go to Point Pleasant and Avon.
My husband, the couch potato, even loves walking on the boardwalk at Belmar with me all year. He makes good time walking to the Shark River inlet to see the bridge open and the boats pass through, and then finds motivation to make it back by focusing on the Dunkin’ Donuts sign (and what’s waiting inside) in the distance.
As the kids grew older, diapers gave way to boogie boards, snorkel masks and fins, surfing shirts, giant shovels and spades, and lots of holes in the sand – some with heads sticking out.
Now that my two older sons have become men who no longer rely on me for rides to the places they want to visit, our beach time together seems to have ended. My youngest still loves to go to our favorite spots, but only if he can take a friend along.
So last week, after working for hours at home on an article, I decided I needed a change of scenery on a beautiful day.
Since none of my family members or friends were available, I picked myself up, packed up my own stuff (a mere sheet, sunscreen and laptop to complete my work), and got to know someone I haven’t given much attention to in years – me. I had a couple of hours to kill before picking up the only one in the family who can’t drive yet, so I went to the beach by myself. I even treated myself to a fat-free, sugar-free, taste-free ice cream cone. Yum!
I used to feel sorry whenever I saw a person eating alone, but I have to say, it was kind of nice.
So now, as I sit and watch the waves slowly erode the beach, I know change is slowly happening around me. I see changes in my own life reflected in those around me – the moms and their babes on the beach, the cute figures of the suntanned young beauties, the young couples holding hands, and the faces of my own son and his friend body surfing and digging in the sand. I know this, too, shall pass, but I enjoy the moment and look forward to the future.
I also look at the older couples strolling along the boardwalk and the tan ladies sitting on the beach reading a book, and get a glimpse of pleasant times that are, hopefully, ahead. I find comfort knowing that no matter what changes the seasons may bring, there is a place I can always count on to bring me peace (the beach), and a person I can always count on to keep me company when no one else is around (me).
Amy Rosen is a staff writer with Greater Media Newspapers.