Countdown to Freedom...

September 2006

Seventeen down, one to go.

For the past seventeen Septembers, I have dutifully and miserably put away the beach chairs, stashed the swim suits, closed the windows and locked the doors to my tiny but beloved shore house, packing up the minivan with kids, three months worth of stuff, a dog and one very grumpy mother at the wheel.

For the past seventeen Septembers, Labor Day has signaled for me and my family the definitive end to summer sun and fun, with the unavoidable call back to school, practices, dance classes and all things “real.” Like a flock of unhappy migratory birds, we’ve returned to our “real” house and “real” lives, every September, watching in the rear view mirror as our oasis from all of that “realness” faded all too quickly from view.

For seventeen glorious summers, I’ve been blessed to be able to recreate our daily existence, transforming it from one of routine mayhem to one of, well, another kind of routine mayhem, but this time with a beach.

When you live at the shore for the summer, you still have to clean the house, grocery shop, do the laundry, and attend to all of life’s more mundane chores and responsibilities, but, boy, is it easier knowing that once you finish mopping the kitchen floor and dropping the kids off at work, there’s a spot on the beach with your name on it.

With the beach for a background, even my most detested mom jobs took on another feel. I loathe grocery shopping, and food stores packed with summer visitors vying for a spot in the checkout line often resemble the expressway at rush hour with carts loaded with rations instead of cars. But a quick trip to a farmer’s market to purchase fresh from the ground fruits and veggies, as well as a cheerful bouquet of summer blooms definitely softens the blow. And then there’s that beach thing again.

However, for many of us, the carefree summer vibe, which somehow makes all of life’s little trials easier to handle, ends abruptly with Labor Day. No easing into it, just Slam! back into the muck. And all of that mellowness becomes a thing of the past.

At least, that’s how it’s been for seventeen years. But my youngest will be a junior in high school this year, and that means that for me, the end is in sight. Mind you, I’m not rushing her out the door or anything, but two Septembers from now, when she is safely packed off to college, I will remain in South Jersey, firmly ensconced until it snows or my husband threatens to divorce me, whichever comes first.

Until then, though, all is far from lost. For while I must return to the mainland from my island getaway along with thousands of other tearyeyed summer guests, life at the shore no longer stops as it once did come September, and countless opportunities for fall, winter and spring fun send out their siren call to keep South Jersey fans flocking to the shore all year long. Atlantic City continues to be a beacon, tempting those in search of off-season fun with first rate entertainment, dining and shopping, along with a boardwalk that always offers magnificent ocean views no matter the time of year. Similarly, faithful followings have encouraged every town along the coast to keep out the Open for Business signs year round.

So, I may be leaving temporarily, but if you happen to spot me in South Jersey multiple times between now and next summer, don’t be surprised. Some things are just too good to pass up.