I grew up on an island called Sanibel, where I spent most of my time at the beach, or in the ocean with my friends. It is one my favorite places, and holds some of my greatest memories, which is what inspired me to write about it. Some of my favorite activities at the beach include walking down the beach having long, meaningful talks with whomever I was with, and spending countless hours in the ocean being thrown around by the waves. The waves and the ocean are as big of a part of the beach for me, as is the sand and the sun. Writing about the times I had at this location, and sharing my memories reminds of the being home, and what I enjoy most about this enjoyable vacation place. I hope that one day I can return to the beach, and get my dream job of teaching and inspiring students on the island where I grew up.

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Table of Contents:

Narrative: 3-16

Nonfiction: 17-24

Poems: 25-31

Personal Narrative

She is anything but a distant, hazy memory. Her passing, although it was two years, seems like it just happened. Her ashes, spread upon the shore, set her soul free. It was a bittersweet moment; watching what was my grandmother, now become one with the waves and sand, knowing she was in a better place, but selfishly still wanting her to be with me. Hearing the crash of the oceans, the whistling of the winds, and feeling the warming sun on your skin. The beach is such a calming and serene place to be. But now, how can go to this place that I love so much, knowing that someone that I love even more was forever gone from my life and placed here? It was a choice that I had to make; and continue to have to make every time I go. I can either avoid the beach due to that sad moment on a dark, gloomy, rainy day, or I can remember the beach the way my grandma did. I chose to remember it as a fun destination that can produce memories that will last a lifetime.

Going to the beach with my grandma when I was young gave me some of the best experiences I have had. Of course the experiences would not still be remembered if those times did not entail a long journey filled with highs and lows, lots of laughter, and some sort of song or quote to be take away from it all.

Every summer my family used to travel up to Ocean City, New Jersey and spend time at my Great Grandma’s house on the shore. All of the family, from all over the states, would travel to meet up together. My family usually chose to travel by car. Five of us, plus the entire luggage, all jammed into one little car to make a twenty-hour journey. Well, it’s supposed to take twenty hours. However, my father likes to make stops about every hour on the road, so it takes way longer than needed. Once we finally arrived it would usually be about 3:00 in the morning or sometime around there. Everyone just brought in the luggage they needed for that night, ran up the steps, and slept wherever there was room. There were too many of us for all the limited amount of rooms and beds that were available, but we all found some place to sleep at night. Some on sofas or recliners, some on blow up mattress, and some on floors. Being so close and cramped with one another was part of the fun. We had long nights and early mornings, but it always worth it.

Being so excited from finally arriving, and having no space made it very difficult to sleep. On average, most everyone there would get an hour or two if they were lucky. A few hours after first arriving, my cousins, Nick and Josh, my sister, Katherine, my brother, Will, my Aunt Kathy, my Great Grandma, my parents, and myself, were up and ready to start the day. The morning conversation always involved coffee and pastries, and revolved around what to do for that day. I am not sure why we even bothered to have a conversation about what to do, considering we always wanted to do the same thing every day we were up there.

The morning would start off by visiting family that lived up north that we did not get to see often. Then, we would return back to the house, change into our bathing suits, and pack up for the beach. We gathered everyone that wanted to go, grabbed the boogie boards, and whatever other toys were wanted for a long day at the beach. After what seemed like hours of waiting for my grandma to come over the house to go with us, (now realizing it was only 20 minutes), we all made the journey to the beach. The beach was relatively close to my great-grandmas house; it was only a couple blocks away. The black tar ground was so hot on our little feet that my siblings, my cousins, and I, all ran there, and waited at the steps where the beach began, for the adults to catch up.

The beaches there are fairly crowded; lots of families who clearly were there to stay the whole day based on how much stuff they brought, and how much room they took up. The water there is freezing, especially for a Florida girl, but that never stopped me from wanting to go right in. The waves were unceasing, and were so much larger than I was. I liked having help conquering the challenge of getting through the waves, into the depths of the ocean. That is why I used to love when my grandma came with us to the beach.

My grandma knew that I loved going into the water, and the waves were too large for the size I was when I was a child. Her soft, gentle hands would take me by my hand, only half the size of hers, and walk down to the shoreline. When the first wave came I would grab onto both her hands and jump into the air, and she would hold me up until they would backwash. The next would come, and again, she would lift me into the air and let me swing there until it was calm again. The whole I was laughing so hard, the smile would not leave my face no matter how hard I may have wanted to try. My giggling and laughter would cause a sweet smile to appear on her soft, pale face. After a small calming in the waves occurred, we would slowly inch our way into the ocean. Once the water got to my waste my grandma would swing me up into her arms and carry me out until the water was at her waste line.

Being in her arms was so soothing; being held someone that I loved so much and someone I trusted my life with in the turbulent waters. Once we reached the point where we could be tossed around by the waves, by still reach the sandy bottom to re-catch our balance, my grandma would sings songs to me. There two songs on this particular day that she would sang to me, and the words are always sung in my head every time I travel to the beach. The first song she would sing was part of the song “By the Beautiful Sea.” She sang the words “By the sea, by the sea, by the beautiful sea.You and I, you and I, oh! How happy we'll be. When each wave comes a-rolling in, we will duck or swim,and we'll float and fool around the water.Over and under, and then up for air. Pa is rich, Ma is rich, so now what do we care?I love to be beside your side,beside the sea, beside the seaside, by the beautiful sea.” As she sang, she would dance around, matching her movements to the lyrics. I remember being twirled around and dipped down so just the top of my head would touch the water.

After so much singing and dancing, we were ready to leave the ocean and warm ourselves up in the beating sun. On the way back to the shore my grandma would sing to me “you are my sunshine, my only sunshine.” Each word she sang had filled me with such joy that my grandma felt that way about me, and loved me with as much love as I had for her. It took away any worry or care that I had during the time I spent with her.

We went back to the shore to take a little breather from the harshness of the water. Once back, lying on the warm sand, we hear a bell ringing and the words “ice cream!” Nick, Josh, Katherine, Will, and I all raced up to the ice cream truck, which was located back down by the stairs at the entrance. After much deliberation picking out the perfect ice cream, we all went back to the beach to enjoy our cold food on a hot summer day.

Ice cream was left everywhere, and the small taste of food made everyone even hungrier. We all decided that it would be best if we went back to the house to get some lunch and cleaned up for our night time festivities. Walking back to the house I got the pleasure of holding my grandmas hand for the whole walk back. Once back at the house, my grandma made me my favorite type of sandwich, and sat next to me at the table in the dining room. Everyone finished eating, cleared the dishes, and washed all of the sand and salt off of our newly tanned, and slightly burnt bodies. We got ready for the boardwalk, which was the nightly routine every night we were there. We drove down to the correct street, found a parking spot, and walked up the ramp to go to the mini theme park they had there. My cousins, my siblings, and I spent the night riding rides. My grandma spent the entire night laughing with us, talking to us, and enjoying the time she got to spend with us. This day could not have been any better.

It was getting near the end of the night, and we were all exhausted from such a long, and fun-filled day. We got back to the house, and I put my sleep little head to get a good night’s sleep. As I was closing my eyes I thought about the day that I had; I got to sing and dance with my grandma, spend time laughing with her, and realizing her never ending love for me. As these thoughts raced through my head, I finally fell into a deep sleep to prepare for the new memories of tomorrow.

Although this day took place a little less than twenty years, it was racing through my mind on the day that we all had to say good-bye for the last time. The beach always brings a calming feeling to me, perhaps because of the found memories I developed there with my grandma. The ocean can be a frightening place, with the large, incessant waves, and the never-ending shoreline. Not to mention it is the place that my grandma, whom I will never see again, and not be able to create more of these memories with, now rests. However, my grandma made it a safe and enjoyable place. Songs were sung, memories were made, and bonds were formed. The memories that were made here will always be cherished, and never forgotten. I created a bond that will never fade away, and on that day, it was those memories and that bond that my grandma made for me, that allowed me to feel a little bit of peace during this trying time. This is why, even though it brings back upsetting feelings that I choose to love the beach for allowing me to have such found memories, rather than view it as the depressing place that stole my grandma.

Non-Fiction

The long, thin leaves of the bright green grass are sparsely placed amongst the entrance of the beach. The patchy shrubs, with its sand spur weed, are waiting to poke you as your bare feet walk across the path. Once on the beach, the heat of the summer day is overwhelming. The suns hot rays shine down on you skin, waiting to fry you.

You feel the hot, course, grainy sand, starting to burn the sensitive bottoms of your feet as you try and find safety for them. Walking down closer to the water you find large masses of people with their sea of multi-colored umbrellas taking over miles of the endless beach. Soft towels are laid perfectly straight over the sand for people to lay their relaxed bodies. While on the beach you smell the salty ocean air as each wave comes crashing in.

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Preview audio:

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Table of Contents:

Narrative: 3-16

Nonfiction: 17-24

Poems: 25-31

Personal Narrative

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"The Beach Is calling ~Taylor Strange"

TStrange

The story is a heartfelt narrative about the author's memories of her grandmother, their shared experiences at the beach, and how she copes with her grandmother's passing. It also includes non-fiction descriptions of the beach and several poems.

(31 pages)

Privacy level: PUBLIC

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