My Roots are Salty

Earlier this month we traveled to Satellite Beach for my 20 year high school reunion.  That's right, Class of 1995.  Graduated before everyone had e mail.  And proud.

I had not been to my home town in a little over 3 years.  Since my parents moved I don't get down there very often.  It was cathartic to go home.  Just driving the roads you remember driving on as a child/teen is comforting.  The landscape makes you feel a peace.  No matter what has changed in my world since childhood, I can still go stand on the shore of the Atlantic, step over the same rocks I avoided on my boogie board with Dad.  It's like taking a really deep breath.

I have not kept in touch with many from high school.  But it didn't really matter.  We have a common ground.  We went to high school in such a unique place, many of my classmates checking out the surf from the second floor on the southeast side of the building.  It was fun recognizing faces and exchanging memories.  It was a good lesson in perspective...while I'm sure who I did or didn't sit next to in 2nd period was of utmost importance to me at the time, now I have no idea what class I even had 2nd period and who was in it.

I hope I can apply that to life today.  I'm still trying to figure out how.  To somehow decipher the important things and let the rest play out.  Memories are tricky and the human brain is mysterious.  But I made it through high school with an overall positive experience and I'm glad to celebrate that.

I also got a chance to hang out with my best friend growing up.  We lived next door to each other for 17 years.  I have countless childhood memories with her and I have told my own children tall tales from our adventures in the neighborhood.  It was wonderful to see her and for my kids to get to meet her.

I got to take my precious Violet to the beach for the first time.  I enjoyed watching my kids enjoy the ocean (missing Jackson, who was away at youth camp) and even getting to see some dolphins swimming in the Indian River as we went over the bridge. 

I stopped one last time at the beach closest to my house to take some photos before we drove home.  Just to soak it in, to hear the waves that are the background noise of my memories.  I took a pano of the familiar landscape.  As we were on our way out of town Jimmy said, "Your roots are salty."  And that sums it up perfectly.  I praise God for my salty roots.  And I pray that every day I am making roots for my kids that are strong and deep.  And hopefully a little salty.