Following her down the beach access road, I had the strongest sensation that I had journeyed this chapter in one of my summer reads. The one about the hip mom that collected free spirited, bare footed kids, threw them in her ’75 La Sabre, and adventured off to a day at the basin, collecting periwinkles, driftwood and hermit crabs. That’s the way Katy rolls. She grew up in a family of six, whose father customized an Utz potato chip truck in the 70’s , threw the family in with games and books, and set out to show them the country. She’s a free spirit who responds, “of course!” when her wet, sandy-bottomed daughter asks to sit on her lap in the beach chair, and “thank you for holding my hand,” when the other daughter touches base during a sunset beach walk. She’s been my friend since freshman year at York College . . . back when we were the ones trying to figure out what was important about life. Katy’s figured it out.
It’s magic just to be in her circle of loved ones. I can tell by the way her kids look at her.
Carl played “Pied Piper” all afternoon, kayaking the kids around in shifts and playing “don’t rock the boat,” with the crew so that Katy and I could sit in our beach chairs and reminisce. We met several of Katy’s “Plum Island” circle including Ty Buckman, a Shakespeare professor from Wittenburg University- he and Carl had exciting things to talk about.
Isabel and Kristiana knew they would be fast friends. After all, Kristiana has been sleeping in Izzy’s bed, reading her books, and sewing on her machine all week. I heard talk of “pen pal-ing” as we were leaving. 🙂
How do you impress upon your daughters that “being a loyal ya-ya” is one of the biggest gifts a girl can give and receive? I can’t tell you how many times Katy and I have had conversations about our experiences growing into women that ended with, “we’ve gotta be sure to teach our daughters about THAT.”
Claire has graciously given her room to Lily and Caroline for the week. The girls have loved being frog and hermit crab care takers.
And Sam finally got to meet Henry. No problem connecting there.
Katy’s one of those special ones . . . more concerned about people than things, experiences than places; she made us feel like we were the most welcomed guests ever to cross her threshold. Our only sadness was that we missed her David, by one day.
Plum Island . . . place of magical childhood memories. New England bliss.