My wife and I are spending a week at the Jersey Shore with my daughter, son-in-law and our two granddaughters. Granted, I’ve never felt the allure of this noisy, crowded locale. While there are some oases of tranquility, it mostly borders on chaotic as end of season tourists crowd the shops, streets and restaurants.
However, Long Beach Island holds a particular allure to my daughter, as we brought our kids here for a few summers when they were small. My wife is also the quintessential beach bum. She loves everything about the beach and can spend hours on the sand.
My second granddaughter, our miracle baby who started her life at 1lb 7 oz and 97 days in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit, is almost two. She’s babbling happily and has discovered my moniker ”Papa.”
Her voice resonates throughout the house, “Papa. Papa, Papa…” She knows how to make me smile—no, actually, laugh out loud. She’s fascinated by cars, lights, dogs and all the other stimulation of being in a new place.
Meanwhile, the older one (nearly six) considers me her lounge chair. Cuddling on my lap is her happy place. Nothing makes me happier; although, if my newest granddaughter were here, I’d be filled beyond capacity (and out of lap space).
Sitting on the rooftop deck of this rented home, I can see the ocean to my right and the bay on my left. The water looks wonderful and the sun is shining brightly. It isn’t “my happy place” physically, but with my granddaughters close at hand, I want nothing else.
Experiencing full days with them is different from visits that last an hour or two. This immersion with them has touched me deeply. While I might have groused about going to the noisy, crowded shore, I discovered a force more powerful:
Pure joy!
