When I arrived at my new parish, I learned that one of my parishioners was also a Beach Girl, from New Jersey. When I told her I was going to be going home for a quick two days for the first time in twenty-five years, and asked if I could bring her anything she said, “Salt Water Taffy.” It wasn’t as easy as I had hoped, being in town during the week, during the off season, but I did manage to find some taffy for Betti. Not sure how fresh it was but I wanted to keep the promise. Her health was failing. When she had passed away the following spring, and I was struggling for something original to share at her funeral service, I wrote this. In truth I wrote it for myself as well as for her.
For Betti and for me
When you are a “beach girl” and you live close to the water, and you don’t have to drive for hours to get there, you know the smell of the ocean, and the beach; the sound the waves make, inch by inch, lapping up the sand.
You know the call of the tides, the crispness of sun-dried seaweed left on the beach after low tide, and the sight and sound of the gulls, circling over head or hopping on the beach.
You relish the squishy feel of wet sand between your toes, and maybe you remember when you were little jumping up and down on the wet sand, amazed at the light color that appeared where you jumped, as though it were a sunburst in the sand, pushing the darkness away.
When you are a beach girl you never outgrow the search for sea shells, perfect or not, left abandoned by their former occupants, an amazing collection of calcium carbonate with ridges, colors and textures that range from a pale peach translucent, to an iridescent purple black or even chalky white.
When you’re a “beach girl”, you always know where to get the best salt water taffy. And if you move away, it won’t matter because you always remember the sights and sounds and smells of the beach because you carry them in you heart.
Copyright 2020 Michele Somerville, The Beach Girl Chronicles and https://msomervillesite.WordPress.com
msomervillesite 
Oh I loved this as I too am a beach girl – a winter beach girl. Love the feeling of the sand under the feet as the waves lap over the top. #SeniSal
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Thank you so much. it is not the first thing I ever wrote, but a stretch, but it is one of the first posts I wrote and published when I started my blog in December. I understand about the beach in winter. I purposely went home in the off season and think a bad weather day at the beach is better than no day at the beach. Several years ago I attended a conference in Myrtle Beach in January. My husband kept laughing at me because I wanted to walk on the beach during every break and would look out the window wall by the elevator, because it looked down on the beach. hanks for taking the time to read and comment. Blessings, Michele
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Beautiful, Michele! Reminds me of my days as a beach girl. I used to live at the beach in New Jersey (Lavalette) with my mother’s aunt and uncle during the summers when I was a girl.
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Thank you Laurie. Sounds like good memories! was it an ocean beach? You can probably tell by the pictures of my beach that is Bay, the surf beaches are on the cape, but the waves in Onset are pretty smooth. Much to my surprise kayaking has become a thing in Onset. I always thought of Kayaking as fresh water sport.
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