Along the Shorelines.
It’s the week of July 4th and so begins another adventure to the sandy shores of Surfside Beach, South Carolina at a campground called Ocean Lakes is where the salty air, crisp sun, and refreshing waves would tan my skin, brighten my blonde hair, and recharge my sense of exploration.
“Kandy, you up?” I hear Memaw calling from the kitchen. Excitement fills my soul as I know today is the 4th of July. Today is chalk full of fun and lively entertainment. I throw on a patriotic tank top and shorts before bouncing into the living room to find Poppy up reading morning scripture and waiting for whichever grandchild to awake and retrieve his paper from the beach market. “There she is” he chuckles as he wraps me in a bear hug. (Side note that my Poppy would happily go pick himself up a newspaper; however, he was paralyzed from the waist down due to a stroke years back.)
I eagerly assured him that I was ready to go and he laughed as he gave me some extra change for a Sundrop slushie. Rushing out the door I would hear memaw and mom reminding me over and over to be quick so that we would not miss any festivities. I was known for my bad habit of excessively talking to people or gazing at items in the store (some things don’t change).
Out the door and onto my bike I leapt and bounced before catching my balance and taking off through walking trails around nearby ponds. Peddling as hard as I could with a bright smile and slight breeze brushing across my face. It was only about a ten minute bike ride before I would pull into the store and run in to greet our neighbor; Mrs. Faye, who worked at the store. She knew of our daily routine where a Jones kid comes through the door to get Bob’s (Poppy’s) paper and a treat. Once my slushy was full; back down the road I would fly, because there was no time to spare on the 4th of July.
Propping my bike against our shed; I’d jog into the house to give Poppy his paper and a kiss on the cheek. Waiting in the kitchen sat Memaw to ensure that I received my normal breakfast routine of Eggo Waffles and Lucky Charms Cereal.
Mom beach prepped our baby brother; Ethan, before checking that the other three of us were lathered in sunscreen, beach toys were packed, and cooler was loaded. All four siblings in coordinating 4th of July bathing suits would squeeze onto the golf cart with Ethan plopped on Dad’s lap. I would always remind mom about the annual parade and she would reassure me that we would arrive there in plenty of time. Glancing back at my bike that mom always helped me decorate with starry blue ribbons, red streamers, and Pepsi cans tied to the back of it.
Waves crashing, sea gulls cawing, and children’s laughter would fill the air as we raced through the sand dragging boogie boards, shovels, fishing nets, and buckets. Jumping through waves, chasing seagulls, burying one another in the sand; life just didn’t get much better. Time never slowed down and it wouldn’t be long till mom and dad rounded us all up, passed out sandwiches, and we were off to the next event.
Steadily rocking back and forth, repetitively checking to make sure that cans are secure, brakes work, streamers flowing, stars and stripes visible, smiling at the kids around me, because it was finally time for the annual golf cart/bicycle parade. It was finally time to smile and wave at everyone in the audience. Naturally I would always look for our family to ensure they saw me; my smile would widen once I received thumbs up from dad, spastic waves from Mom and Memaw, and a hand in the air from Poppy.
Soon the aroma of charcoal burning would fill the air as our bellies would rumble glancing at an abundant amount of watermelon, burgers, hotdogs, potato chips, and decorated desserts. We would gather with friends at whoever was willing to hold everyone and as soon as you came to the street there were bubbles flying, bicycles everywhere, chalk up and down the road, electric slide blasting, and a big “hey ya’ll” from the porch.
Ketchup would run down the sides of my burger and typically land either on my shirt or shorts. Mom would always roll her eyes as I carried on shoveling the goodness of this juicy and patriotic burger in my mouth. After much fellowship, line dances, games, and jokes; we would grab our chairs and head towards the beach. It was typical to park at the beach access for firework excitement. If you didn’t make it in time, then you missed out on a hot spot.
Soon blasts of reds, blues, purples, greens, golds would ignite the night sky leaving everyone in awe of the shapes and sizes each burst would create. Families sitting close together admiring the beauty, comforting little ones during the loud booms, or handing out sparklers to wave and dance around.
The 4th of July always being a day, a time, a moment to reflect what a blessing it is to live in freedom, without fear, in harmony, and having the privilege to make a dream become a reality.
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