Oh to be there.
Michigan and right on the lake. Motel room in a thunderstorm. Only a week’s vacation but that cousin struck by lightning and killed. Better to stay inside and the umbrella likely to turn inside out just going to the dining room for lunch.
Balcony with a railing with round things made to look like the rings on a lifeguard’s tower but somehow looking more like white Lifesavers candy in the bottom of a Christmas stocking.
Movies to watch and books to read. Cards to play with one’s husband if he isn’t busy napping. But not the same to him. No, from out west and nothing mid-west for a memory.
But yes. Picked up at the end of camp and driven around to various places until school started. Two at a time and all the time in the world with both grandparents. Parents at home with the others but not having to go there until school starts. Someone else’s turn next year. Another turn the summer after that.
A different restaurant every day and television until it went off instead of being turned off and being made to go to bed. Endless change for the soda machine and fun all day.
But a postcard falling out of the pocket in the bottom of the overnight case. Something to keep and remember, it was. . . not knowing it was the last time . . . some things it’s better not to know. . .