How Day One of Our Annual Family Vacation Differs from Decades Ago

Reflections from the porch.

Photo by Gary Meulemans on Unsplash

It’s six a.m., and I’m sitting outside on the screened-in porch of our vacation rental. Charleston, South Carolina. The first time we’ve ever been here. The cicadas are singing. The sun is preparing to rise. It’s hot and humid already — gonna be a scorcher!

This is my favorite part of the day. The house is quiet. The coffee is brewing. I’m alone in my thoughts and enjoying the solitude.

Shortly after I settled into the damp cushions of the wicker sofa, giving me a partial view of the neighbor’s backyard, the familiar sounds of young children travel through the air full blast. I hear them so clearly, they may as well be sitting next to me. I peer closer through the palm trees, but I don’t need to see the players to visualize the scene.

An annoying motorized toy races across the floor while a sleep deprived parent pleads with a defiant toddler to turn that thing off to come eat breakfast. A sibling enters the room, prompting a fight. The louder-than-it-needs-to-be shush coming from the groggy parent doesn’t fool me. Everyone in that house is wide awake and desperate for their caffeine to kick in.

I remember the details of those days well. The neighbor’s kitchen is a far cry from ours…