Calling my bluff

My childhood started out on Long Island, NY, and in New England often near the harbors and beaches. So no matter where I am, the coast feels most like home.

One welcoming nest has been peach-laden acres high on north shore bluffs above the Sound. At one time it held a ramshackle cottage that my aunt and uncle nabbed 75 years ago to leave "The City" and raise their kids. Folks thought they were crazy. But no...they blessed us all.

Over the years they were dedicated teachers and have battled storms that often wash away parts of the cliff and the long stairs down to the beach. The family holds on and rebuilds having revamped the cottage and stayed. Some years ago a long battle with Alzheimers took my uncle. Now this week, my aunt said her farewells having asked for that a final rest at hospice to end complicated cardiac and health issues. My heart hurts with longing and memories.

Whenever we gather here for generations-packed reunions, humor and love bring us home. We climb the stairs and wade in a tide of family, relishing every morsel of laughter, conversation and salt air. Peaches included. I have tried to paint the shoreline knowing the true light of this beloved place will mock me. For now my internal canvas is full of layered colors and moments never waning. I am so grateful.