Vacation Time

Returning to school in September always brought excitement. There was always the anticipation of seeing old classmates and anxiety about who the new teacher/teachers would be. As I went through junior high, and especially in high school, it was always the wonder of whether there would be any cute boys in the class. Everybody would be milling about talking about their summer vacations. I don’t ever remember going on vacation. During the summer (when I was very young) we would go to my grandmother’s house in Due West, SC and from there to Greenville, SC. to my aunt’s house. Pretty much that was just a change of scenery. I guess the best part was we got to see our cousins. Fun consisted of spending afternoons at the creek trying to catch fish and killing what we called “snake doppers”. At Grandma’s house we had  wash basins and one giant tub that we had to fill by drawing water from the nearby well. We would bathe in the evenings after dinner. Two children to a tub of water. My cousins and I would line up and someone would draw the water and then we would pass it along the line and the last person who run it to the house. Once you came back, you went to the back of the line thereby giving everyone equal opportunity both to draw water and carry. The worst part of being at grandma\’s was the dreaded “outhouse”. There was absolutely no way to get use to that whole fiasco. Many afternoons I\’d sit on the porch swing and dream about a vacation where you got to sleep in a hotel and eat out every night. That place where they had real bonafide showers and nice fluffy white towels and beds that you could fall into and sleep so peacefully with no bugs or strange noises. I had heard that those places really existed. I vowed that one day I was going to get to do that. Our vacations were mostly work. It seemed as soon as we finished drawing water for breakfast and bringing in wood for the stove, that it was time to do it all over again.

Much too many years passed before I got to actually go on vacation. Even then I felt disappointed the very first time. Somehow I wasn’t comfortable sleeping in a strange bed that, when I thought about it, probably millions of people had slept in before me. During the summer months I always managed to take the children to New York to see their relatives –  grandparents, cousins, aunts, uncles and trust me, those times are important; however, determined to take the children on a real vacation, my friend and I decided to venture out to Williamsburg, VA. I figured a little history with a little fun would go a long way. I was never one for reenactments and that sort of stuff but I thought it might be nice for the children. Honestly speaking the first time I met a “reenactor” (is that even a word), anyway you know what I mean…..a person who gets dressed up and  acts out history on the weekend, I was stunned that people actually did that. For the life of me I couldn’t understand what would be exciting about giving up my “creature comforts” and dressing up in old time clothes made out of burlap and stuff. Washing clothes in a creek and cooking outside in the wilderness really didn’t sound like something I would aspire to do and most definitely there was no fun involved in that. It was almost like being at Grandma’s house all over again – NO THANK YOU!!!! I love my shower and air conditioner, not to mention a functioning toilet with nice fluffy toilet paper. I’ll take my refrigerator where I can go pull out a nice cold drink and even put ice in it.  And what about  those wilderness creatures you have to deal with!!! The old time Williamsburg part of the trip turned out to be very enlightening; however, I think the children preferred the water park. As for me, I was all the more traumatized!!!

After a grueling hot day in the sun, the children persuaded me to try water rafting – what a mistake!!! The only reason I agreed was because I felt bad not sharing in the experience of the water park with them. I don’t swim and I’m afraid of heights, so water, heights, anything of that nature is not my thing. I’ve never been pushed and jarred and thrown around so much in my life….not to mention the water sloshing back and forth and spraying us all. I was holding on for dear life thinking \”I’m not going to make it out alive\”.  Finally it was over. I was soaking wet from head to toe. More concerning however, was my heart that was beating so hard and fast. It took sometime for me to settle down and realize that I was indeed still breathing. After that experience I became the official “bag holder”. I began to think that maybe vacations weren\’t all they are cracked up to be. TALK ABOUT STRESS!!!! I couldn’t wait to return back home where things were quite familiar. I even had a flashback of Grandma\’s porch swing where I could while away the hours daydreaming. There’s nothing like being out of your comfort zone to make you appreciate the things you have. Vacations – they can be nice but, as the saying goes…..”there’s no place like home”!!!!