My family and I were very honored to have been invited, as special guests of Morey’s Piers, to spend the weekend in Wildwood, NJ and meet the famous Morey brothers, in person.
Okay, so I was THRILLED!!!
I got to revisit some of my favorite childhood memories of summertime(s) past: when my twin brother and I would spend our days playing on the beach, as my parents sunned themselves while listening to my dad’s favorite doo-wop radio station (WCBS FM 101.1), and then follow the parade of flip flops, begging our parents for “Please, just one more quarter?!?” to play any one of the dozens of carnival games (it was a long time ago, shuddup!) along the 2 miles of boardwalk, at night.
Okay, great, but what really made this family getaway even MORE fabulous:
A week ago, at this very moment, I posted a semi-lighthearted Facebook status — something about my husband Garth (not his real name) going out and hunting down donuts before we all go Amish for the next few days — having lived in the Bayshore area of New Jersey all our lives, we are no strangers to storms.
It’s a bird, a plane, HOLY CRAP dad is on the roof!
Truth be told, considering Hurricane Irene ripped us a new one a little over a year ago, my husband and I were more than just a little concerned about our roof riding out the projected monster of a storm known as Hurricane Sandy (a.k.a. #Frankenstorm, #Blizzicane and/or #Snor’eaterscane).
Reinforcing trouble spots, courtesy of Hurricane Irene.
Our house loses power whenever the town burps or hiccups (see also: FUBAR) so, stocking up on can goods, batteries, candles, lots of ice and Ibuprofen (okay, that last one was for me) is pretty much the norm.
At our house, everyone gets their own flashlight!
I continued posting snarky stuff on Twitter too, like: whoever came up with #Frakenstorm is most likely NOT from Jersey, better known as #Frigginstorm.
Or, contrary to what some folks believe about NJ, how I did NOT plan on being very warm and/or welcoming…sorry, Sandy.
Then the lights went out, we lost ALL contact with the outside world and stuff in our town started blowing up.
A few of my favorite photos taken (yes, BY ME!) on our spur of the moment, sure, we’d love to come and stay with you guys at the beach, New Year’s weekend family getaway to Cape May, NJ:
(Feel free to click on any of the photos for a closer look!)
Enough said. With many thanks to our very dear friends, Cheryl and John, for putting us up (yes, ALL OF US) and helping us to create such wonderful memories, because they roll like that!
My mother’s baby sister, Aunt Theresa (holding me) her friend (holding my brother) my dad, my mom and Nagy Mama late spring, 1964.
04/30/52 – 11/02/10
My Aunt Theresa sass’nit up on the dance floor (with me) on my wedding day (August 25, 1990) whose last wish was to be buried in the same awesomely sassy dress, tomorrow.
Until we meet again…save me a dance, my sweet and awesomely sassy Keresztmama (Godmother, in Hungarian) you will be missed, never forgotten and forever loved for ALL your sassyness and more!!!
I love the beach this time of year. The fresh, salty air is a bit chillier, which makes the water seem much, much warmer and, well, most of the Bennies (i.e., the cast of the Jersey Shore, mostly, ironically enough) have ALL gone home.
“When was the last time we were at this beach, again?!?”
I get it. I was young, once (shuddup!) and could NOT wait for Friday nights, in the summer, when we’d head down the Parkway to Seaside Heights and/or Wildwood Crest and sneak into bars study the bible, ALL weekend long!
“I remember, Momma, it was when we showed Dana the ocean!”
Glen’s 1st trip to the boardwalk — Jenkinson’s 1999
It really is just the right size for little ones; ALL tuckered out by nap time (me, too) and we’d be loooong gone by the time the Jersey Shore night life, you know, woke up.
“I thought that ride was SO MUCH bigger!”
Then, before you know it, YOUR kids meet the maximum 48 inches to ride and, well, you know, you can’t go back.
“Can we get zeppoles?!?”
Yesterday, however, was a GREAT day to get out (considering, September also translates to, “school holiday,” in Jersey!) and housewife is such an oxymoron, dontchathink?
Mmmmm….the view inside a big bag of zeppoles (pronounced as zep-poh-leez) or, fried dough, drowning in powdered sugar, if you’re NOT from Jersey.
“Noooo, I want funnel cake!!!”
Mmmmm…of course…(or, auf-cawse, if you’re from Jersey) there’s ALWAYS room for funnel cake!!!
“Wanna eat it on the beach?!?”
Bet you did NOT know we had palm trees, or blue skies, here in Jersey, right? Are they real? You know, I really don’t know.
“This was really an AWESOME day, Momma!”
What we DO know is that there’s SO MUCH more to Jersey than what some reality t.v. shows would care to admit, sort of.
“Too bad you ran outta money for the rides!”
Of course, it most likely will not be the one that my kids remember but, let’s NOT go there…just yet…m’kay!?!?
Next week, my husband Garth (not his real name) and I will be celebrating our 20th wedding anniversary.
Married. 20 years. To each other.
Inconceivable, considering I’ve only just turned 29, again (ahem!) but, how did we get here?
“Look, we found a box of old photos!”
Because, I’ve never been really very good at finishing what I start (cough!) and 2 out of 4 of their baby books are actually, you know, finished.
“Who’s that?”
My dad. My mom. My grandmother. They ALL looked so young. I managed to hold onto it (barely) but, couldn’t stop my hands from shaking when I remembered who must have taken the picture.
“Why does Papa look so sad?”
My grandmother was married to a very (and I mean VERY) abusive man (in the worse sense of the word, really) so, I can IMAGINE what my father was thinking at that very moment.
“I think he was maybe just nervous.”
With good reason. My father had a tumultuous relationship with HIS father-in-law (which, happened to be on a good day) and, well, the decision to move in with his in-laws must NOT have been an easy one, either.
“Was she married?”
Growing up, in that house, however, was MUCH worse.
“Who?”
Still, ALL parents fight…right?
“Your grandmother.”
Especially, with their in-laws…no?
“She was married, but then she got divorced.”
Granted, I don’t remember my friends ever talking about the police being called out to their grandparents’ houses.
“For how long?”
Not as often as they visited mine, I mean.
“How long, what?”
Then, there was silence.
“How long was she married?”
Days and days without talking to each other.
“40 years, I think.”
Doesn’t matter. After a while, it all becomes a BIG blur anyway and, well, I just never dreamed it could be, or would be…any different…for me.
“She was married twice as long as you and daddy!?!?”
20 years. Married. To each other.
“Are you going to do something special for your anniversary?”
Inconceivable, indeed.
“Yeah, we’re gonna stay married!”
Frankly, the man of MY dreams was WAY different.
“That’s NOT funny, mom!”
Thank you, Garth (not his real name) for NOT being that man!!!
