Why Is It Better In The Bahamas?

Given that my friends farther up the East Coast are being tantalized and simultaneously harassed by a blizzard, certainly I can say that it’s better in the Bahamas because the weather is pretty close to perfect.  That isn’t to say that I don’t adore the seasons and their idiosyncratic personalities, for I do.  But there’s something to be said for pulling out shorts in the middle of the winter.  There’s a lot to be said for spending your days challenged by such weighty decisions as whether to go to the beach or the pool.  I would imagine that if this was the routine of life, my brain would get a little squishy.  For a week though – bring it on.

I’m reading a lot, alternating chapters with naps induced by the ocean’s music – which trumps anything on my iPhone.  I have somewhat lost all sense of time and I don’t miss it.  Andy and I spend a lot of time behaving with embarrassing immaturity.  It’s ok, there’s no one here who knows us.  Even the seagulls seem to be happy to be here – despite the intrusion of parasailers interrupting their orbits of the sea.  Andy is golfing this afternoon; I am sitting here listening to laughter echoing off the beach and feeling beyond peaceful.

Perhaps it’s better in the Bahamas because it is a moment in time.  There is no doubt that I will be ready to go home when next Wednesday rolls around because I’ll be missing my kids, the Sirs, my home – the life I have made.  It makes today all the sweeter, all the more delicious because it is a treat.  A moment to step outside myself and be inside myself.  And just feel abundantly free.

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