This blog’s for you, buddy. You’ll probably worry that one of your friends may run across it, but hey – not many 13-year-olds are going to be looking on-line for something written by an old grandmother. So I think you’re safe on that.
Matthew, this is a thank you letter. For what? Oh, just for asking to come spend the night with your GDaddy and BeBe. We know that won’t happen all that many times before you’re off and gone on your adult life adventures, and we just want you to know how important every hour is that we get to spend with you. Silly, I know. But that’s how we old people think.
After we knew you were coming for sure, you won’t believe the time we spent thinking what we could do to make your visit with us fun and memorable. GDaddy talked about going to Fort Matanzas, fishing, and biking. I talked about taking you along to the Flagler Humane Society and letting you “assist” with kitty photos (we’ll do that next time, if you’reinterested). Then I started researching surfing movies (because BeBe knows surfing is one of your great loves).
When you arrived and we threw all our “researched” suggestions out, you voted to start off with a bike ride. You and GDaddy left, and 20 miles later you returned. You’d both biked down A1A to Flagler Beach, crossed the Flagler Beach Bridge, looped around to the Hammock, crossed the Hammock Bridge, and then biked home back on A1A. You were tired, but you sure were a happy tired!
We went to the Turtle Shack for dinner. You devoured your crab cake sandwich in three huge bites and then finished off your French fries and my fried shrimp.
Upon our return home you settled on the couch under a snuggle blanket (sorry to mention that, but that’s what it was), and we rented A View from a Blue Moon from Amazon, a recently released surf movie I found that turned out to be a documentary on one of your favorite surfers, John John Florence. I’ll confess that GDaddy and I were prepared to be bored silly, but A View from A Blue Moon was one of the most beautifully photographed movies we’d ever seen. That your GDaddy didn’t go to sleep and start snoring until the last 10 minutes is a testament to that statement.
The movie ended at 9:00, and you surprised us by saying, “I’m sleepy. I think I’ll go to bed.” I think you were asleep before your head hit the pillow.
Saturday morning was planned around fishing. While we were still having our coffee you headed out to the seawall to see if the fish were biting . . .
. . . and they were!
Yes, we knew that flounder would have been good all fried up for breakfast . . .
. . . but you decided it could live to swim and grow bigger. That made your BeBe so happy.
You passed up that trip to Fort Matanzas to continue fishing, and off you and GDaddy went to Big Al’s Bait Shop.
Now Matthew, you really need to read this next part very carefully.
You see . . . we’ve lived here for over a year now, and your mom and dad and Jordan have come and your Uncles Jason and Blake have come, and most all of them like to fish. But it was only when YOU came that your GDaddy went to Big Al’s and bought a casting net (because you needed one to catch bait fish) and a live bait aerator (so those shrimp would stay alive for a few hours). And it was only when YOU came that GDaddy actually picked up the rod & reel he bought 15 months ago and . . .
. . . went fishing!
Two very patient guys hanging out together on the seawall.
Matthew, a lot of friends in Georgia and Michigan ask us all the time why we moved to Florida.
We tell them all about our beautiful home across the street from the ocean and the great nature preserve at the back of Sunset Inlet where we can walk out to the Intracoastal.
And we talk about how peaceful it is at the end of the day to stand out on the dock and watch the sunset and the waves rippling into shore when the big boats go by.
But – honestly – one of the main reasons we moved is so we can occasionally stand and watch you fish . . .
. . . and bait a hook . . .
. . . and cast a net.
Right now, Matthew, you may think this is all pretty silly – and that’s ok. But, maybe years from now – when you’re fishing with your own son or daughter – a little light will go off in your memory, and you’ll remember this day. And – technology being what it is – you’ll be able to look up this thank you letter on-line and read it to them. And maybe, just maybe, it will make you remember how much GDaddy and BeBe loved spending time with you.
And I hope that makes you smile.
We love you, Matthew!
GDaddy and BeBe