Pensacola Florida, Gulf Breeze to be specific was where our family vacations were spent throughout childhood. Our Aunt Lora and Uncle Herbert (Uncle Hub) lived there w/their three children. Every summer we visited and spent time with family and equal time on the beach. Those vacations were pure magic for me. We lived in a rural southern community where we traveled 18 miles to the closest grocery store. Gulf Breeze was a bustling metropolis to a little country girl! My Uncle, a career Navy man, managed the local Jitney Jungle and it was less than 5 minutes from their home.
I remember the house on Dolphin Street. It was a large colonial home, it appeared like a mansion to me. Uncle Hub had a monster yard he tended with great pride. Upstairs to the left was David's room, Suzanne & Nancy shared a room that looked over the front of the house. Back to the stairs, past the bathroom straight into the master bedroom and bath. Downstairs there was a living and dining room, a hallway that led right past the downstairs bathroom on to the kitchen and through the door Nancy put her elbow through rough housing with her brother once. A nice den rounded out their lovely home.
Every time we visited my aunt was busy in the kitchen preparing her best fare for her Alabama family. I always wanted to know what was for dessert as Aunt Lora was an amazing cook!
One visit as she pulled a fresh cake with peanut butter frosting from the cabinet (where she had placed it for safe-keeping) she realized it had ants all over it. As she and mama worked on cleaning out and containing the ants, I kept vigil over the cake now in the trash can. I was on the verge of tears over that cake and just in time I hear my Aunt say "Herbert, why don't you take Leisa and get some ice cream for tonight." Yes! Dinner is saved! .. and off we went to pick out ice cream.
You see, as children our mother didn't allow sweets very often. Actually, we hardly ever were allowed sweets. While the entire world as I saw it had sweets and dessert daily, we were brushing our teeth after a pack of raisins. Then I grew up and realized mama was pretty smart.
My Aunt Lora would see the despair in my face though, look directly at me and wink. Her eyes sparkled with a little mischief and her "older sister" logic assured me it was handled. Mama would say absolutely nothing. I loved my aunt even more in those moments.
A couple years ago we were close enough to Gulf Breeze to run through there on the way to visit our cousins who live outside of Gulf Breeze now. The area has changed so much over the years and I feared none of it would be familiar. The old Jitney Jungle is long gone. I pulled out my gps and then I spotted Shoreline Drive and immediately I knew where I was. It took us by the old ballpark where we used to watch David play baseball. The streets I had not seen in probably forty-five years were right in front of me, I knew each turn.
The mansion I remembered is a smidge smaller, 204 Dolphin Street, now painted with green accents instead of my Uncle Herbert's lovely signature blue and a bit older. The yard is much smaller as well.
I realized apparently Uncle Hub owned a double-sized lot because there is now another home between the Craft home and the old Monzingo place. Yes, young Jay Monzingo lived right next door and he was a bit of a character. He once put the cat in the dryer and turned it on. That cat was never right again I was told. I loved to hear my Aunt Lora tell about the escapades of her little neighbor.
Each trip I saved my pennies to spend on shells at Allen's Shell Shop, also no longer there. At the beach we slathered on Coppertone 4 to protect our skin and it did.
When it was time to hit the beach we chose either the surf or sound side. I personally liked the sound because of the possibility of food. Mama usually took sandwiches but every now and again we could enjoy bought food. There was a little burger place right on the beach, it was simply a large screened room with sand floors and picnic tables to eat on, a kitchen out back. You could come in wet from the beach to eat and the kitchen kept hungry swimmers satisfied. They served Frosty Root Beer in frozen mugs pulled from the freezer. Root beer washed down the best burger you ever tasted.
If we chose the surf side, we parked on the side of the road, walked over huge sand dunes out to the water. It was like a quest to climb and climb finally topping the sand dune and gazing out over God's amazing Gulf of Mexico. That first look out over the water is deep in the recesses of my heart- I feel the thick salt air against my face, the smell, the waves crash ashore. It feels like home.
My oldest brother spent weeks one year, fashioning a board he could ride waves on. It looked like an over-sized boogie board. He painstakingly sanded it to perfection, varnished and waxed the bottom. That board sliced through the water like a knife and would hold all three of us. At night waterlogged and tired from play I listened to laughter and tales of times gone by. I slept like a baby in this magical place.
Every time we visited my aunt was busy in the kitchen preparing her best fare for her Alabama family. I always wanted to know what was for dessert as Aunt Lora was an amazing cook!
One visit as she pulled a fresh cake with peanut butter frosting from the cabinet (where she had placed it for safe-keeping) she realized it had ants all over it. As she and mama worked on cleaning out and containing the ants, I kept vigil over the cake now in the trash can. I was on the verge of tears over that cake and just in time I hear my Aunt say "Herbert, why don't you take Leisa and get some ice cream for tonight." Yes! Dinner is saved! .. and off we went to pick out ice cream.
You see, as children our mother didn't allow sweets very often. Actually, we hardly ever were allowed sweets. While the entire world as I saw it had sweets and dessert daily, we were brushing our teeth after a pack of raisins. Then I grew up and realized mama was pretty smart.
My Aunt Lora would see the despair in my face though, look directly at me and wink. Her eyes sparkled with a little mischief and her "older sister" logic assured me it was handled. Mama would say absolutely nothing. I loved my aunt even more in those moments.
A couple years ago we were close enough to Gulf Breeze to run through there on the way to visit our cousins who live outside of Gulf Breeze now. The area has changed so much over the years and I feared none of it would be familiar. The old Jitney Jungle is long gone. I pulled out my gps and then I spotted Shoreline Drive and immediately I knew where I was. It took us by the old ballpark where we used to watch David play baseball. The streets I had not seen in probably forty-five years were right in front of me, I knew each turn.
The mansion I remembered is a smidge smaller, 204 Dolphin Street, now painted with green accents instead of my Uncle Herbert's lovely signature blue and a bit older. The yard is much smaller as well.
I realized apparently Uncle Hub owned a double-sized lot because there is now another home between the Craft home and the old Monzingo place. Yes, young Jay Monzingo lived right next door and he was a bit of a character. He once put the cat in the dryer and turned it on. That cat was never right again I was told. I loved to hear my Aunt Lora tell about the escapades of her little neighbor.
Each trip I saved my pennies to spend on shells at Allen's Shell Shop, also no longer there. At the beach we slathered on Coppertone 4 to protect our skin and it did.
If we chose the surf side, we parked on the side of the road, walked over huge sand dunes out to the water. It was like a quest to climb and climb finally topping the sand dune and gazing out over God's amazing Gulf of Mexico. That first look out over the water is deep in the recesses of my heart- I feel the thick salt air against my face, the smell, the waves crash ashore. It feels like home.
My oldest brother spent weeks one year, fashioning a board he could ride waves on. It looked like an over-sized boogie board. He painstakingly sanded it to perfection, varnished and waxed the bottom. That board sliced through the water like a knife and would hold all three of us. At night waterlogged and tired from play I listened to laughter and tales of times gone by. I slept like a baby in this magical place.
That two-story colonial was not the first "Craft" home I remember though. There was a brick ranch with a long front yard framed by tall pine trees. I do not remember the street name, I could not have been more than six at the time.
Several years ago this memory I've had all my life, came to me as a dream. Both families were there. My brothers are in the yard tossing a football with my cousin David, daddy was around in the carport area with Uncle Hub looking at his lawnmower. I sat on the front steps just outside the living room with Suzanne (also the baby girl) playing. Inside the front door through the living room and to the left was the kitchen. Their oldest daughter Nancy was helping her mother make dinner, mama sitting at the table peeling potatoes. They talked and laughed as they caught up.
Several years ago this memory I've had all my life, came to me as a dream. Both families were there. My brothers are in the yard tossing a football with my cousin David, daddy was around in the carport area with Uncle Hub looking at his lawnmower. I sat on the front steps just outside the living room with Suzanne (also the baby girl) playing. Inside the front door through the living room and to the left was the kitchen. Their oldest daughter Nancy was helping her mother make dinner, mama sitting at the table peeling potatoes. They talked and laughed as they caught up.
I have thought of this home and that day often over the years but in my dream I could hear all their voices again. I haven't heard my daddy's voice in over 40 years but I heard it as clearly as if I was standing by him. My Aunt Lora sharing her week and my mothers laughter. I could hear them all. I woke with the most amazing feeling, I can't even describe what it felt like.
I know what the experts say about dreams. "a natural physiological function that is common to every human being and is necessary for maintaining adequate mental and emotional health." Yes, I know.
I also know what Gods Word says about dreams. I feel this was a confirmation dream, affirming what we experienced as children was good and true. Though not perfect by any means, the people were honorable, loving and genuine. We weren't rich, as a matter of fact I was told more than once as a child, I was poor. I'm pretty sure those summer vacations were part of the reason I never felt it to be true.
There's a lesson in there for parents today, children do not need "things." They need your time, they need waterlogged days and stories of your adventures. They need assurances that God's got this and no matter what happens, they will be okay. They need snuggles and hugs. They need tiny peebles and shells to hold in their hand, treasures from their day. They need laughter, so much laughter.
I know that sometimes our soul needs a lift and I believe God's unending grace blesses us with memories. We need to smell things and feel things we haven't experienced in years. Life is hard but we hear those voices for just a moment, we smell or taste something that brings the memories flooding back and it sustains us for a while.
That place, those people, they are ingrained in the depths of my soul. I am forever grateful for having had them all in my life.
I have truly been blessed and I am constantly humbled by Gods unending grace and love for me.
I hope you know that grace as well, if you don't? I know a nice stretch of beach where you can feel it.
I know what the experts say about dreams. "a natural physiological function that is common to every human being and is necessary for maintaining adequate mental and emotional health." Yes, I know.
I also know what Gods Word says about dreams. I feel this was a confirmation dream, affirming what we experienced as children was good and true. Though not perfect by any means, the people were honorable, loving and genuine. We weren't rich, as a matter of fact I was told more than once as a child, I was poor. I'm pretty sure those summer vacations were part of the reason I never felt it to be true.
There's a lesson in there for parents today, children do not need "things." They need your time, they need waterlogged days and stories of your adventures. They need assurances that God's got this and no matter what happens, they will be okay. They need snuggles and hugs. They need tiny peebles and shells to hold in their hand, treasures from their day. They need laughter, so much laughter.
I know that sometimes our soul needs a lift and I believe God's unending grace blesses us with memories. We need to smell things and feel things we haven't experienced in years. Life is hard but we hear those voices for just a moment, we smell or taste something that brings the memories flooding back and it sustains us for a while.
That place, those people, they are ingrained in the depths of my soul. I am forever grateful for having had them all in my life.
I have truly been blessed and I am constantly humbled by Gods unending grace and love for me.
I hope you know that grace as well, if you don't? I know a nice stretch of beach where you can feel it.
