Summer Lovin’
There’s something about the onset of summer that makes me want a man more than any other time of year. Official Summer is later than my clock. June 1st marks the day on my calendar. I know most people feel the yearning to be part of a couple around the holidays. For some there’s nothing nicer than waking up on Christmas morning with the person they love. There are the holiday parties and the comfort in knowing you have a date and it’s with someone you want by your side. There’s also the joy of shopping for the perfect gift and the anticipation of seeing their face as they open the present.
Not for me.
It’s summertime and being solo that makes me melancholy.
I love warm weather: the smell of sunscreen, my feet in the sand on a beach, the water footsteps away, and libations with fresh fruit. It’s summer that has me longing for Him.
NYC has been hot and humid lately. The feeling is in the air—vacation is just around the corner. Four summers in a row I’ve rented a beach house in Virginia, right on the ocean. My daughters and their pals (as many as they want) are welcome to come. I also invite my closest friends. It is a relaxed time with absolutely no agenda. I don’t need lots of organized activities. I’m very happy to sit under the EZ-Up (my days of bronzing are over) with a stack of books, a beer or cocktail. I’ll occasionally grab a boogie board, head to the water to cool off, maybe ride a few waves and let the ocean knock me around a bit, but that’s the extent of my daily game plan.
Um, that’s not exactly the size of the waves
There’s a Ping-Pong table and I have a ruthless serve and a nasty spin on my backhand (don’t smirk, I do) so a competitive tournament in the evening is possible. After a few days my younger daughter will finally beat me so badly I put down the paddle for another year.
There’s a game table next to the large windows overlooking the sea. My friend Lisa always has a ridiculously difficult puzzle in the works and won’t stop until she’s got it all finished. Love her tenacity.
My oldest daughter makes the meanest piña colada I’ve ever had and the blender is regularly in use. The living room has large overstuffed sofas and when I come out in the morning (I’m always up first) there are usually the sleeping forms of those too tired (or perhaps too intoxicated) to make it to the bedrooms the night before. I love the quiet of the morning and head to the deck with coffee to watch the dolphins that come close to shore at sunrise to feed.
Morning view from the deck
The dogs love it too. Kate and Lola (firstborn’s rotten Pug) are beach bitches.
Kate goes feral
We start our morning with a lengthy leash-free walk. Nigel joined us last summer but he was too heavy to enjoy the exercise.
Chunky Nigel Summer 2011
This year he’s lean and mean and I can’t wait to see him keep up with the girls. We take flashlights once it is dark and shine them on the hordes of sand crabs that begin feeding at dusk. The dogs chase the creatures and I wait for the requisite pinch they’ll receive from the claws of their prey.
Watch it, Lola
I cook a big meal every night and dinner is served at whatever time it gets done. There are always plenty of volunteers to cut, chop and dice so preparation is as much fun as consumption.
I love to cook. Having a big group enjoying the food is my bliss. Dinners are filled with wine, highly inappropriate conversation and large doses of raucous laughter. It’s fun to watch my friends and my daughters’ having fun together.
It’s at those instants I feel the pang.
I want to glance across the table and smile at the man I’m with. Share the “this is a brilliant moment” look. I’ve not had that experience and this year will be no exception—even if I were to meet the perfect guy today.
There’s a feeling of camaraderie at the beach. An intimacy. It would be much too soon to introduce a new man into that mix. I would have to be sure that he’s one I could end up with. I don’t want to taint future summers with memories of a guy I didn’t know well enough to realize was, well, a jerk. I also don’t want to be surprised by things I might learn under vacation conditions. I need experiences, perhaps a catastrophe or two before I can be sure he will add to the party.
For instance, I could tell a lot about a man by his reaction to the Kate boondoggle. If he were with me when it happened—even better. If he either added to the stress, or in any way made light of it, a warning shot would be fired. If he said something marvelous like, “It’s a dog not a child,” or went into high alert, barking orders, blaming me or the doorman, freaking out–he’s not my guy.
If our first date included my pratfall and he was embarrassed or ashamed by my tumble, if he couldn’t laugh with me once I got over the humiliation or tell me it wasn’t that noticeable–he’s not my guy.
I would also want to see him interact with my daughters more than once or twice. Although they are adults, independent women in their own right, it is important that they get along. If he’s condescending or dismissive—he’s not my guy.
Lastly, there is the most important reason that the beach is not a spot to bring Dude du Jour.
It is the place where Neal’s ashes were scattered.
It isn’t a sad memory—he didn’t want it to be. I intentionally chose that location because he said any beach would be fine. That one was special. It was there I spent two summers of my childhood and those remembrances are some of the happiest I have. I wanted him to meld with those memories and have intentionally made each summer at the beach one big party. A way to recognize that although another year has passed, he’s still on our minds. To acknowledge him in a way that briefly pays homage to his life. There’s nobody who loved a good party more than he.
The man in my life would have to accept that on one night, with many who knew him best, we open a bottle of champagne and drink to Neal.
It will take time to be sure he can handle it. He will have to know there is no competition—Neal is gone. He has to feel loved by me with the same fierceness I once loved another. He will have to be as sure of himself as of me. Comfortable with the annual, short but significant, tradition of recognizing Neal was here. The stories will be the same and most of them funny. There are never tears. Just an hour or so of joyful appreciation of the larger than life person he was and how fortunate we all were to have known him.
The right guy will not ask that this be modified. He’ll get it. Perhaps even grow to enjoy the experience or toast Neal himself. He will instinctively know there’s no need to feel he is less and will accept that this ritual will continue for as long as our glorious summers in Virginia Beach remain.
“In Summer, the song sings itself.” William Carlos Williams
One of your best compositions. You have a real artistic talent using words as a medium. I felt like I was there.
Thanks, Mitch. That’s what a writer hopes to hear.
Beautiful Mel, just beautiful! I hope that the next perfect man for you embraces how you can love so deeply because you have ” been there and done that” . Expert teaching delivers brilliant students. Have a wonderful time. Xoxo
Vicki, thank you so much. I’m glad we reconnected and can’t wait to see you again. Love what you wrote about expert teaching.
Beautiful Mel. Enjoy your beach time with family which of course includes your precios dogs. Sending positive thoughts and a toast to Neal. Your writing makes me feel like I wanna wake up on the couch after too many of those pina coladas and I’ve whooped some butt in ping ping. Hah!
Tracy, you’d fit right in!
Lovely post Melani. Enjoy your vacation
Aww, thanks, Susan.
I agree with Mitch that this posting was one of your best. Such a rich tone and rhythm to it that brought your seaside escape completely to life. I’m sure it made all of your readers (including me) envious of the warmth and love that you have in that beach house………. though I sincerely felt your melancholy while reading it…………..and it has stayed with me. If that isn’t good writing, what is??????
As an aside………… I picked up “50 Shades of Grey” out of curiosity and threw it in the trash after 3 pages……….the worst writing published (that I have read). Would be interested in what you think of it.
As yet another aside…………I just read the follow-up post to Daniel and, boy oh boy, do I owe you an apology, or what????? I should have known how accurate your “gut” was.
Thank you, Jo. Although summer brings out the feelings of melancholy, I know how lucky I am to have the beach house experience and it truly is a place filled with love and warmth. I’m glad I was able to convey that to you. No need to apologize about Daniel. You were just offering an opinion based on the information I gave. Once you had all the facts (after the update) it became clearer. I’m currently reading Fifty Shades. I must say that her writing is beginning to irritate. If she writes “Oh my” one more time…..
Love that Lola and her sand crab.
This is such a beautiful piece and a tribute to your love for Neal.
Thanks, June. xxoo.
My favorite one yet!
Thanks, Mary!
Once again, I absolutely cannot fathom why you don’t have a line of men out the door and around the block all wanting to get to know you. Reading this post just reinforces my idea that you really are that charming.
Stan, you ole sweet talker. No line, promise. Thank you so much for your kind words.
I know the draw of the beach and a summer cottage and all the
disparate parts that make the memories alive even on the rainy
evening in New York alone with a glass of wine and the hope
for a satisfying companion some summer night soon. What
a beautiful post and a welcome repose from the online dating dramas.
Thank you, Carrie. A rainy evening and a glass of wine are far more satisfying than dating drama–online or off. It doesn’t even have to be a good vintage. I’m glad you enjoyed the post. Thank you again for your comment.
I agree also…a great piece. You are right, there is nothing quite so seductive as the lazy, laid back lifestyle at the beach. If you’ll be there all summer, will you still be writing about your ‘dates’? Hope you find someone special there at the beach to share your time with. Sometimes love just happens when you least expect it at all…Have a great summer!
Thanks, Tracey. I’m only at the beach for two weeks. The rest of my summer will be in hot, sticky NYC. That is unless Mr. Fabulous shows up and sweeps me away to Paris or Poughkeepsie.
I eagerly await your new posts, and this one topped the list. You paint a beautiful picture with your words. What a gift you have. Thank you for sharing the gift with us.
Julie, thank you so much!
A toast to Neal.
Enjoy your beach stay and kick some ass in ping pong.
You know I will–until my competitors hone their skills and bring me to my knees. Another beach tradition.
Icannot believe you do not have millionare stud muffins lining around the block for you . My wife said if she croaks I can ask you out so No Michael!
Read Greg Iles He is edgy and old south is location for his stories cannot put down his books read until 3 . Leans to Pg rating.
Beautiful words. How fortunate you were to have had Neal in your life. And how blessed he was to have had you in his. Someone who, five years later, is still his greatest fan! Some people live their whole lives and never experience what you two shared!
Like you, summertime is when I start feeling a bit melancholy and want to put my IPod on repeat and listen to Rob Orbison’s “Only the Lonely” and “Crying”. Just got back from Del Mar and San Diego, where the weather was perfect and the views were breathtaking. My two sons, (20 & 18) kept me smiling, made me laugh a lot and allowed me to sit for hours on end under my beach unbrella with a book and my hidden sippy cup (drinking on the beach is not allowed…can you imagine!) while they scoured the beach for bronzed California babes and great waves. It was an incredible week with the two favorite men in my life!
Life is good even if I have to sneak back to the room for a rendezvous with my vibrator! LOL
Karen
Karen, yes, we were both lucky. We weren’t unaware and made sure to voice our gratitude every day. There were no words left unsaid when he died. Love your description of the vacation with your favorite men. It sounds perfect. Time for some Earth, Wind and Fire on the iPod. That’s my Get Happy music. Thank you for sharing.
This was wonderful to read. I want to go with you
Thanks, Kelli!
Amazingly well written. Thanks.
Thank you very much, Steve!
Hi Melani,
I came across your story by accident while surfing the internet for hints on how I can get out and meet people. Your story really did touch me as I have been widowed for a little more that 2 years now and I can really understand how much Neal meant to you the same way my beloved Phyliss was to me. So I just wanted to say that it is a great thing that you are doing in moving on with your family and at the same time keeping that special place in your heart filled with loving memories… Ron
Thank you, Ron. I love it when someone finds the blog through a random search. I think it’s much easier for someone who’s been in my flip flops to understand how I can continue to love Neal deeply yet be ready to love again with equal intensity. I am sorry for the loss of Phyliss. I hope you’ll keep following along and also share what’s going on in your life as you move forward. Thank you again.
you are welcome…. and if you would like to talk more you have my Email… Have a wonderful day…Ron
Melani,
I stumbled across your site this week and stopped work for a whole afternoon reading it. This blog is my favourite so far, I have so enjoyed reading about your time at the beach. You create great pictures in my mind. I also rather enjoyed wondering what the hell an ‘EZ-UP’ is and laughed aloud when I found out, (dare I say that I am British?) – Now onto your next months. I am enjoying your tales very much. Fetlock!
Fetlock, thank you so much for your message. I love, love, LOVE to hear from new readers. I am thrilled that it was entertaining enough that you read for an entire afternoon! So funny about the EZ-Up! FYI, I adore everything about the British but your humor (humour) is my favorite. Thrilled you’ll be following along and thank you again for your message. You’ve made my day that has been spent unpacking from my move (you’re in June on the blog and I’m now in October–read on).