Several years ago Mother had moved to Corpus Christi, Texas. She had a cousin there and since she disliked the winter months, the older she got, she decided to move south and enjoy the warmer climate. She stayed about ten years and as the city grew the traffic grew with it. She and her little blue station wagon were having a difficult time just trying to get to the grocery store between all the speeding cars and that is when she decided she had had enough of the city life, it was time to go home.
It was during the summer in the month of July when my sisters and I, plus two foster sons ages 8 and 12, made the journey to Texas to help Mother pack her belongings. I'll refer to my sisters as Lela and Blanche. That's not their real names, but names of two of our father's sisters. They were notorious for never being ready on time and spending half the morning running around in their slips or gimps. (Lela always referred to her nightgown as a gimp.) One name doesn't always apply to one sister, they both can go by either.
Since we had a few days to accomplish the packing, we decided to spend a day at the beach and the boys had never seen the ocean. Yes, I know, the Gulf of Mexico is not technically an ocean, but if you've never seen the big water, it suffices as one.
I had forgotten to pack a bathing suit so Mother dug around and came out with a real beauty. It was a one piece silvery number with big formed foam cups that looked like torpedoes. I managed to get into it, since I had no other choice, and once Mother, Lela and Blanche stopped laughing we decided Madonna had competition. I just hoped I didn't literally run into anyone of short stature for fear of someone losing an eye.
Of course a trip to the beach, with two young boys, wouldn't be complete without a stop by the store full of beach toys. After the initial shock of thousands of choices, the elder choose a simple blow up raft. The younger picked out a small foam board, about three feet long, that had a long rope handle attached to the front.
It just so happened that this was a landmark day for Blanche. It was her birthday, the big five O. She was feeling quite spiffy and picked a spot close to the water to grab some rays. She worked tediously getting her beach towel laid out just right and when she was satisfied, she sat down, adjusted her sunglasses and leaned back to relax.
Have you ever seen an 8 year old boy run trailing a foam board with a long rope handle? Well, let me draw you a visual. First, he was so excited at being able to get in the big water. He was running fast and the foam board began to take lift behind him. Not only did it take lift, it began to spin wildly, like a giant windmill. The faster he ran, the faster the the board spun and the circle it made was getting wider.
He ran right across the end of Blanche's perfectly placed beach towel and as he exited the other side, the foam board clipped Blanche along side her head. Not only was her towel now covered in sand, her sunglasses were somewhere on the back side of her head and her hair was on the front side of her face. Needless to say, she wasn't feeling too spiffy at that time.
After watching the boys play awhile, I decided I would like to try out the foam board myself. I was maybe five feet from the shore in about six inches of water. My mission was to sit on the foam board and ride it back to the sand, somewhat like surfing. I positioned myself on the board and pulled my feet up, ready to glide across the short distance to shore. What happened next has gone down in the annals of all time favorite stories to tell at family gatherings.
As soon as my feet touched the board, the board turned parallel with the shore. A wave came in and turned me and the board completely upside down. The only body part now left in the water was my head. The torpedoes were aimed at the shoreline and my shiny silvery butt was straight up in the air with both legs flailing to each side. I resurfaced and I had enough sand ground into one side of my hair I could have made my own beach. Lela, who was standing next to me in that wicked six inches of water and had witnessed the entire episode, was laughing like an idiot. Even Mother, who was sitting in the van forty yards from shore, was laughing out loud. The guy in the car next to her thought that old gal had surely lost her marbles.
Let me explain something, there is a reason that signs are put up that read "DO NOT DIVE IN SHALLOW WATER". The ocean floor is hard, really hard. Not only did I have sand ground into my skull, my neck felt like it had been stretched past the breaking point. I spent the rest of the trip having to turn my entire body sideways if I wanted to turn my head.
If you have never seen the big water, try to do so, it is a magnificent thing to encounter. Be sure to stop by the beach toy store on your way, you'll be sure to make some memories.
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