Winter Beaches

I do like beaches. Not usually in summer though. I’m more of a mountain and woods girl, but beaches in the winter—I like. The couple of times we have vacationed in Myrtle Beach for the Christmas holidays have held some cherished moments. One I wrote about in “Legacy of the Lullaby” the other I will share here.

It was probably 2001 or 2002 and I weighed more than I ever had. I hadn’t had my dramatic 117 pound weight loss yet and I was pretty miserable physically but content in most other ways. We were having fun feeding the gulls from our balcony, going to the Dixie Stampede and to malls set on planks. Christmas morning we opened gifts. (I can’t even remember if we opened in the hotel that year or at Aunt Cynthia’s.) What I do remember is the cozy red hooded sweater Mark bought for me. Red. I never wear red. I feel like a tomato in that color. But this sweater was soft and… large. It fit with room to spare. It came together in all the right places and zipped right up. I was so happy to get it. I know why he bought me that sweater—the same reason a few years later (and me minus so much weight) he bought me long underwear: I am always cold. His sentiment was sweet and I recognized it right away for the kindness and care he meant by this very red gift.

I remember sitting outside the hotel on the beach. I was perched on the edge of a platform of some kind under a steel grey sky watching the ocean and little Emily playing with a new doll. (Wow, that was a long time ago.) I remember feeling snug and satisfied. I was warm and loved. The sweater left my heart tender.

I still wear that sweater. It is one of the few items I have kept long after it was far too big. At my lowest weight I would wrap it around me almost double and notice its generous warmth. It is a bit nubby now. I toss it in the wash every few months, and I don’t care that it is not all that attractive. I am loved and cared for. I have a kindhearted husband. I am safe and warm.