Vacation

Vacation. I looked up the definition and it says “a period of time devoted to pleasure, rest, or relaxation”. This time of year is vacation time for some folks. For others, it’s just a regular work time, just hotter and drier than usual, especially here in this part of Texas. Since all my grandchildren are on vacation right now, I’ve been thinking a lot about vacations.

I don’t recall many vacations during my growing up days. In fact, if you compare them to the kinds of vacations the grandkids are having, we didn’t have any vacations like that when I was a kid.

We lived less than an hour from the Texas Gulf Coast, so occasionally we would drive down there for a Saturday at the beach. Some people in Wharton had a cabin in Rockport and several times they let us stay there for a night or two. Our church would sometimes take the kids to the beach and that was fun until one time on one of those trips I was attacked by Portuguese Man of War. I was probably about 10 or 12 years old at the time. I was the first one out of the cars and I went running out into the water. Almost immediately I felt something that felt like seaweed all over me and even inside my bathing suit. At first I just tried to brush it off and then realized that it was more than seaweed. I started yelling and fighting it off, but everyone thought I was just having a good time. Then I started screaming for help and running back on the beach. These tentacle things were wrapped all around me and the pain was horrible. The sting felt like fire. People came to my rescue and I was put in a car and rushed to the nearest little store where we asked for help. The people in the store knew what had attacked me and said to siphon gas out of a car and put the gasoline on me where I had been stung…which by now looked like I had been whipped with a wet rope all over my body, and it was hurting really bad! Well, they did what was recommended and guess how that felt!! Oh my gosh. The pain was excruciating. Needless to say that vacation didn’t end very well. I suffered from that for several days and then the whelps got infected (apparently because I scratched them in my sleep) and it looked like I had been whipped with a huge wet rope all over my body. Before it had looked more like a string. Now the stripes stood out from my body about an inch wide and an inch tall. Yes. I’m not kidding. I ended up having to go to the doctor and for weeks had scars all over my body. You wonder why I don’t like to go to the beach?

Well, let’s see. What other vacations did we go on? I remember going to Jackson, Tennessee to visit my Aunt Ivy, Daddy’s sister. Aunt Ivy lived way, way out in the country down a dirt road in a very old unpainted wood house. There was no bathroom inside, so we had to take a bath in a wash tub. That was…uh; let me think….not much fun. Aunt Ivy served us sweet iced tea for breakfast. That was a first for me. I kind of liked that. Aunt Ivy was a stocky little woman full of energy. Her husband, Uncle Ebe Blanton, had suffered a stroke sometime in the past and he was paralyzed and bedridden. Aunt Ivy obviously had a very rough life, but a wonderful attitude. She had a smile on her face and joy in her heart. It was obvious that she and my Dad loved each other very much. I think it must have been on that trip that we did kind of a “touristy” thing and went to Pickwick Dam on the Tennessee River. I remember getting to buy a bracelet that must have been made out of aluminum. It was silver and very light weight. It was kind of like a charm bracelet with little round discs hanging down spelling out “Pickwick Dam”.

Then there was our visit to Sapulpa, Oklahoma to see another one of Daddy’s sisters, Aunt Elva…we pronounced it Elvie. She was married to Uncle Argyle McDougal. I really liked visiting them. Aunt Elvie was a tall, slim woman with a great personality. I could feel her love for me. She made really good cinnamon rolls.

When we drove on our “vacations” to Tennessee and Oklahoma, I don’t recall stopping and spending the nights in motels. We must have driven all day to get there. We never stayed long….just a few days. I don’t think Daddy got much vacation time off from work.

When I was little, I went to Austin several summers and stayed for a few days with my oldest brother Murray and his wife, Genny. I don’t recall much that happened there except for seeing their dog vomit and then eat it. I know that’s gross, but it’s what I remember. There are pictures of our family doing some tourist things around Austin, but I really don’t remember those times.

Well, that about sums up my memories of childhood vacations. I know it doesn’t sound like much, but you know, I didn’t know I was missing out on anything. I really don’t think it’s bad. Nobody has to entertain me. And it doesn’t take much to make me happy. I hope my grandchildren are enjoying their vacations.