Saturday morning, we packed up and headed north to sit on a beach, do a little reading and have lunch.  Notice I did not say sit in silence and relax.

After multiple iterations of how to strategically place the blanket and umbrella to optimize the sun, we sprayed ourselves with sunscreen, set up the chairs and settled in. I bought Chip the newspaper to read along with Men’s Health and Rolling Stone magazines. We packed sandwiches and snacks for Chip and some salad, turkey and fruit/nuts for myself.  This diet requires a bit of ingenuity to pack a beach lunch. We are ready to chill.

I’m sure when I say this, all you sun worshipers will understand. When you sit back and tilt your face to the sun, you truly feel nature’s (and/or God’s) strength. The power of the sun is tremendous.  It keeps the earth balanced, growing and strong.  I sat back and removed my glasses and the sheer light thru my eyelids was blinding, yet peaceful.  I could feel my skin come alive as I basked in that warmth. I needed to share feeling  this so I turn to Chip to enlighten him!

and I get a “Yes, Honey.”

So I share more observations of the kids yelling “Marco” and then “Polo” and how I remembered Amelia and Jack playing that for hours in the water.

and I get a “Yes, Honey.”

Next I convince him to cool off with me in the lake so we hurry down through the hot sand and stand in the cool lake water and, of course, chat some more.  I ask if he would like to go back and read.

and I get a “Yes, Honey.”

The magazine is in his hand no more than a minute when I start talking again.  My husband of 30 years quietly folds the magazine shut and turns to talk with me.  It then dawned on me that I truly cannot be quiet. He knows this and acquiesces to the lot he was given– a chatty wife.

Then I started to think about other times where the silence is unbearable. Like driving with Jack.  I cannot stand the silence so I ask him a thousand questions and get a few grunts and ‘ok’s’. (Amelia and I don’t have that issue!)

It’s a wonder I make it through a 55 minute spin class in silence and upon reflection, I really don’t.  I either talk to myself or to my poor friends Terri, Mara and Nancy; or any poor soul who is unfortunate enough to get the bike next to me.

I will make a blanket apology now to my friends, coworkers and poor Chip.  I am sorry I cannot be quiet, and I am more sorry that I don’t think it will change.  Chip, your peace comes when I am asleep.  I love you for not losing your patience all these years, on all the beaches from Taormina, Italy to the Finger Lakes in New York.

Maybe this weekend I can try it again? or not.