Plugging Back In

Our children each learned to jump in a pool here.

Each time, the strategy was simple: Jump into my arms and I'll catch you; then pull away and watch them jump for the rest of the week.

A new place compelling you to be somebody you're usually not and do things you might not otherwise do.

A few years go by ... diving was a first here, too.

This is the condo we've come to for the past 8 years.

Myrtle Beach, S.C.

For those who like to represent that they vacation here "ironically," they often refer to it as The Dirty Myrtle.

A neon parody.

***

Here a year ago, I was preoccupied, the momentum of deciding to move from where we'd lived for 13 years was consuming. This was a respite, a place where there really was nothing I could do.

Upon return, the momentum built, pushing out of our state of inertia.

We moved to the city. It was invigorating - but unsettling.

The house - Great Depression era - is intimidating.

The small size and lack of places to put things in old houses forced us to make decisions about what we could take with us.

It has been liberating.

There are things we have done without: Even floors, a dishwasher, ample electrical outlets.

It feels like you're living in another time, an alternate reality. Almost like going on vacation.

We often think back on our former home. We long for the conveniences but don't miss the listlessness.

The reflection has faded as the months pass.

We have a home. And it is what we know, even if it isn't as sure.

***
Last year, we rented the condo next door, because I had thought that I needed a change in my life and waited too long to book the one we usually stay in.

Life changed plenty.

I got this one in plenty of time.

It's been two years since we've been inside this one.

We weren't prepared for it.

We had divorced ourselves from our previous life. You can drive through your old neighborhood, but it's just another car in your driveway.

But the life you lived is sealed ... at least as far as houses go.

When we entered today ...

Look! Remember this carpet? Look! There's still a VCR player.

A dishwasher. Electrical outlets. The floors are level.

We have returned to modernity!

But more importantly, this place houses our memories.

Our past life.

A life we get to live if we make sure we make a reservation.

If only for a week. But we can come back next year.

And next year. And next year.

A bridge between lives that we didn't know existed.

What a great feeling.