Memories by the Beach--Chloe

Last summer, I only went to the beach five times. I know, to some people that sounds like a lot, but I love the beach. I mean is that not what summer is all about? Spontaneous trips, messy hair, and a good time. We spend what seems like fifty million years at school, the same hallways, the same people, until that last bell rings for summer and the possibilities seem endless. Well, three of the times I went to the beach last summer it was to get dinner, dessert, dip my feet in the sand, and watch the sunset, just as the wind started to pick up speed. On one of my trips to the beach, I rode bikes down the boardwalk, through the streets, shopped a little, and ate, of course. Only one of my beach trips last summer was filled with swimsuits, sand, diving under the waves, endless sun block, and naps under the sun. Why did I not have more beach trips like this? You see, when I was little, beach trips were all the same. My mom or dad would drive my sister and I to the beach, park, lug everything, which meant bags upon bags upon coolers upon chairs (it was never ending), to the best spot we could find, and immediately play in the water and the sand with the same sand toys, that could build millions of different sandcastles. Then we would eat, rinse off, change clothes, walk to the pier for ice cream, and go home, my sister and I always falling asleep until we pulled into the driveway of our house. Now, I may go to the beach and not step foot into the water. I can drive my friends and myself, and neither of my parents has to come. Sure, it is great to be able to drive to the beach, playing whatever music I want, laughing with all of my friends, but it is not the same. Beach trips are now filled with texts to make sure friends are still coming, asking for gas money, endless selfies and “photo shoots”, packing up everything by ourselves, and driving myself home, not being able to fall asleep until we reach the driveway of my house. It was never like this growing up. Why? Why do perfectly good things in life have to change? If it was amazing, and fun, and effortless, and some of the best memories I have growing up, why does it have to change? I can still smell the fresh morning breeze when we arrived at 15th Street in Newport Beach, the same beach my mom went to growing up. I can still hear the crunch of the sand that never failed to get in my peanut butter and jelly sandwich my mom made me. I can still feel the excitement of getting the same scoop of chocolate ice cream and hurrying up to eat it before it melted, and I can still hear my mom saying, “Wake up Chloe! We are home”. These were such good memories that may never happen again and sometimes it is hard to come to terms with my new reality, but I guess I realize now that things do not always have to stay the same. I do not have to go to the beach all day every time I go. I can get there at six o’clock in the morning or at night. No, those memories I have growing up and going to the beach will never be relived because I am not little anymore, but I realize that not everything has to stay the same. Having fun and feeling happy and free has no system or schedule, it simply has to do with taking life on. Changing and growing into my own person is a natural part of life, but it is challenging. The future is inevitable and it is impossible to physically be in the past, but my memories are there to bring me back to the moments I wish to remember or the experiences I can constantly learn from. I may not have it all figured out, but the beach has showed me that I have amazing memories, but it is time to make new ones. I do have a place in this world, and whether it be with a family of my own or on the other side to the world, I know that change is okay, because I will never forget the memories that make me who I am today. Life is perfectly imperfect and I do not think it should be any other way. Every time I go to the beach, I can still smell the fresh morning breeze and taste that inevitable sand in my sandwich, but now I shall enjoy driving up to my house, wide awake, and ready to share the memories of my day.