• Skip to main content
  • Skip to primary sidebar
  • Skip to footer

Janice Beetle Books

Writing, editing, book development, and publishing help

  • Home
  • About
    • My Books
    • Clients’ Books
    • Privacy Policy
  • Services
    • Creative Writing Review/Coaching
    • Book Development /Writing
      • Book Development Sampler
    • Book Editing
    • Copy Editing
    • Book Design
    • Publishing Guidance
  • Blog
  • Poem Pods
  • Shop
  • Contact
  • Order My Book
You are here: Home / Adventures / Going Home to Florida

Going Home to Florida

April 30, 2018 by Janice Beetle Leave a Comment

Note: This is the third of three parts. Click here to read from the beginning.

The sun rose behind me as I drove west to Sanibel from my brother’s house in Vero Beach, Florida. I enjoyed watching the landscape, which was flat, grassy, and sprawling, and lined on both sides with cattle farms that went on and on and on for miles. Then, citrus trees, lined in neat rows, were the focal point to my left and right for at least 45 minutes.

I was elated when I finally arrived in Sanibel, Florida, about four hours after leaving Jeff and Wendy’s cozy house. This was my sixth year there, but I’ve never made any of the travel arrangements myself. I am usually along for the ride, so I felt both proud to have gotten myself there as well as happy to be nestled somewhere familiar and pristine.

I went running on the beach on Captiva, and then I set up my cooler, beach bag, and towel on the Sanibel side of the bridge, across from the Castaways cottages where I’ve stayed in the past. I read my book. I walked the beach in search of shells. I napped, and I settled deeply in to myself. To Sanibel.

It got cold about 4 o’clock. I had to put on long pants, my fur-lined winter boots, and my The North Face jacket. About 6, I wrapped myself in a fleece-lined blanket. I was shivering, but I was determined to sit there and watch the sun set at 7:37 p.m. I had not seen that phenomenon, in this setting, for twelve months.

When the orange orb dipped under the horizon, I drove to my cheap hotel in Fort Myers, where there was no management on site and the hallways stunk of cigarette smoke. (But it was still nicer than Shelley’s.)

As I settled in to my room, I had my first wave of loneliness, but a friend called me unexpectedly, and we talked until it was time to turn out my light.

I spent the next two days facing the Gulf of Mexico at Bowman’s Beach, following a similar agenda as I kept to on day one: Run, eat eggs, nap, read, walk the beach and search for shells, nap, day dream, eavesdrop on others, watch the sun set.

One goal I had for myself on this mini-adventure was to think about the concept of home, what it means to me. What makes me feel like I’m home? Nothing profound came to me. Until my last night on the beach.

I was listening to a young couple near me. It was his 25th birthday, and he received frequent well-wishing phone calls. He’d also been drinking most of the day and had a mean attack of the hiccups. He and his pretty girlfriend laughed long and hard.

A young boy nearby put a ring from a ring-toss game around his neck and said to his sister, “Look, I’m Saturn.”

I started to wonder why the hell I wasn’t at Jeff’s, sitting in the screen room with them by the pool, with my own family. I felt homesick, and alone. I thought about that moment when I recognized Jeff as a deeply personal part of my life.

Then my mind sped through other recent memories. I thought about a fall afternoon spent watching football at my daughter Sally’s house, when she and her husband made me dinner and indulged me. I remembered a winter weekend at my younger daughter Molly’s house, where she and her boyfriend CJ were also largely focused on my contentment.

And I thought about the few days I spent at Allan and Jennifer’s house over her birthday, and how hard we laughed and how much we connected. I pictured my housemate Craig driving me to the airport for this trip and knew his would be the face that greeted me on the way home.

Then, I had the epiphany that Jeff and Wendy are what is home. Allan and Jennifer are home. Sally, Tommy, Molly, CJ, Eli. Craig. All home.

Home is about love, but also about history, support, giving, taking. Home is wherever you left the people who nurture and look out for you.

At that very moment, Jeff called me as I sat there on the beach waiting to witness my last Sanibel sunset for 2018. He told me about taking his grandsons to a minor league baseball game earlier in the day. Someone in the crowd gave Charlie a fly-away ball, he said.

“I miss you guys,” I said.

I drove back to Jeff’s the next morning, arriving as the gang was finishing breakfast. When I walked in, with my cooler and bags, they all turned and said, oh so casually in a sing-song chorus of voices, “Welcome home, Jan!”

They had no idea what that meant to me.

← Previous Post
Next Post →

Filed Under: Adventures, All Tagged With: being part of a family, coming home, Gilford New Hampshire, Patrick's Pub & Eatery, Sanibel, Vero Beach, visiting family, visiting Florida

Reader Interactions

Leave a Reply Cancel reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Primary Sidebar

Subscribe

Please enter your email address to receive blog posts by email.

Categories

Recent Posts

  • Larceny in the Aisles is Hot Off the Press!
  • Ten Tips for the Travel Writer-Wannabe
  • Thrilled to Meet My Client From London

Archives

  • October 2022
  • June 2022
  • May 2022
  • March 2022
  • February 2022
  • January 2022
  • December 2021
  • November 2021
  • October 2021
  • September 2021
  • August 2021
  • July 2021
  • May 2021
  • April 2021
  • March 2021
  • February 2021
  • January 2021
  • December 2020
  • November 2020
  • October 2020
  • September 2020
  • August 2020
  • July 2020
  • June 2020
  • May 2020
  • April 2020
  • March 2020
  • February 2020
  • January 2020
  • December 2019
  • November 2019
  • October 2019
  • September 2019
  • August 2019
  • July 2019
  • May 2019
  • April 2019
  • March 2019
  • February 2019
  • January 2019
  • November 2018
  • October 2018
  • September 2018
  • August 2018
  • July 2018
  • June 2018
  • May 2018
  • April 2018
  • March 2018
  • February 2018
  • January 2018
  • December 2017
  • November 2017
  • October 2017
  • August 2017
  • July 2017
  • June 2017
  • May 2017
  • April 2017
  • March 2017
  • February 2017
  • January 2017
  • December 2016
  • November 2016
  • October 2016
  • September 2016
  • August 2016
  • July 2016
  • June 2016
  • May 2016
  • April 2016
  • March 2016
  • February 2016
  • January 2016
  • December 2015
  • October 2015
  • August 2015
  • July 2015
  • June 2015
  • May 2015
  • April 2015
  • March 2015
  • February 2015
  • January 2015
  • December 2014
  • November 2014
  • September 2014
  • July 2014
  • June 2014
  • May 2014
  • April 2014
  • March 2014
  • February 2014
  • November 2013
  • October 2013
  • September 2013
  • July 2013
  • June 2013
  • May 2013
  • April 2013
  • March 2013
  • November 2012

Footer

  • Email
  • Facebook
  • Instagram
  • LinkedIn
  • Pinterest
  • Twitter

© 2023 Janice Beetle Books · Privacy Policy
Content by Janice Beetle Books · Site by Turn Signal Media