Down the Cape

I remember going down the Cape every summer when I was young.

Cape Cod was only about an hour and a half away from where we lived (without traffic), and it was our summer vacation destination for many years.  Specifically Hyannis, where the John F. Kennedy Memorial is located.

For many years we rented a cottage for the week, enjoying the calm of the beach.  Although it’s been 30 years, I remember specifically the view from the cottages, the wooded area where we would barbecue, the walk across the parking lot to the beach, the feel of the sand on my feet, and the cool ocean water.  I remember the slimy seaweed, the salty taste of the ocean, the buoys marking the outer limits.  I remember my sister crying because her beach ball blew away, past those buoys.

I remember visiting the JFK Memorial and walking through the circular park.  I remember taking pictures in front of it, with my sister and me taking turns photographing each other with our parents.

I remember walking down Main Street in downtown Hyannis.  Eating ice cream.  Getting an airbrushed t-shirt (I think it was a unicorn in a heart, but I could be mistaken).  Getting my first and only bee sting, and my mom running into a grocery store for garlic to lessen the sting.

Summers down the Cape were different from our daily life, exciting to a child who got to sleep in a different bed and run into the ocean on a whim.  It was our beach, our home away from home, our special family spot.

I haven’t been to Hyannis in a long, long time.  I’d like to take my boys there one day.  I wonder if it looks the same, smells the same.  I wonder if it will still feel like it’s my beach.

OK, I’m getting off my shoebox now.