Farewell to Florida

Moving through the stages of vacation is a bittersweet experience; the memories are spectacular, but the farewells are heartbreaking. We spent a spectacular week with the Petersens and Marquie, which culminated in a great adult night out on Friday. I enjoyed Dungeness Crab, a first me, and we had a grand time laughing, talking, complaining, and swatting bugs. On Saturday our hearts broke just a little as we bid farewell to our loved ones. Once they lived so close that we could weekend together, but as we drove away, our new separation felt even greater.

As it is Sunday evening, it is an excellent opportunity for reflection. We arrive for lunch yesterday, enjoying it with Grandma and Grandpa Turner at their new home on the other side of Florida. It has been several years since I have seen them, although Liz and the boys were able to spend time with them earlier this spring at Rachel's wedding in Utah. Before dinner, we grabbed Great Grandma and Grandpa Liscom and we all went to the beach, this time enjoying the completely different attitude of the Atlantic Ocean. While the Gulf was calm, warm, and serene, the ocean, on this day was cool, churning, and sported the best waves I can recall ever having the privilege to crash. Some of them came rolling ashore over my head, and I estimate there were at least a few good eight-footers in the batch.

Joshua was hesitant about the waves from the beginning, but Michael and Joshua approached headfirst and with fire. The warning flags were up and the currents were strong, so we stayed right along the shoreline, but our proximity to the sand did not diminish our enjoyment one bit. Great Grandma and Grandpa soon took up residence in chairs and enjoyed reading together, and Jacob warmed quickly to Grandma Turner who played with him in the sand, building castles and mud-fish who were swept out to see when the surf crashed particularly far in. I regret not having photos, for it was a spectacular experience. The raw power of the ocean, the forces of nature at work were wondrous and humbling as we stood looking at across the seemingly endless, churning, cresting expanse. Michael and I, alone, lasted the entire visit in the surf, many times being knocked right over and pushed several yards as the waves crashed in up on us. Michael quickly learned how to brace himself against the riptide as it returned from off the beach, and only once or twice did his Dad lunge forward to ensure he was not pulled farther than was safe.

It was truly inspiring for this Dad to feel the blast of the water and the freshness of the spray and to ponder on the awesome creations of our God. While I truly believe that man is His supreme creation, I marvel in the creations to whose power we must bend, even at our mightiest. As I surged into cresting waves and battled forces that rocked my being, I understood, in an instant, how the ancients anthropomorphized the behaviour of nature, how they assigned personalities to the times and seasons, and how they respected and honored the Gods that, in their beliefs, controlled the movements of the earth. Do we, in our belief system(s), continue to honor our God for his creations outside our own immediate realm, and respect them as awesome and mighty powers?

We returned home with happy faces, incredible memories, and sand in every last little nook and cranny on our bodies. We enjoyed an evening of relaxed family fun and conversation. It was joy to hear of Mom and Dads life as it has unfolded here in Florida; a new chapter is always exciting. The boys planted a new pineapple plant with Grandma in the yard, and they're hoping to be able to come back and see it fruit in another couple of years.

The Sabbath was beautiful. As we enjoyed the invocation in Sacrament Meeting, I felt overcome by the Spirit; it was rather unprompted, and I'm still not sure why it came, but I cherish the thought that my Father was allowing me a moment of peace and repose. I don't think I'm the only one who felt it either, for as I began to ponder on it, the man offering the invocation paused, then continued in a voice obviously touched in the same way that I had been. What connected us in that instant I know not, but I will not question; I will merely cherish and treasure a moment of clarity and truth.

Because it's the second week of June, and we won't be here next week, we created a bit of an early Father's Day celebration with Grandpa Turner and Great Grandpa Liscom. We were four generations gathered together in good food, laughter, and the return of an old Turner Family tradition: Dad's giant ice cream sundae. The boys enjoyed a little scripture movie, and the six adults settled in for some good, old-fashioned game time. Interestingly, this is the first time Liz and I have enjoyed the company of Grandma and Grandpa Liscom, socially, since we married. Once, they stopped by our house in Indiana, unannounced, and we were so surprised and our house was in the middle of being painted, that I'm afraid it was not one for the record books. It was so wonderful for this in-law to be among the family of his wife, to see the adults interact, to get to know them in ways that we've never before been afforded.

Because we've spent most of our married life far away from family, our own family has not had the privilege of getting to know the Turners but in glimpses, quick notes, and too-soon-ended vacations. While this weekend has been another of those quick and soon gone experiences, it seems to me that so much experience has been packed into so little time, as though the passage of that time were not proportionate to the fellowship and love shared among us. It has been a delight to work alongside Mom as we washed dishes, and chat with Dad before bedtime and be in their home and feel of their love for us. I regret that so many miles and such busy lives have created such distance among family members, but my heart leaps with joy at how a few short hours can fill so many missed moments so efficiently.

Tomorrow we begin the part of our vacation that is just for us; no family visits, no preplanned adventures, just the five of us, together. So far it looks like a week of scattered thunderstorms and 90+˚ weather. And we're staying in a tent. So, should you get a chance, say a little prayer for us, and we'll keep our heads up and our hearts open.