“Hold on! I need to make sure I brought…”

My husband stopped me before my feet hit the driveway. 

“Get back in the car. I can tell you right now there’s nothing left in the house. You packed it all!” 

While we said we were going to abandon the U-Haul and take a minimisist approach this year—he’s not far from wrong.

I’ll admit, I’m a zealous packer. Somewhere in the depths of our locked and loaded mothership ready to set sail down NC 220 to a big blue house by the sea, are two folding tables—one for kids, one for crabs, a treasure chest filled with worthy booty for ages three to ten, and a potty chair to carry down to the beach. I know! But our youngest grandson is on a roll with potty training and we are committed to his success! 

Also, joining us will be my three must-have pillows. My husband declined his pillow. He’ll just find himself a piece of driftwood. Honestly, the man could fall asleep on the head of a pin. 

When I went to grab our bags upstairs, I discovered he had pulled out four pair of shorts. Knowing that he only has six pair to his name, I could see that he was still committed to the minimalist idea. He doesn’t know it yet, but I stuck two back in his bag. He can thank me later. 

As always, we have big plans for our annual family beach trip, and big plans call for big packing. 

Thankfully, after forty-three years of marriage we’ve learned a little about what we really need and what we can do without.

If we can find any, we will pack what’s left of our youth. Surely there’s still some remnant of the old energy scattered around here somewhere. We will gather what we can and use it for treasure hunts and late night conversations with our grown kids. (Back home we declare anything after 8pm a legal bedtime.)

We will leave behind our stuck-in-the-mud routines and prove to ourselves we are more adventurous than our land-locked habits would suggest. 

We will wake early and sit on the wide covered deck in strange chairs and drink out of unfamiliar coffee mugs while we watch the shrimp boats head out to their own morning mercies. 

We will grab the Sonos speaker I mindfully crammed into the last remaining spot behind the drivers seat, turn up the music, and give our grandchildren the memory of dancing by the ocean with their grandparents. 

We will bring along time, attention, open minds, kindness, patience, and prayers. 

We will leave behind inflexibility, over-worked to-do lists, and unreasonable expectations. 

And above all, we will be sure to pack the one thing we know we can not do without…

Advil. We will definitly pack Advil.