Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Again, with the modesty.

I just read the most beautiful post I have read in a long, long time. In Beach Baby, Melissa M. describes a sequence of beach-memories beginning with her childhood. As a seven year old, she gathers shells, encounters stranded stingrays, and walks down the beach hand-in-hand with her grandfather. As a teenager, she gets sunburnt while reading Jane Austen and mooning over a boy. Then she's a honey-mooning newlywed, a young mother, and finally a mother with growing and almost-grown children.

Exquisite. A gut-wrenchingly beautiful read for me as I fight an almost constant yen for Someplace Else and a wish that escaping to a beach was a lot closer than a days drive. And it was an interesting look at life's progression and time marching on. (Just this morning I was musing that in one week, Brandon and I will have been married for seven years and how that's equivalent to high school and college. But these seven years have passed by a lot more quickly than high school or college did alone.)


One of the commenters asked about her honeymoon bikini: Why did she think she should wear one? Just because she was now married, she didn't need to be modest anymore?


Good feelings gone. (Dori, Finding Nemo)


Lorraine said...

hahaha. How are you? I really am missing morning walking.

jamesrivergirl said...

I'm good. We went to the temple tonight and I saw a Minerva Teichert of Christ in a red robe and I love that painting. And it made me think that He covers everyone, even honey-moon haters. I felt guilty for being judgemental about someone else being judgemental. It was a little dose of humility for me.

Anyway, I bought you something at Walmart the other day. Hope I got it right. We'll see when you get back. Are you staying for August too?

LINDSEY said...

I read the Segullah post, and you're right--it is beautiful. And the swimsuit comment sort of makes me want to go out and buy a bikini. I won't, but... I second your "REALLY???" motion. And I admire your guilt and insight about judging someone who's judging. You're so great, Carrie. My life is only better for knowing you.