(Written on October 13, 2011 from the balcony of Embassy Suites at Kingston Plantation)
The Earth is the Lord’s and all its fullness,The world and those who dwell therein. For He has founded it upon the seas, And established it upon the waters.
Psalm 24: 1,2
As I sit here on the 18th floor balcony, watching the sun rise over the Atlantic Ocean on this beautiful October morning, I thank God for the blessing of this two-day respite from our day-to-day activities. I never come to the beach without being reminded of the magnificence of our God who has created such a universe. And I wonder how anyone could ever doubt His almighty hand in its design.
SS has had meetings to attend during the day, but we have had such fun eating out and shopping in the evenings. Last night I “almost” talked SS into letting us sleep with the sliding glass doors in the bedroom wide open, with the breezes blowing over us and the waves crashing on the shore lulling us to sleep. I think he was worried about security as much as anything else, so by the time I was drifting off to sleep, I heard the doors being quietly closed.
Embassy Suites has a very nice, as well as free, breakfast buffet every morning, which I really enjoyed! As I was eating some honeydew melon this morning, SS and I couldn’t help but think about one of our most endearing “Mommas memories.” The last year of her life when she was living along, unable to drive, we would do anything to provide whatever she wanted, which was never very much. But sometimes, she would have a “taste” for something, and when she did we were happy to get whatever she wanted. During the winter, though she called one time and said, “Shug (her term of endearment for us, short for Sugar, I think), I have a taste for honeydew melon.” Now it was very difficult back then to find honeydew melon in the winter, but if Mommas had a taste for it, we wanted to provide it. It really took some searching to come up with one. Since then, we’ve had a little understanding that if one of us said we had a “taste” for something, there was no questioning that we had to get it.
But that whole conversation made me think about how “Shug” was such a part of Mommas’ vocabulary, and how I might ought to try to use it with my grandsons, as well as my daughters and sister, to carry on the tradition. Would it sound unnatural coming from me? I think I may give it a try.
With love to all my Pamela’s girls, Shugs, have a wonderful week with safe travels
Love from Cici
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