On Sunday, a bunch of my girlfriends and I met up on the beach for a full day of sand, sunshine and saltwater.
We planned this day a month in advance. Schedules were checked. Babysitters were called. Husbands were told. A list of mandatory supplies was given out via group text.
Orange Juice? Check.
(As you can see, our priorities were in order.)
We gathered on the beach bright and early (8:30am early) and formed our usual semi-circle of backpack beach chairs. Flat sheets laid out perfectly, flip-flops dotted the corners, coolers snuggled between beach chairs, we had secured our spot on the beach. Once the scene was set, the sunscreen applied and the mimosas poured, we settled into our chairs for what turned out to be the most epic beach day.
10 years ago, we wouldn’t have been this organized. We would’ve moseyed on down to the beach, sunglasses firmly secured on our face to hide the previous night’s activities. There was no group text back then; we knew where to find one another if the weather called for a beach day.
10 years later, we hit the beach bright-eyed and bushy tailed… trucking beach chairs, umbrellas, bags of food and coolers of drinks… 8:30am set up, settled by 9am. We were pros.
At first, time seemed to stand still. The beach was quiet; the “tourists” were still sleeping and we were enjoying every minute of the empty beach. We sipped on our iced coffees, shoveled bagels into our mouths, and soaked in the sunshine. Even though we chat every day via group text, it is rare these days that we come together as a group. If it’s not one thing, it’s another, and someone is always missing out of the bunch. But on this epic beach day, everyone was present. Phones were tucked away and we were all living in the moment, and enjoying one another’s company.
I took a look around at all these amazing women, each one of us at different stages in our lives. To think that 10 years ago, we were just a bunch of 20-somethings, hanging out at each other’s apartments in Long Beach, trying to figure out what bar to go to next. We reminisced about those years, laughed until our eyes filled with tears, and soaked in the time spent together.
As the sun set over the city of Long Beach, I teared up thinking about our day at the beach. It was one of those rare days, where you forget about life for a while. Feet firmly planted in the sand, a bottle of wine uncorked, we sat and watched as the last rays of sunshine fell behind the buildings. Even though the day was over, this was just another memory to add to the list, a list that keeps on growing and growing with no end in sight.