I can’t believe that it’s been almost two years since we moved from Pennsylvania to Florida. I’ve written quite a bit about our sudden decision to move, and my struggle with adapting to life so far away from friends and family. I had never even set foot in Delray Beach before we sold our house and started to make our way South. Despite the stark contrast between our life in Philadelphia and our life in South Florida, one thing was familiar to me: the beach. I grew up spending my summers in Cape May, New Jersey (another small beach town 1,192 miles away from here). For the month or so we would spend at the beach every summer, life was just simpler. Those days blur together in my mind as an endless stretch of sunshine, miniature golf, novels, and happy hours on the porch with my mom’s side of the family. Even though I’m a thousand miles away from where I grew up, it’s comforting to go to the beach and watch the waves of the same ocean crashing on a different shore. You’d think that I’d get to the beach more, given that we live a mile from it, but it’s still a treat to be able to fit in a few hours at the beach on a weekend. When we have time, Andrew and I like to grab our cocktails on Sunday evenings and walk Layla up to the dog beach to sit and watch the waves for a while, and bid farewell to the weekend. It’s during these hours with Andrew and Layla that I feel most at home in this (still) strange place.
Get the look: