Hand in Hand

My first recollection of going to the beach was when I was four years old. Momma started weeks in advance, building our excitement. She tried describing the beach and ocean to us. All I could manage to envision was a lake with white dirt instead of the red clay that surrounded the one I grew up with. Before the trip, she took us to K-mart and bought us all new underwear. She told us if we happened to be in an accident before we got there, we would have new underwear to wear to the hospital. She bought me some that had the days of the week on the front. I suppose it was for her to tell if I had changed them or not. If that be the case, my brothers needed them far worse than I. The day finally came. Momma made us all take a bath put and on a new pair of underwear. I put on the ones that said Saturday since that was the day we were leaving. We brushed our teeth, combed our hair and sat in the house until daddy got home. We couldn’t go outside and run the risk of getting dirty.  I never understood the fuss but I was glad to smell soap on my brothers. 

With my new coloring book and crayons I climbed into our 1953 Chevrolet. My four brothers would all be crammed into the backseat while I sat in between momma and daddy in the front. No seat belts were required so we could easily climb from the back seat to the front while going down the road. After I had finished the first page of coloring I looked up at daddy and said, "How much farther is it daddy?" We have a long, long, way to go honey just keep coloring.  After coloring three or so pages and asking the same question again, Daddy asked momma if she had anything else to help keep me occupied. She gave me a butter scotch. I gave up on ever seeing the ocean and went to sleep. Daddy made the turn down what was then called A1A going toward Melbourne, Florida. Momma was the first to get a glimpse of the ocean. "Look at that, kids. There's the ocean."  We stopped our fighting and got up on our knees to see what momma was having the fit over. It was more than my eyes or mind could take in. It was so massive that it frightened me. What made it worse was that I couldn't see the end of it. It was a whole lot bigger than Lake Allatoona. I could see what looked like the beginning but there was no end. It seemed to be reaching out for me with every wave. The sky reached down and touched it somehow.  What kept it contained? What stopped it from washing over and flooding the earth?  I asked one question after another. Momma answered patiently at first, but finally growing weary she said, "Phyllis, it is that way because that is the way God made it." Some things you just have things you have to accept in faith? That only made me want to ask what faith was but Momma had always told me that Gods word was final and so that was the end of it. 

When we got to our little motel, momma got me dressed for my first swim in the ocean. I stepped out onto the sand and would not walk any closer to the monster. After much pleading, I inched closer not because I trusted the monster but I trusted my momma. I stuck my toes into the cold water and recoiled back and ran back to the safety if the sand. She and daddy stood in it calling me back in.  She promised that she would hold my hand tight and I would be fine. I went forward, trusting her. She held one hand and daddy held the other. Here it comes she cried.  As the first cold wave smacked me square in the face, taking my breath away.  I got my first tasted of salt water and I screamed as it stung my eyes. They taught me to close my eyes and hold my breath when I saw the next wave coming. It took a little bit of practice to get my timing down but soon I got the hang of it. Next time the wave came I was prepared.


46 years later I decided to take momma and daddy to the beach. When I told them all of the plans, “I've never been to Tybee Island” momma said, “what's it like?” I tried to explain, but I wasn't sure she was getting the full picture. The next day she called me and said she had been to Wal-Mart. She got some new underwear for both she and daddy. I didn't ask if they had the days of the week on the front however, I did ask why she got new underwear just to go to the beach. She said, "Well you never can tell what could happen." I left it at that.

The day finally came for us to go. Daddy climbed into the front with me.  I was glad that he smelled like soap. Momma crawled into the back seat with my youngest daughter.  Brianna keeps her company singing every June Carter and Johnny Cash song there is.  Momma does a pretty good job on, ‘Daddy Sings Base.’   After about an hour of being on the road, daddy asked “how much farther do we have?”  I've never been to Tybee Island. Our neighbor has been and he said it doesn't take that long. I explained to him that we still had a ways to go but it would not be like going to Florida. When momma began asking I gave her a mint. Not long after they fell asleep.

Momma saw the sign first that said Tybee Island. She squealed with excitement when she caught a glimpse of the ocean. We dropped off our luggage at the rental house and headed for the beach. She, Brianna and I stood there looking out over the massive ocean that once frightened me. "Momma,” I called, “Come stick your feet into the water with me." “No. I am afraid," she said. After much coaxing and pleading she walked slowly forward. “I am afraid I will get knocked down” she worried.  “No, it won't momma. I am here and I promise to hold your hand. I will not let you fall.” I took one hand while my daughter Brianna took the other. "Here it comes," I said. She screamed as the cold water rushed over her feet. She wanted to go back to the safety of the sand. “You can do it momma we have you.”

It was then that the memory of my first swim in the ocean came rushing in like the wave that was sweeping over our feet. I thought about the many times momma had dried the salty tears from my eyes and helped be back on my feet when one of life's waves had knocked the breath out of me. She has always been the one that helped me face my fears and encourage me to get up and try it again. This time I was helping momma face hers. She stood holding my hand trusting that I would not let her fall. There we stood looking out to where the ocean touches the sky. 

Many of my childhood questions have been answered along the way. However, I still have plenty to ask Jesus when I see Him. One of them being, “Why is it that we spend most of our life growing up only to become like a child again?”  For the rest of them, I will have just have to accept that God knows what He is doing. Until then, I will hold to his hand and trust Him, while momma holds to mine. We will face the things that frighten us together knowing that He will not let us fall, when the waves of life smacks us in the face.

Just sayin'

Phyllis Westland