THERE AND BACK

I have been to Florida and survived. In fact, I quite possibly thrived…at least if my measure of ice cream consumption is any indicator. For all my pre-trip whining and grumbling, all the contumelious remarks, the Sunshine State proved charming and its inhabitants friendly, gracious, welcoming.

Lacy & Dave…before.

As most of you probably know, I braved sunburn and palmetto bugs to visit this sub-tropical sandbox and celebrate with my daughter, Lacy, and Dave, her husband, an alfresco reaffirmation of their wedding vows. The ceremony, held beachside in Anastasia State Park, was lovely and moving; the banquet afterwards, in the intimate Cordova Room of the spectacular old Casa Monica Hotel in St. Augustine, was scrumptious.

Ceremony on the beach.

Yet in the end, it’s not the beautiful settings, all the luxury and exquisite appointments, or even the observance and ritual that matters—it’s the people. Nothing beats family and friends; people are ultimately life’s greatest blessing. Without reservation, I can say that my daughter not only married a fine man, she married into a wonderful family. Folks who know how to have fun, take great joy in sharing, and instantly opened both their home and hearts.

Lacy & Dave…afterwards.

Of course, all the while, I couldn’t help but wonder how my little riverbank world was faring. It had been raining as we left. Was the water high—if so, how high? Was my goose being fed, and the woodpeckers and finches and all the rest of the feathered gang? Were the squirrels getting away with murder, stealing all the sunflower seeds, gnawing into the repair storage barrels? And my newly-planted seeds…were they up? Lacy, Dave, Dave’s father, Rich, and I had made the drive south. Now Dave and Lacy were off to Jamaica for a week’s “honeymoon” in the sun, and it was just Rich and I making the return trip. At some point I recalled that Dave Dudley hit from the early-1960s, “Six Days On the Road,” which recounts how a lonely trucker was excitedly looking forward to returning home. In our case it would be four days in Florida with a 14-hour drive day capping either end. Not as much road time and miles, perhaps, but still enough that I think both of us were anxious to get back. Florida was nice. The reaffirmation ceremony was lovely. And I’ve never been around warmer, nicer people. Still, as a wise young traveler named Dorothy once said, “There’s no place like home.”