This story is not about Beaufort, although it certainly could be.
Beaufort, NC, is a coastal town, and when describing it, words like picturesque, quaint, and charming immediately come to mind. It’s absolutely story material, and maybe — probably — someday I will write about it, but not today. Today, I’m writing about a cast of characters who descended on this picturesque, quaint, charming town for a few days in September, but really, Beaufort is just a backdrop for the story; it wouldn’t have played out much differently if the group had ended up in Anytown.
I, of course, am one of the characters (it’s my column, so I sorta, kinda had to be there). My sister, Deb, planned the get-together, and set all the wheels in motion to make it happen. (First note: When younger, my sister went by “Debbie,” and that’s what people from our childhood still call her. As an adult, she decided she liked “Deborah” better, so that’s how friends from later years know her. Because I am her older sister, I know what’s best for her, including regarding her name — and I think “Deb” is best, so I stick with that.) Our mom, and two of Mom’s sisters, Vi and Sharron, rounded out the cast. (Second note: No one should ever call my aunt “Vi.” Her name is Virgie, and that is what she prefers to be called. I, however, call her “Vi,” or sometimes “Virene,” and have done so for so many years that I’ve worn her down and she graciously accepts it. But that’s coming from me and a few select others; I wouldn’t recommend it for the general public.)
Obviously, we’ve been in each other’s lives forever, creating a whole web of interrelated relationships. Individually and together, we’ve been there for one another through the toughest times, we’ve celebrated together during the best of times, and — let’s be honest — we’ve had our fair share of spats and scraps and misunderstandings along the way (what family hasn’t?) but we’ve always found our way back to one another.
We’ve also walked together through the mundaneness that is everyday life. Because, let’s face it, that’s most of what life is — an ordinary, day-to-day, take-out-the-trash, what-am-I-gonna-have-for-dinner? existence. And one of the things I most appreciate about my family is the degree to which “mundane” is never really mundane because we all have a tendency to find humor in the tiniest of situations.
A lot of our time in Beaufort was spent taking the inevitable trips down memory lane. That’s just what you do when you gather with people you’ve spent your entire life with. You remember the time… The time Sharron and I pulled off the great ham heist of ’85 at a family reunion. The time Vi and I were inadvisably let loose with a CB radio (yes, folks, it was that long ago!) and adopted a most unlikely handle (CB lingo for nickname), Lenny and the Squigtones. The time Sharron, Deb and I shared a bedroom an entire summer and “organized” our clothes by tossing them into piles on the floor, through which we all plundered when getting dressed to go out.
Of course, getting together isn’t all about re-living the past. It’s about creating new memories that we’ll be laughing about the next time we gather. From our Beaufort trip, we’ll remember the time…The time, while shopping, that Mom disappeared into a dressing room to try on a top and reappeared a few minutes later, parading around the store wearing her shirt backwards. The time we were in a tapas restaurant, and Vi, with a very fashionable pair of sunglasses dangling from a strap around her neck, managed to drop a large dollop of pimiento cheese onto one of the lenses — and remained completely oblivious. The time (in yet another restaurant) when, even after our waiter had explained to us what “airline chicken” was, we were still so confused that Sharron valiantly took one for the team and ordered the mysterious menu item so we could see it for ourselves. (Are we the only ones who’d never heard of airline chicken? Just in case someone else is wondering: It’s a way of presenting a boneless chicken breast, with a drumette still attached.)
So, yes, Beaufort is picturesque. And it’s quaint and charming. And someday I’ll write about it. But this one was for Mom and Deb and Vi and Sharron. And for all the people that help make our lives a little less mundane and our travels a lot more memorable.
Next week: How did I not know about this Onslow County treasure?
