Last Rites of Summer

Kevin was off on Saturday, so we left the dishes in the sink and the Cheerios ground in the rug for a road trip to Gulf Island Water Park in Gulfport, Mississippi. After seeing pictures of Paul and Holly's kids relishing being sprayed by water-spouting frogs, I felt the urge to go to a water park. I've never felt such an urge in my 32 years. Yes, this was my first time.

It was one of those magical days. The kids really enjoyed the ride (Tip to parents: stop at rest areas for scaled-down, easy to read maps with lots of graphics. Insist your independent preschooler tell you which way to go. Curtails the tendency for 'are we there yet?' when you are the one asking your child...). The water park was a blast: enormous floating donuts circling the park via the Lazy River, and a hodge-podge of amusements just perfect for Ana and Elliot. Both of them clad in their "Hulk Hogan suits" (as Erin calls them), we could relax knowing they would keep their heads above water. Elliot is a kamikaze, and this suit is a real blessing, as he will go underwater, mouth in a wide-open smile, laughing the whole time as we are panicking and screaming. We were out there for 5 hours, going down water slides, and having a blast.

After a quick stop at the Gulfport outlet mall, we were on the road home. The kids quickly fell asleep, and Kevin and I opted for the "long way" via Long Beach and Bay St. Louis, along the devastated beach front roads. Long empty stretches were pretty depressing, with nothing but slabs where we remembered old beachfront homes. As we ambled toward Bay St. Louis, we were routed away from the road. After a quick discussion, we decided to make our way back to the beachfront road as the sun was setting. As a child, Kevin and his family spent their summers in Bay St. Louis, and he has many memories associated with its haunts. Since Katrina, we've wandered through there. We were just checking in again.

After the depressing ride through Long Beach, we expected more of the same in Bay St. Louis, but were pleasantly surprised to find people milling about in the streets, eating ice cream, playing music, sipping iced tea in jam jars...there were gypsies (yes, really), and galleries with doors wide-open, and amorous couples groping in the dark, and children up too late, and loud laughter...the kind of night where you expect to find a glass jars of fireflies lighting the porches.

Bay St. Louis. The resiliency and beauty of people is there if you dust away the rubble. Their story is our story too...We stopped at the Mockingbird Cafe (our first attempt to join the ice cream crowd was thwarted by the 8 o'clock closure of the Buttercup) for iced coffee for the last leg of the journey. I stayed in the car with the kids, insisting Kevin find out if this "happens every Saturday? or is something special happening tonight?" And sure enough, every second Saturday there's a "block party." And that's where I'll be on October 13th. Let me know if any of you are up for a road trip.