Final Project
Age 6
“Emily, honey, we need to leave. We have to be there by
7:00am if you want to be part of the swim competition!” my
mom called up the stairs as we were getting ready for
swimming lessons once again. Every week day, for the eight
weeks of summer, I went to swimming lessons at 7:00am.
While 6 year old me didn’t think anything of it, as everybody
else was also doing the same thing, it was not normal for kids
to go to swimming lessons 5 days a week at 7am. It was a
Westhampton Beach thing, a small quaint beach town thing.
I was a great swimmer already, level 3 out of 7, and I was not
afraid to dive to the bottom and swim in the deep-end. I was
not afraid of the water-- I never cried and I never complained.
Swimming was my thing, it was my safety net. Something about
swimming through the water made me feel invincible.
After swim lessons every day we would walk the 3 minutes down to grandma’s beach house. 211 Dune Road-- the place of Slurpee’s, 10 excited grandchildren, and my grandma and grandpa. The beach house was more of a home than my house was in the summer, we swam and laughed and got thrown into the pool by my strongest uncle. I spent every day splashing around and begging my grandpa to take me down to the beach.
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I was the only one that my grandpa ever really took down to the beach. I think it was because even as a 6 year old, I listened. I listened to his stories, his directions, and his laughter. The alone time with my grandpa was what
made me want to go to the beach. I was never scared
with my grandpa. He taught me that the water was my
friend early on-- he was the first one who ever took
me into the pool. The times I spent in the ocean and
at the beach, just me and my grandpa, are my fondest
memories of my childhood.
“Em, would you like to go to the beach? You can’t
tell the others” he would say. “Yes! Yes! Yes” I would
respond.
I would like to thank my grandpa, for what he
has done for me-- his beach house, his love, and his
fearlessness. The ocean has been my friend since a
young age, and it will remain my friend for the rest of
my life.
“Freedom, Emily. The ocean is freedom” he said as we swam together. While I did not realize it at the time, the ocean is freedom-- the freedom to swim, the freedom to think for yourself, and the freedom to listen.
Age 13
If I could reflect on the most unsure time if my life, the time I felt the least confident, it would be age thirteen. My life was changing, I was becoming a "woman" and I was entering high school.
It was this year that my grandparents sold their beach house,
I stopped swimming lessons, and I only wanted to spend
time with my friends. I strived to be cool, not that I was,
but I sure as hell wanted to be. I regret the times I didn't go
to my grandparent's house before it was sold. I thought I was
too cool, I had to go to the local beach, Jetty 4, where all my
friends were. I might miss something if I didn't. My biggest
regret of childhood is not valuing the beach house before it
was gone. I miss it today, I actually miss it all the time, but I
have also made new memories along Dune Road. Jetty 4
was my new beach home with different experiences and
milestones.
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Right down the road from my grandparent's house laid
Jetty 4. I went there every week day from age 11-17. It was
my family's beach spot that allowed everybody to be happy-- my mom could hang out with her friends, my sisters had their friends, and I had my friends. I also had the ocean, which I still consider my best friend to this day. It offered me a stability that other things couldn't especially at a time of need. Each day at Jetty 4 was the same: get there at 9am, swim for an hour, play in the sand, reapply sunscreen, swim, eat lunch, play cards, play, swim, eat a snack, go home for dinner. It wasn't until the end of the summer that Jetty 4 became a part of my identity, just like my grandparent's house had years before.
It was one day at the end of the summer, the lifeguards were hanging around as there wasn't a wave in the ocean. "Can I go in alone yet" I asked my mom as I remembered each day she promised by the end of the summer I would get to swim alone.
"Not yet, honey. Not yet."
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It was that day that I sat around not enjoying myself. I wanted to go in the ocean by myself. It had lost its excitement, I was always swimming with my mom and the freedom I had felt when I was younger disappeared. I longed for the opportunity to be alone.
It was time to go, and my mom hadn't said anything
about me going in at all. I figured that I shouldn't ask
again, she was going to say no. I was disappointed,
and mad at the beach. I think my anger was irrational,
it was not the beaches or the oceans fault, but
somehowI decided it was.
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"Ok Em, go hop in the ocean quick" said my mom.
What? She wanted me to go in?
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"Wait, really?" I asked as I was already running towards
the ocean.
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I only had 3 minutes in the ocean before my mom had
finished packing up and it was time to go. I could see
her smiling from the shore. I didn't even go in far, but
just far enough that I felt like I was swimming alone.
Thinking about it now, I never felt more freedom in my
life. It was me with the ocean, my thoughts, and my
excitement didn't cease.
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That day the ocean meant more to me than before, it was the first thing that I had wanted so badly I could barely breathe. It knocked me down, it picked me up, and it taught me to be safe and trust my instincts.
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The first person I told when I returned home was my grandpa.
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"I told you Em, your mom was going to let you. You are my little swimmer aren't you" he said as we ate dinner that night.
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Yes, Grandpa, I am your little swimmer.
Age 21
“So Em, your mom tells me you got some offers for summer jobs. Where are you going to live?” my grandpa asked me on the phone this past winter.
“Home! I am going to be in NYC but I am going to live at home” I replied.
“Ahhhh, back at the beach. I know how you love the beach Em” my grandpa said.
The beach means something different to me today. It means that I am home, free, and comfortable. It is the place where I took my first steps. It is the place where I realized that I could swim alone, freely. It is the place that I took my graduation pictures and the place I hope to have my wedding someday.
While I love Michigan, and loved living in Croatia last summer, all for different reasons, the beach is my home. New York beaches are my home. I look back in fondness of all of the experiences I had at the beach, and in my town, and want the same for my future children.
I will be back in New York for the rest of my life if I can help it, living in Westhampton and teaching my kids how to swim at the same pool I learned.
The beach has brought my sanctity when I was lost, and happiness when I was reaching pivotal moments of my life.
My grandpa, the ocean, my mom, my family, and my friends are all represented by the beach. I am home at the beaches on Dune Road.
I love you Dune Road, I love you Westhampton Beach, and I love you mighty ocean.
