A perfect storm...I do love a perfect storm, as do most people who are spectators.  There's something about seeking shelter and watching nature thrashing about angrily; then gradually the world comes back to its supreme balance.  We had a perfect storm in Coastal NC on Saturday, right after we arrived home from a great day at the beach. 

It was a classic day on the coast, the kind that stops time.  My nieces, ages 4 and 7, were excited about doing all the typical beachy things, and we did!  We built a sandcastle, jumped waves, looked for shells and sharks teeth, and just relaxed.  As the afternoon wore on we noticed the wind beginning to whip up the sand and the big billowy clouds getting thicker and darker.  Not wanting to leave, but knowing the urgency, we picked up our equipment and headed inland.

Traveling on highway 24 we stopped along the way home at the local seafood shop, which is iconic, and I will have to tell you of this treasure later.  Scallops were on our dinner menu.  I couldn't resist snapping a picture of the girls, their hair wild with abandon lingering at the water's edge where the shrimp boats jutted around on the angry water.  The girls did not seem alarmed in the least bit; too young to be aware of the approaching danger. 

While I made a satisfying dinner of shrimp and scallops, the girls played happily, while the torrential downpour occurred outside.  It was a fantastic evening.  Good times with family, good food, and the perfect storm.

Most parents are amazed by their children.  I know it is natural for us all to feel this way.  You watch your children blossom as they grow, and you're in awe of everything they accomplish in life.  Once they become an adult, and I use this term loosely, you try to set them free.  You offer assistance when you can, but, and you secretly hope, they don't need it.  Each of my three children have made their own accomplishments in this world.  I am proud of each of them equally, but am currently amazed at what my daughter has achieved in her short life.  She is a young woman of 20; soon to be 21.

Her love of softball was apparent early on.  She played the sport all through her young life and it consumed our every waking moment at one point.  I love the sport, as well, so it was a positive obsession from my point of view.  When she played on her high school team we talked about her playing at college, but she wanted to focus more on her studies.  I wondered if we had seen the last of her softball days?

Instead her path has taken her in a different direction.  For the second year, she is coaching a 10U (fast pitch) softball team.  She has nurtured each one of these girls and helped them learn the basic fundamentals of the sport.  The girls have blossomed into wonderful players under her tutelage.  They look up to her, as do I.  I am amazed at how much information on the sport she actually absorbed and retained and has shared with this generation of players.  She not only shows them what to do, how to play, but how to correct their mistakes in pitching, batting, and playing the field.  AND she makes it fun!  I am proud of who she has become, but I am still in awe.

The girls had their end of season party at the river beach here in Stella.  I wasn't sure how they would react to our little place in the world.  I find it wonderful and relaxing, but when you have the Crystal Coast Beaches right at your doorstep, what else would you want.  Those girls played and played and played in the river.  They had the time of their life and did not want to leave.  Even after their parents had to drag them from the river they still begged to stay.   Simple pleasures.  

We recently had the unique opportunity to have dinner with a group of "old" Marines who fought in the battle of Iwo Jima.  Their reunion was scheduled to meet at the Cherry Point Air Show.  Although I use the term elderly to describe these men, the glint in their eyes and the stories they recall shed a whole new light on a previous life they endured.  They epitomize what "proud to be an American" means.  My husband's Uncle John D'Addamio is no longer with us, but he lives on in spirit through these men, the Corps, and anyone proud to call themselves American.