Tradition... the things we bring from our childhood to share with our own children... is what brings us back to Old Orchard Beach once a year. As soon as we exit the highway, I can see in his eyes life coming full circle. The stories start. He points out special places they went when he was a child. We eat the same foods - the pier fries, Bill's pizza... sometimes he laments how the pizza might not be as good, but the fries. Man, the fries are always as good as he remembers. The kids call it the festival. We go, and even though we are all blinded by sensory overload we play skee ball, ride the bumper cars {this year might have been my first time!}, and dance in the sand as the sun goes down and the lights on the ferris wheel illuminate the night. His memories fuel our tradition, and sometimes we create our own amid the nostalgia of years past.... my girl and I went on the ferris wheel, and her face was worth the trip entirely. Another thing added to the permanent summer bucket list.
Here's to tradition...
{that moment when she said
"Mom, what if we get stuck up here!"
when they stopped for us to take in the view...}
{proof, he ate Bill's Pizza, sauce and all!}
