A known fact of life is that
change is inevitable. If there is one thing that my honey always gives me a
hard time about is that I am so resistant to change. I know this. I like
everything in order and routine. Unless of course I decide to change it, then I
am ready and open to a change.
Here is where I am going with
this, more so than any other grandchild, I spent a lot of time with my
grandparents at their home in Naples, Florida. I loved it there. I would spend
weeks there in the summer or spring break. We did a lot of fun things but the
most fun I had was when they would drop me off at the Port Royal Club for the
day. Everyone that worked there knew who I was so I guess I had a staff of
built in babysitters. All I had to do was sign for my meals and whatever else I
wanted. I was grown up (along with a few other kids) and had run of the place
all day every day. Glorious!!! If I close my eyes I can still go back there.
The white sand private beaches and the Olympic size pool by the sea. Grill to
order hamburgers with Charles Chips for lunch and a seafood buffet on Friday
night that was worthy of royalty with ice sculptures and piles of shrimp and
lobster tails a mile high.
The streets of her
neighborhood were immaculate, lined with palm trees and perfectly maintained
yards. Every home in her neighborhood was on the water. Canals were dug off the
intercostal waterway at Gordon Pass and every house had a boat docked. Some
were small yachts and some were retired folk fishing boats. The concept of this
development was based on pirates. Port Royal – a haven for pirates in the Caribbean
for about 200 years. Blackbeard loved it. All the streets are named accordingly…
Galleon Drive, Gin Lane, Rum Row, Kingstown Drive and so on. The main entrance
was directly across from the club, down Kingstown Drive and her street was Gin
Lane. I would say her house was about a mile from the entrance. When I was
about 8 years old and living in Naples, I would take the bus to Granny’s house
after school. For some reason the school bus was not allowed to go into the
neighborhood so they would drop me off at the entrance. Granny was supposed to
be waiting for me in the car … but most of the time she wasn’t there. Probably
because she wasn’t used to that chore and forgot. So I would get off the bus
and walk to her friends house which was much closer and actually across the
channel from her house. Mr. & Mrs. Bee would always be home and welcome
their young visitor with cookies and milk. Granny would come get me whenever
she took a notion to or they would drive me to her house when they had to go
somewhere. That is when Granny had the genius idea of providing me with my own
mode of transportation… a bicycle. She would make my grandfather take it to the
entrance when he went walking and park it behind a palm tree so when I got off
the bus I wouldn’t bother her friends because I was too lazy to walk a mile to
her house. And that eliminated the need for her to remember to pick me up. I
think I may have been the first latch key kid in that neighborhood. If they weren’t
home I would climb over the small wall between the garage and the laundry room
and there was a key under the mat to that door. I loved it when they weren’t home
because I would help myself to the bread box or pantry which always had an
ample supply of goldfish. Like they wouldn’t know who ate them. I treasure my time
in Naples. It is the one part of my childhood I look back on and smile about. I
remember it from when I was 4 or 5 years old on up into my early 30’s. My last
visit there I was 30 years old and probably about 2-3 months pregnant with my
daughter. No one knew I was pregnant and I wasn’t about to broadcast it on that
visit. I remember having such terrible back pain and spasms. I had pulled
something years earlier and it would act up from time to time and this time I
was miserable. While we were there my aunt decided we should go to the club and
get a massage. I don’t know who that sweet woman was that worked on me but she
fixed my back. And when I say she fixed my back I mean that 15 years since,
almost to the day, I have not had a back ache. God Bless her.
About 6 years later, it
was time to sell the house and move Granny to NC so we could have her closer
for the remainder of her time with us. When my mother went to move her and deal
with the sale of the house I called her and told her she better go to the store
and get some new knobs for the kitchen cabinets and bring me the ones that have
been in that house since the 70’s. That was the one thing I wanted from there.
The cabinet knobs were beans, corn and such inside the knob with resin. I loved
them. And they are on my cabinets in my house today. Every time I look at them it takes me right
back to my granny’s kitchen, overlooking the water with the palm trees swaying
in the breeze. Most people buying homes in her area were buying the old “florida
style” homes for the lot and tearing them down to build GIANT gazillion dollar homes. The people that bought the house wanted to keep it as it was and
because of that they took less than ask price.
Ok – where am I going with
this walk down memory lane??
This past Friday afternoon I
was looking online at the news and there was an article that listed the 15 most
expensive streets in the country. Coming from a family of real estate brokers, I
decided to read it thinking there might be one in North Carolina. To my
amazement, as I am scrolling down the list I see Nelson’s Walk which I knew was
in her neighborhood. So I google it to see where it was in relation to her
house…right around the corner. So, the natural progression with the help of
google maps I went to look at her house. Typed in her address and it showed me
an empty lot. No way. So I go up and down the street… and google her address
again… empty lot. Then I notice the feature to go back several years to the
last time it was mapped and see what it looked like. BINGO.
There was her house…
in 2007.
In 2014 it was gone.
Open another tab to realtor.com… house had been
sold in 2013 and apparently the person who bought it is building a $14 million
home on it. By the time it is done I bet there will be enough grass to cut with
a pair of scissors.
I have to confess, what I saw took my breath away and swallowed me in a fog of sadness. Pieces of what made me who I am are vanishing along with the people I love so dearly. My Aunt is the only person left from that part of my life. So, some things change and
some things don’t. But in life that is the one thing we can count on… change. I
guess I need to adjust my sails for the changes ahead in my life. They are
coming. Until then I shall enjoy the moments, treasure them, breathe them in
deeply and cherish them because they will be gone in the blink of an eye.
Live every day as if it could
be your last and you will regret nothing.
LIFE. IS. STILL. GOOD. 
