Get sand in your hair

My Nana loved sitting in the waves in her cheap folding beach chair, letting the waves cool her as they gently swirled around her. Sometimes the waves would knock her head over feet into the surf, and she would laugh all the way back to the shore with her mangled chair and wiping the sand out of her face.

This is my favorite way to think of her. Nana was one of the only women I knew in my childhood that wasn’t afraid to go in the water and get her hair wet.

I don’t know if Nana knew how much I enjoyed taking a chair to sit beside her in the waves as a young child, how scandalous it felt to have the chair getting slowly ruined by the salt and sand, how dangerous and exciting it was to have the possibility of getting knocked over by a bigger wave but knowing she was a strong swimmer and would rescue me if I needed it.

I didn’t think to tell her then. It’s too late to tell her now. But maybe she could tell. Maybe she enjoyed that time together as much as I cherished it.

Nana brought her chair out to sit in the waves because she loved it. She was only doing it for herself. I happened to have the privilege of joining her every other summer on our vacation to visit and enjoying that as a sort of tradition. But she would have done it whether or not I was there to revel in the ritual.

She wasn’t worried about getting sand in her hair or up her butt. She wasn’t worried about ruining a chair because she didn’t buy fancy ones. She wasn’t worried about seaweed swirling around her legs. That was what drew me to her in those moments, she was worry free. That is what makes me think of her and smile now.

What makes you feel free and willing to get your hair wet in the salt and sand? What do you do with abandon? What are you holding yourself back from?

Even if you aren’t going to dance like no one is watching, maybe you can bring your beach chair out into the waves and let your worries go.