Postcards from California Day Four: Birthday

I was sent to California for my birthday and today was that day.

There was a lot to my birthday – fresh bagels, hot coffee, a drive up to Mt. Soledad, hours at La Jolla Shores, and lunch at Shake Shack. And then there was reading and lounging about, cocktails, roast chicken, and chocolate cake.

I read veterans’ plaques at Mt. Soledad, liking especially the plaques that showed couples who had served together in WW II. The woman wasn’t always a nurse, sometimes she was a communications specialist or kept the trucks supplied. There were a lot of tough customers in WWII and it did my heart good to see women among them.

We walked a long time on the beach. There were hundreds of people there and babies in sunhats everywhere. I watched a six-year old girl being taught to surf by an older man with gray hair, both of them in black wet suits, surfer garb probably not required by the temperature of the water but then I’m from Wisconsin and I also wasn’t swimming or surfing. Needed or not, I think the accoutrements of a sport are critical. One can’t be a proper equestrian in a bathing suit, right?

One grandson offered me a perfect black rock as a gift but I declined. Then he offered it to his mother who did likewise and then to his brother who decided he wanted it but then the gift giver decided he wanted it back and great squabbling ensued so I told them to give the rock to me for my birthday and then later I conspired to have the rock thrown deep into the surf when the boys weren’t looking. I told them I lost it. It may have been the most grandmotherly thing I did all weekend.

At the end of the walk, I was mesmerized by one grandson pulling a long strand of kelp down the beach, oblivious to all traffic and casual observers. I loved him for doing this because it was a beautiful thing to do, so solitary and independent, so unworried about the puzzlement of others, so I took a picture of him and his kelp. And then he asked me to hold one end of the kelp and I said no, so he grabbed the end himself and twirled it around like a lasso.

If there was a true point to my trip to California, it may have been that moment.