Tuesday:

From the first sensation of the air on my skin this morning, it was clear it was going to be hot. My husband woke me as he climbed out of bed to head for an early morning run on the beach. I remained behind dozing a little longer. AJ, who had woken, confused, during the night (we found him wandering in the hall), slept late. By the time he awoke, my mom and I had already bicycled up the winding path to the beachside pool and started our water aerobics class. AJ and my husband joined us for some pool splashing and AJ�s first glimpse of ocean this trip.

As we hit the rise in the boardwalk, AJ exclaimed, �Wow! There�s waves!� And after a brief pause to examine the outdoor showers for salty bathers, he took off running down the beach. He approached the water with some trepidation at first, but soon he was running headlong into it, backing up a little with each new approach until finally, he was a small dot in a blue hot waving vigorously from the foot of the boardwalk. After the blazing sun drove us toward shade, we headed for home and breakfast and the store and wine and lunch � our lives always revolve around food and drink in an alarming way when we are here. It is now the siesta hour. AJ is trying not to fall asleep in his bed. My husband is curled up with a book, my dad has left for choir practice in the city and my mom is barricaded in her bedroom with a pot of tea. I am starting out the window watching the breeze buffet the live oaks and wax myrtles lining the lagoon and scanning for semi-submerged alligators and wondering how this strange and wonderful place can be in the same country as my own home.

Wednesday:

It is hot. If we were in Chicago, we would probably call it �hotter than hell,� or perhaps, simply �very fuckin� hot.� Down here, however, the word is sultry. It�s the kind of weather where people doze in hammocks, icy drinks slipping gently from their hands and melting into the ground. I myself did a little dozing under the ceiling fan on the screened porch this afternoon, after a grueling morning of chasing AJ around the beach where we jumped in the waves and lay on our backs in a tide pool looking at the clouds.

Our trip has not been all fun and games, however. I talked to my grandmother yesterday. She has Alzheimer�s. Mom and I took AJ to a story hour at the local library today while we looked for books about the disease � AD to insiders coping with it in one way or another. My grandmother is frightened. My grandmother is angry. My grandmother doesn�t know what time it is. When my mother asked if she wanted to speak to her granddaughter, she said, �which one?� (I am the only one). My mom is feeling trapped and frustrated and stressed. She�s not sleeping. I want to help, but am not really sure what I can do other than listen to my mom and talk to my grandmother and just be here.

AJ is singing sea chanties in his bath. I think it�s time to wash a pirate�s hair.

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