LOVE LETTER to Mom and Dad

Today is my Mom's birthday. 

When I talked to her this afternoon, she had the MOST EXCITING news to report.

To celebrate her birthday, my Dad is taking her to Rehoboth Beach for several days next week.

Let me tell you about Rehoboth. It's not on the French Riviera or the Almafi Coast. It's not tropical or Caribbean. Rehoboth is on the southern tip of Deleware and it measures exactly one mile square. 

One square mile of vinegar-soaked, sun-filled, fragrant memories of years and years of laughter.

My mom went to Rehoboth Beach when she was growing up as a child in Maryland. 

When our family moved back to the East Coast, to Richmond, Va., from a 4-year hiatus to Louisiana, we started taking vacations to Rehoboth Beach. We deviated...twice...I think...but always ended up back on the "boards" as we used to say. 

The week at Rehoboth every summer was always magical. It never mattered that once our rented cottage had fleas. Or that another that we rented for several years in a row had no air conditioning; it just mattered that we were there. The family, or parts of thereof, went every year up until the year, recently, that my parents bought a place at Sandbridge, just south of Virginia Beach.

So when Mom told me that Dad had booked time for next week at the Atlantic Sands Hotel on the boardwalk in Rehoboth, I almost fell over. Dad's always gotten Mom nice gifts for special occasions, but if I had to guess (it's not even much of a guess) I'd say my mom's love language is NOT "receiving gifts." Instead, I'd be willing to bet the farm that what my Mom responds to most is "acts of service." I think a lot of women would love the gifts my dad regularly picked out: new clothes and jewelry, but I *think* what MOM was looking for were the little deeds and affirmations that showed that she was listened to and could have some of her tasks lifted from  her shoulders. 

The JOY in my Mom's voice was unmistakeable when she was telling me about the trip to Rehoboth. Dad had listened. (WTG, Pop!) They were going back to the place, together, that was our family stomping ground during our formative years. 

The amount of love in that deed  is tremendous. Because I'm not sure anything could have made my mom happier. 

Love you both!