For nearly thirty years, my family vacationed in Maine in July.
The tradition began in the early 90s after my parents found an idyllic spot while exploring the mid-coast region. They were excited to share the area with their family and friends. What followed were years of treasured memories forever etched in my mind.
Each summer, I was reminded how lucky we were to be together, on vacation, and in Maine.
Tourists are welcomed at the State line with a sign and a slogan that captures the spirit of those trips.
You might wonder what the Slogan means if you’ve never to be Maine.
Think of your ideal vacation when you’re most relaxed without a care. That’s Maine to me, as well as: family, fresh blueberries, lobster, smores by the fire, playing card games and board games, mini golf, ice cream cones while strolling small towns, watching the Parade of Sails in Penobscot Bay, visiting bookstores and art galleries, exploring new restaurants and museums that tell the history of the area.
Maine is all that and so much more.
The last time we made the five-hour trek north was in 2016. During that trip, my son, my parents, and I savored every moment as we had each year prior.
We never imagined it would be the last time we would all be together in Maine. My son became sick soon after, and my father passed away in 2021.
We often reminisced about Maine and talked about returning to the area, but we had yet to do so. Perhaps it’s too hard to return to a place that was so special and held such meaning.
I frequently revisit the many photo books chronicling our years in Maine, slowly savoring each scene. Here are just a few:
This past week, my son and I were invited to spend a few days with my cousin and her husband in Maine. It was an impromptu trip that would bring us back to the State for the first time in eight years.
Thrilled that Remy could join us, we cleared our schedules and packed our bags as we had often done. As we headed north on Route 95, memories of years passed flooded my mind.
The year my aunt, who was traveling with us, forgot her handbag and wallet and realized it two hours into the trip. We stopped and scoured the bags packed into every nook and cranny in the car until she realized her bag was on her kitchen table in RI. My father convinced her she didn’t need it, and we continued.
The year my niece’s shoes were too tight, and she cried for hours. We would later figure it out when my sister took off her cute shoes and saw the red mark on her little feet!
The years we played baseball on the lawn outside the house for hours.
The year a seagull joined us for breakfast and dinner and followed us to the pool like a pet.
The blueberry pancakes at one of our favorite local restaurants on Main Street.
The many local business owners who warmly greeted us each year and welcomed us back like old friends. On our way into town each year, my Dad would stop at the same small service station to get gas. The owner greeted him like a long-lost family member.
Making new friends on the golf course and maintaining those friendships for years.
Watching my nephew and son take golf pointers from my father, or practice with him on the putting green.
Going to the small theater in town to see Gladiator with my Dad on a rainy day.
Like a beautiful film, one scene after another came to life. I even thought I heard belly laughs in the distance.
We all looked forward to our trips to Maine.
Even though my life was full of challenges and unknowns during many of my last years, I enjoyed each trip to the fullest. I set aside the struggles with my health and forgot about the difficult divorce and the worries of being a single parent.
Spending time with family in Maine was like a hot cup of cocoa on a cold, snowy day.
Maine fed my soul and allowed me to breathe.
So this week, as we crossed the state line from New Hampshire and saw the Welcome to Maine sign, I sighed and took several deep breaths. It wasn’t quite the same without a car full of people. There were no license plate games or maps with different routes highlighted.
My young adult son was driving this time, and our dog Remy was in the back, wondering where we were headed. It was just the three of us, as it often is these days.
No sooner had we crossed into Maine than my son and I commented on its beauty. From the coast to the lakes to the mountains, Maine never ceases to amaze me. But the cherished memories outweigh its glorious sunrises and spectacular sunsets.
We continued making our way through small towns. Lost again in our thoughts, the quiet inside the truck matched that outside for the last two hours of the trip.
Traveling back to Maine was a big step.
But thanks to my cousin and her husband, a beautiful new pet-friendly location, and many new memories, Maine did not disappoint.
Watching the sunrise over the beautiful lake, I continued to reminisce about Maine through the years. I honored each memory, prayed for those no longer with us, and vowed to continue creating new ones with those who are.
Maine was just as I remembered.
The Way Life Should Be.
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Until next week, be mindful and stay safe.
xo Tracy
I loved this essay! I love looking back at rich memories from our childhood and savoring them, and your memories of your trips to Maine came shining through! Thank you!
I couldn't agree more 👍👍👍