The crew at The Crab Shack!
Waking up to the sounds of your girlfriends laughing ranks right up there with the pop of champagne, the roar of the crowd, and the tears of joy at a wedding or birth.
The excitement that builds in the months just after the leader of your group sends an email asking, “are you in this year?” rolls along through the long hot days of summer and into the start of school. As the days grew closer to the Autumnal Eq
uinox, close to the date we were to arrive at the beach, a frenzy of texts began:
“Did you bring the champagne?
“Do we need hair dryers?”
“Who is riding with you?”
“What time are you leaving?”
and so on…
On the designated Thursday morning, as soon as the last bus pulled away from the bus stop with our children, the caravan scheduled to leave at different times of day began to head south through town, out I-16 and towards Tybee Island. With a stop at Tubby’s Tank House on Thunderbolt to meet a former neighbor and friend, the fun began. Catching up and hearing about her home in Savannah’s Historic District set us all to dreaming about what it would be like to just pick up and move someplace cool.
Upon arrival we all rushed through the house to claim one of the giant king-sized beds and settle in with new roommates which was reminiscent of pouring out of the camp bus and stowing your gear in your bunk. In fact, one of our group, a mother of four, did choose a bunk and described it as the quietest place she had been in years. “It is a little like being the hamster cozied up under the fluff in the corner of the cage.”
The first night was filled with stories, beach walks, cargo ship watching, sappy movies, plenty of wine, lots of love and support along with a spread of specialties on which to nosh as the night moved on. Laughter and a few tears along with excited joy each time another mommy-van arrived hung in the air long after everyone went to sleep.
The earliest of Tybee “ladies” pose for a fun picture in the sun. (Tybee Historical Society)
It was a little like the laughter of the women who had visited Tybee from turn-of-the-century days of tourism in their rented “beach costumes” was mixing the echoes of our laughter with theirs.
The next morning found everyone ready to climb the historic Tybee lighthouse and tour the grounds surrounding it. The wind whipped past and carried the laughter from the top of the lighthouse down and out across the beach. Viewing the photos of “Old Tybee” and a different day and time made us all stop to consider the women who came here on vacations with their families and to find seasonal work in the hotels. Pictures of beach pageants, life guards, and models covered the walls of the old battery along the beach giving a face to the memories of a time and place long gone. Eventually, the smells of burgers and beer overcame and a stop at the beach bar was in order.
The afternoon found some relaxing on the porch and others heading to the beach. While on the beach, some of us learned lessons of physics the hard way. Sitting on the beach, reading our books and letting the surf tickle our toes, we were closely following the directions of Zac Brown…
With our toes in the water and asses in the sand,
we thought we hadn’t a worry in the world
until the gigantic cargo ship passed land
The mini-Tsunami wave roared over
And sent us tumbling down the sand
We bled and we laughed
Our drinks safe high in our hands
After our long walks on the beach, tide and water displacement lessons, and some reading in beach chairs, we loaded our wagon up and headed back across the long bridges that crossed our own little “Turtle Bay” with eager little critters popping their heads up to beg a morsel. Showers were grabbed and a few lucky girls got their hair “did” by a real pageant mom while the whole group pawed through makeup, perfume, hair products and shoes.
We headed to dinner at the Crab Shack-“Where the Elite Eat In Their Bare Feet”-which was a good thing since one of our lovelies actually got in the van without her shoes! (Who wears shoes at the beach anyway?) As luck would have it, another of our beauties had been incredibly indecisive and brought two pairs of shoes along! While Shoeless “Jo” didn’t need shoes for dinner, the Drag Queen Show at Club One (home of the Lady Chablis of Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil fame) probably would not have let her in the building. The show? phenomenal! Amazing! And we got to dance! Girls gotta dance! And the Drag Queens? They can make a girl feel real special!
A late morning with mimosas, movies and watching the ocean activities turned into a lazy afternoon. Some napped in lounge chairs, others worked from laptops, a crew headed down to a safer spot on the beach, and one drove south to Florida to see her dad. Women drifted in and out of the kitchen seeking the source of the delicious tortilla soup permeating the living area, they ran their dishes through the suds, concocted drinks, and snacked with the sounds of the 70’s floating from the cable in the background. Someone brought out spiked cheesecake for an afternoon snack and the lazy day continued on.
Shopping…every good girls’s weekend must include shopping. Great shirts and offerings for the children left behind with husbands were purchased and bagged. Finding the bags after a visit to the local beachside bar for supper was another story…Apparently, just because you are holding something in your hand doesn’t guarantee that you can actually find it without the help of your friends.
Great conversations about whether or not our bodies have passed the point of being called “stunning” were bandied about. We determined we were all stunning in our own ways. More laughs than allowed by law came with the conversation and floated through the air to reach the ears of our turtle friends in the pond off the balcony. That also elicited a conversation as to whether turtles even have ears.
Originally, when the weather called for rain on the last full day, a spa day was
considered. The sun came out and the spa day was set aside for laying by the pool. That brought another set of problems. Modern conveniences require loud child-safety buzzers on the door to the pool and when a desire for the pool crosses with a desire to nap, Murphy’s Law dictates that not a soul who is attempting to access the pool is capable of disabling the alarm without awaking sleeping beauties on three floors.
One of the girls wrapped up the feeling and the reason behind why a girls’ weekend is so special and so necessary. by saying, “God created girlfriends to help us really see the true meaning of friendship and true love through the good times and bad time. That is what girlfriend weekends are all about…it is to build up those relationships so that we will have that through our whole lives because, on Sunday night, when we are all back home in the normalcy of our routine with kids, school preparation, backpacks, making meals, planning the week ahead, we know that the girlfriend relationships we have strengthened through the weekend will sustain us through the next year until we can get together again. The weekend is sacred….”
More from our resident philosopher revealed: “What happens on girls weekend stays on girls weekend is not a raunchy allusion. Girls connect on a deep and spiritual level and we know we love and can trust each other on a level that assures us we can make it through the mundane of daily life…oops, I have bbq in my hair.”
It was also noted that our husbands were real troopers in our absence. They managed the texted “coconut telegraph” and not a child was left behind at a rainy football game, church “glow party”, soccer, or swimming. Some were temporarily lost, but with a neighborhood like ours…it remained just temporary.
The last night began at sunset with the remaining bottles of wine. The wind picked up, clouds fluffed up, and cargo ship traffic picked up to increase the sound of the waves. The stage was set for the perfect show. Some of the girls stopped by the beachside cafe to pick up dinner and the rest settled in for the multicolored show. By the time the sun set and dinner was served, promises were made for support and love throughout the next year. The laughs continued as we added our voices to the choir of historic echoes that eternally ride on the wind of a Tybee breeze.
My friend, Dick Moe said not to do it that way…
So, in honor of Dick “Pop” Moe, a man who has influenced my life since I was “a kid”. I will not “give up” Facebook during Lent. I promise to redouble my efforts to connect with my neighbors, my friends, my loved ones.
FreelanceBeth 