Happy Birthday

A fun fact about your Homegrown Travelers: we were both born in the month of November! My birthday comes first, a fact that Tyler never ceases to utilize when he is feeling indecisive. “You’re older, so you can decide!” he says with a gracious smile. This brings an eyeroll before I, inevitably, make the decision. I guess age has its perks!

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Featured photos: https://photos.app.goo.gl/NyzmpMJMfN1rkwzcA

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November 6th, 2024- Florida Day 1

What sort of birthday traditions do you have in your family? When my sisters and I were young, our grandparents always treated us to a day out. We’d get an entire day away from chores, schoolwork, and responsibilities to spend time with our Memaw and Papa. There are seven granddaughters in my family, so having that special quality time with my grandparents was a joy! Inevitably, we would find ourselves at Kohl’s or Macy’s, where Memaw would treat us to a new set of clothes. Being farm kids, we were pretty rough on clothes, but Memaw always took it upon herself to make sure her granddaughters were dressed nicely! As we stood examining ourselves in the dressing room mirrors, she would remind us of the rules of fashion. “Don’t wear white after Labor Day!” “Don’t wear clashing patterns!” “Try to coordinate colors when you can!” My poor grandma had to endure the years when we only wanted to wear camouflage, ball caps, and dirty sweatshirts. Bless her, she soldiered through, and now she can proudly say that her granddaughters know how to dress up when they set their minds to it. And no, we never wear clashing patterns!

Papa was largely uninterested in clothes shopping. His interests were more of the outdoor variety, and he often found ways to incorporate them into our childhoods. The four of us girls shared a Barnett crossbow, a dinky little weapon that smelled a little hot if you fired it too many times. I think the string smoked a bit too. Despite this, we treated that crossbow like it was the chiefest of all bows. We practiced regularly, filling our conversations with buzzwords like “consistency” and “grouping.” Since my birthday fell during the whitetail deer rut, I was blessed with the time-honored birthday tradition of hunting with Papa. Dressed head to toe in camouflage, Papa and I would tiptoe through crunchy fall leaves, crossbows in hand. Papa’s stride was quiet and well-practiced. Mine was clumsy and loud. Once arriving at the treestand, I’d sit crosslegged at Papa’s feet, crossbow held at the ready in my lap. Periodically, Papa would tap my shoulder and offer a snack in his gloved hands. It was usually deer jerky, a fact that remains morbidly funny to me as an adult. In the stand, we’d sit for hours in silence, enjoying the chirps of nuthatches and the obnoxious rustle of squirrels in the leaves. Occasionally, we’d see deer, a source of great excitement. Once, I even shot one. It was the greatest day of my entire childhood, if only because of the pride on Papa’s face. 

As a couple, Tyler and I have a sweet, complex history surrounding our November birthdays. In 2019, he drove four-ish hours across the state to bring me cupcakes at my college campus. You should recall, dear reader, that Tyler and I met through online high school. We had never met face-to-face before then. Tyler’s determination knows no bounds, however, so he found a way to track me down using a selfie I’d sent him that morning. It was a magnificent way to start off our beautiful relationship! For my next birthday, he bought me a kayak so that we could go paddling together. When I told my mom about this, she lifted an eyebrow and said, “A kayak? What’s next, an engagement ring?”

(She wasn’t too far off. We got engaged eight months later!)

Funnily enough, Tyler and I have yet to establish birthday traditions as a married couple.  Is it because we’re young? Maybe we just haven’t been together long enough yet? I don’t know the answer, but I suspect it has something to do with the fact that we aren’t home enough. If you do the math, we’ve probably been away from home for a third of our marriage. My hypothesis is that a nomadic lifestyle isn’t conducive to putting down roots. Seems reasonable, right?

Since we have no birthday traditions, we decided to celebrate our 2024 November birthdays with a national park trip. Big surprise, right? For this trip, we journeyed south to Florida!

In my opinion, greatest tragedy of 2024 is that I didn’t get to sleep in on my own birthday. At 6 AM, we were huddled under the plastic roof of a shuttle bus station, waiting for the Green Lot bus to ferry us to the airport. It was raining and cold. I shoved my hands further into my pockets, clenching my teeth to keep them from chattering. Where was that bus driver? I scowled at Tyler, who returned my stinky face with a knowing nod. Several months ago, the airport had redone the Green Lot, our car’s second home while we adventure far from Ohio. The parking lot authorities decided to slice our lot in half to establish more parking for airport staff. They also sliced the shuttle bus staff, deferring more drivers to the staff lot instead of ours. While we entirely understood why more buses were needed to ferry staff to the airport, we couldn’t help but feel abandoned. A pair of headlights swung into the dark lot, bouncing off a million falling raindrops. My hopes lifted. Finally, a reprieve from the cold! A moment later, my elation was pulverized. The bus turned its taillights toward us, heading into the staff parking lot instead of ours.

What rejection.

A few hours later, we stepped into a Florida jetway and were embraced by warm, humid air. Gone was the chilly rainfall of Ohio. In its place was a salty, comfy hug that made me immediately want to change into shorts. I did so in the airport bathroom, taking a moment to examine myself in the mirror before I left. My pale skin was a dead giveaway that we had just escaped from the sun-deprived autumn of a northern state. If we were somewhere else, I might be a little embarrassed. Florida, however, is the promised land for northerners hoping to escape the cold. In Florida, my freshly developing sunburn was in good company.

We spent the afternoon as beach rats on Sanibel Island. The island had recently been struck my Hurricane Milton, and the debris was everywhere. Sand piled up like snowdrifts on the streets. Palm fronds littered front yards, joined by fallen shutters and roof shingles. Work crews diligently cleaned and repaired as we slowly rolled by. Even a snowbird’s paradise can be the victim of disasters, we realized. No paradise is perfect. 

We shell-hunted for hours, indulging some primal urge to collect the prettiest and shinest specimens. I found myself particularly enamored by the symmetry of the spiral shells. The intricate layers of calcium carbonate formed a mathematical ratio that drew my eye in admiration. How could the bonds between two molecules add up to something so beautiful? There was something just perfect about them, so I collected them all. 

There is not much more to say about the beginning of our birthday trip. It was devoid of any traditions, yet so special just the same. When it comes down to it, Tyler and I don’t need elaborate traditions or fancy presents. For us, the greatest gift is having time together. Happy birthday to us!