When I was a kid I used to love to read mystery books. I read and loved all the Nancy Drew books and some of the Hardy Boys, but my very, very favorite were mystery books that took place on the upper eastern sea coast. The stories always took place on a foggy island where the fog horn sounded so lonely in the distance and the fog was so thick no one could see the island, or in a rose covered cottage hidden in a cove on the Maine coastline where at night if one looked closely they could see some ghostly figures of pirates roaming up and down the shore. Or they took place on Martha's Vineyard where the houses are hidden by all the trees and the roads are little lanes, and the only way to get there was by ferry, or high on a craggy cliff where the lighthouse lamp burned brightly to lead the poor seaman home from their travels. I loved to read about the little girl and boy who always were spending the summer with Grandma and how they went back and forth to Cape Cod or Nantucket. The days were mostly misty and rainy and they were always allowed to take the boat out to explore, or to roam the woods looking for wild blueberries.
I could imagine myself being right there with them. I loved and lived these stories always telling myself that someday I would be there.
In the summer of 2003, June 10-16 I was able to fulfill this dream, thanks to my darling daughter Amy Thomas Midgett. For my gift that previous Christmas she gave me an airline ticket to spend some time with her in Boston, Mass., where she was stationed at the time.
When I arrived and saw her I was a bit overwhelmed with the whole thing and with the prospect of spending a week with my Amy. Just the two of us. Her little studio apartment was just what I expected it to be. Even though it rained almost every day it was perfect weather. We toured Boston and the USS Constitution. We spent the time driving up and down the Eastern sea coast and many times I was taken back to those wonderful mystery stories of my youth. One day when we drove through the tree canopied roads to the ferry to Martha's Vineyard I was overcome with joy and love and appreciation for Amy and her efforts to let me see that part of this wonderful Country. It was a magical time in my life. As we drove along the Coast Nora Jones became our traveling music. It was all so romantic and fun and new. Spending that time with Amy I realized that I truly am blessed.
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