The Best Week of the Year

This Saturday, my family and I are headed down to the Shore. We like to say it’s the best week of the year. 

My grandparents vacationed there with my dad and his four siblings and later when they started their individual families it turned into a large extended family vacation, now spanning four generations. 

I find it incredibly impressive that this tradition has lived on beyond my grandparents’ passing. As you can imagine, I think a lot of traditions wane when the Matriarch and Patriarch of families are no longer earthside. But not for the Sforza’s - Joanie, Celli, Dick, Ed and Mare. 

Each summer, we travel to spend a week together. Cousins fly in from California, Florida and Tennessee and the rest of us make that Saturday road trip down the Garden State Parkway. If we counted everyone up, I’d say there could easily be 60+ people living in 5+ houses. 

We spend long days at the beach, riding waves and digging for sand crabs. We stay up late playing cards, chatting about life and reminiscing about old times and lost family members. Last summer, my aunt brought a box of old photos - photos of my Aunt Alice and Uncle John, Uncle Louie and Uncle Val - people I hardly remember but feel familiar with because of all their stories shared. 

Last August, my siblings and I decided to bring my mom despite her progression. We knew it would be hard but thought it might be her last vacation at the Shore. We were right and it was worth it. 

Without the help of her daily aide - we put child proof door knobs on the house, washed her bed sheets each morning, showered and brushed her hair and brought her to the beach - her favorite place to be!