Out and About (Sort Of): Were I a Poet by Howard Freedlander

Were I a poet, I would describe last week’s Thanksgiving holiday at Rehoboth Beach, DE with family in soaring terms.

Were I a poet, I would describe watching a beautiful sunrise on the Atlantic Ocean with words that would translate this experience into a lovely painting.

Were I a poet, I would describe the thrill of watching my two grandchildren, ages 5 and nearly 3, romp across an unpopulated beach with sheer joy and childish abandon. Adults’ eyes never left them.

Were I a poet, I would describe the harmonious mix of three generations of a family enjoying each other amid unseasonably warm weather and a wonderfully comfortable beach house. Conversation and laughter were easy and soothing.

Were I a poet, I would describe how my heart swelled as my five-year-old grandson sang a blessing over the Thanksgiving feast, learned at his pre-school in Annapolis. His blessing was a show-stopper. No other words of praise and gratitude were necessary.

Were I a poet, I would extol the value of tradition, of exposing grandchildren to a place long loved by our family, dominated by an ocean that produces waves and screams of joy from young children instructed to touch their toes and no more.

As someone who loves family, I find Thanksgiving, just on the cusp of a mad shopping season, a welcome respite from the grind of life. All the better when family members get along rather well and happily under the same roof for three days.

A big turkey bird, cooked well and tenderly, surrounded by sumptuous sides of stuffing, mashed potatoes, sauerkraut and string beans, is my very favorite meal. Pumpkin pie is a perfect exclamation point. Waistline-watching is temporarily suspended.

I have written in the past about Rehoboth Beach, DE and the uncontrolled growth along Route 1A leading into this seaside resort. Beyond the shopping centers, filled with discount brand stores, are residential communities that seemingly have no end in Sussex County. Well-planned land use is non-existent.

Our summer visits to Rehoboth Beach, DE have ceased despite our long ties to this resort community. We gladly will accept cold weather—fortunately not true last week—for a venue filled with a lot fewer people.

Our rented house is the centerpiece of our Thanksgiving holiday experience. Built in the late 1920s by a Wilmington, DE lumber yard owner, it has a prime location facing the ocean, perhaps a hundred feet from the surf. The same family has owned this four-bedroom house for nearly 100 years. While other houses in the neighborhood have become gentrified, this house has undergone some improvements, but not many. Its location and comfortable roominess give the property a special feel.

On a more mundane level, time spent in Delaware brings immediate satisfaction: no sales tax. As I waited for change after buying newspapers and coffee one morning, I quickly realized that I would leave with no metallic change, only paper.

As I write this, I realize that the Christmas shopping fever has already begun. No more talk about turkeys and stomach-splitting food. We now head into a Tsunami of Christmas promotions and sales. No sense of complaining, I guess. Our national economy relies on this commercial boost.

Back to poetry. I simply cannot compose in verse my emotional reaction to a family celebration abutting a beautiful ocean and lovely sunrises. As I watch my grandchildren enjoying a welcoming environment, both natural and human, I momentarily thrust aside gnawing concerns about our terror-ridden world, poisonous politics, economic turmoil and police-civilian confrontations.

Not all holidays summon a poetic response. Thanksgiving does for me.

Columnist Howard Freedlander retired in 2011 as Deputy State Treasurer of the State of Maryland.  Previously, he was the executive officer of the Maryland National Guard. He  also served as community editor for Chesapeake Publishing, lastly at the Queen Anne’s Record-Observer.  In retirement, Howard serves on the boards of several non-profits on the Eastern Shore, Annapolis and Philadelphia.

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