Debby Does…

In 1978, we embarked on our first road trip to Sanibel with my grandparents in the aforementioned station wagon. It’s possible this trip was combined with a Disney adventure, but that part is foggy. The Sanibel bit is crystal clear.

My grandparents spent their winters on the island, shelling and fishing, and doing whatever it is people did for months at a time on a sanctuary island that had not yet discovered pickleball. Granny sent postcards each week, detailing their adventures and assuring me that I was missed. Each one was signed 1-4-3 or SWAK, as was our custom. I looked forward to those cards during the cold winter months of 1970s South Jersey, when it still actually snowed and oil prices were sky high.

We stayed for two weeks that first summer, and I never wanted to leave. That would become a recurring emotion, even after we stopped going to dreaded Uncle John’s in Ormond Beach on the way home—always a disaster.

I never want to leave Sanibel.

That makes what we’re doing right now particularly hard and probably a bit confusing to those who know us, because there’s another part of the paradox.

I don’t want to live on Sanibel.

During that 1978 trip, I set my sights on a particular street where I imagined myself living when I fulfilled the dream of my Sanibel life. Well, after a successful condo flip, we bought a house on that very street and renovated it to be the most magical place—a perfect vacation destination, getaway, sanctuary, and respite.

But, the truth is, I don’t want to live on Sanibel.

I love seasons and crunchy leaves and snow and everything that comes with living up north. I hate being hot and I crave the crisp cold air on that first morning when you know that fall is turning to winter. I relish that day when you can literally smell spring and you refuse to wear your jacket another minute. I’m that girl.

But still, I don’t want to leave Sanibel.

There’s lots of reasons that we are selling this beautiful house, and I would be lying if I told you the hurricane hadn’t spooked us. It did, despite how lucky we were. I don’t need to list all the pros and cons here. We’ve done our homework and the math, but that doesn’t make me any less sad. I love this island and the people here. I treasure my two minute walk to sunrise and the view of the osprey nest from my living room window. Rainbows and wildlife and the creepy noises from the sanctuary land behind my lanai are in my blood. It’s been running through my veins since that June of 1978.

As a person trying to grow every day, I am trying to reframe this change and this transition in my mind, though I’m not always successful in my self talk!

I’ve been so lucky to have had this, to have fulfilled that little girl dream, to have seen every sunrise and held every sandy butter clam in my hand. I got to dip my toes in magic. Now, I’m going to hand it off to someone new so that they can breathe it in and become part of this beautiful place. I’m starting my next adventure and pushing away my boundaries as this part of my life begins.

I don’t want to view this through the lens of loss anymore. I have had enough loss and I know well what it looks like. This is not loss. This is opportunity.

Will there be tears? Oh, sure, lots of them. As a matter of fact, there are tears now.

Will we be back? For sure! On vacations and maybe even for extended stays in someone else’s dream home where we don’t pay the bills or worry about the next storm.

After Hurricane Ian upended our dream and destroyed those of so many others, we found ourselves in a hotel room in Cape Coral, exhausted after a day of work in the rubble. I suggested that we think about selling. In the very next breath, I took that thought back. I was not done with Sanibel and it was not done with me. It never will be. It will sing in my soul for all my days like it did for my granny and my mom and all those with whom I have shared its glory.

So, I’ll bask in two more sunrises this trip and another quick jaunt down in a few weeks. Will that be the last? Maybe in this house, but never on this island.

I’m not done with Sanibel and Sanibel is never going to be done with me.