During every summer of my childhood, my father and I would take a trip to Maine. We would stay at the same hotel, eat at the same restaurants, order the same food, see the same sites, go to the same beach & play the same games on the same boardwalk. Sound boring? It wasn’t. Those trips are some of my most treasured childhood memories.

I spent almost every summer climbing those rocks, watching the majestic ocean waves crash against the shore.

I still remember how the baked stuffed potatoes at The Oarweed somehow tasted better than any other potato in the world. And I craved them every year.

One day, I’ll take a walk along the boardwalk with my own children & show them the glorious window of Goldenrod Kisses where they make their delicious peanut butter taffy.

The many traditions that my father so wisely maintained all those years taught me an important lesson, forming part of who I am to this day. He showed me how tradition binds us together & tells us who we are. It gives us a sense of security. That no matter what happens, as long as we were still together, we are ok.

Through all the trials and tribulations of life, every year we were happily back in Maine climbing those rocks at Nubble Lighthouse, waiting to eat our baked stuffed potatoes for dinner. And it was everything. A truly treasured memory that, to this day, brings a smile to my face.

Thanks, Dad! ❤