This summer seems like a normal summer, but it isn’t ordinary at all. When I returned from Spain, I was eager to open up my place in Brigantine. I stopped at Ron’s Garden Farm Market in Farley Plaza on the Atlantic City Expressway and bought the usual petunias and spices to grow on the deck: 
some lavender, basil, rosemary, mint. It was a tad late in the season and they were out of oregano and sage, which I miss. I purchased the beach tags in the Community Center, two senior and four for the family. I brought two new bathing suits with matching coverups from Madrid.
My old friends from Saint Joseph’s University were anxiously waiting for me and we quickly made plans to see the summer buster movies together. This year it was The Odyssey on IMAX at the local mall. I won’t miss this routine at all. IMAX made me shake, my Apple watch kept buzzing, warning me that wherever I was, it was too loud and my hearing was in danger. Never mind that I was wearing earplugs. In past summers we have seen, Frankenstein, Oppenheimer, Barbie, Elvis, but nothing seems the same. The mall is practically deserted, like a ghost town, with Macy’s and a couple of small stores hanging on. Ironically, there is a rumor that Amazon is going to purchase it and open a warehouse in the same spot. The truth is that we miss Alan who passed away last winter and a few other friends who have moved to retirement communities.
The pool at the club is as inviting as ever. I swim with a noodle now, exercising my knees. I enjoy the Tai Chi class in person more than on Zoom and I’m taking Diane, our instructor, to lunch to let her know. The beach is as expansive and beautiful as ever, but there are fewer lifeguards stands and we can only swim in between the posted orange flags. Thank goodness that the piping plovers and other endangered bird species have returned since the last storm. We have gorged on Jersey tomatoes, peaches and sweet corn at the local Farmers’ Market, indulged with their clams and scallops and even went a couple of times to trendy LaScala’s Beach House, although the live music was too loud.
I’ve had fewer overnight guests, it seems that most friends are traveling more and my grandchildren have jobs now and can’t come to visit Mare, their Spanish grandmother, as often. I miss them and I prepare a gift bag with some of their favorite treasures from this house and a souvenir from my trip to Spain; black and white photography books for the artist in the family and Guatemalan textiles for the Latin American traveler.
But I digress, the reality is that I’m preparing to put my house up for sale by Labor Day.
There are lots of reasons for this and I know it’s the right time to do it. Some of it is financial, after many years of retirement, my savings are dwindling and I have been hit with several assessments for the condo in the city. There is a lot to do with two homes for one person and my energy is dwindling too. Of course, the elephant in the room is my knees. Bike riding and pickleball have become history. The long walk down to the beach seems to be getting longer and I don’t drag my chair to sit by the water’s edge as often as I used to. In fact, I only do it when I have company. I enjoyed this place at the right time, it was our refuge during Covid and beyond; the grandchildren loved coming, especially when they got their driver’s licenses.
I read an article in The New York Times about the three phases of retirement. It turns out that I’m entering the second phase, who knew? It means that we “still have time for family, friends and social activities. Spending tapers off.” I love transitions in any case. I plan to have more time to travel to film festivals, operas and art openings. I can always rent a place at the beach for a few weeks next year somewhere else and my apartment in the city has a rooftop pool anyway.
I have been cleaning out closets, books, kitchen and, mostly, dishes. I’m taking some of my favorite paintings with me, others are staying behind and I will miss them. Nowadays a house has to be staged, looking elegant and cleared of souvenirs. I know the end of the summer is approaching because we are taking my grandson and his girlfriend on his birthday, September 1st, to the Tennis Open at Flushing Meadows, New York. We hope that Carlos Alcaraz will play. Labor Day is around the corner…