As August settled in, I had been feeling very isolated and shut in. Some of this was due to living during a pandemic.

Many favorite mom and pop restaurants were forced to close, and street festivals that usually provided music and warm-weather distractions were not scheduled or were drastically scaled back.

I had gotten into the bad habit of not taking weekends off. Even though I didn’t have an official nine to five job, I always felt like there was something I needed to do; writing blog posts or pitching articles to editors.

I remembered my friend, Nicki, often took a week off in August to spend time with her family near the Indiana Dunes, less than a two-hour drive from Chicago. Her family would rent a cottage in the vicinity of where they used to have their own cottage, and these yearly excursions brought up wonderful memories for them.

I started inquiring about this year’s plans to hang out in Michiana earlier in the month. Because of COVID, it was still up in the air which family out-of-towners would make the trip.

She welcomed me to spend a few days with her family although she couldn’t guarantee accommodations at their cottage until the regulars sorted out their plans. I decided to come out for two days and was prepared to check into a hotel if there was no bed for me at their rental.

My beach trip took just over thirty hours, but it was a wonderful break for me. I gave up the thought of trying to get work done and opened up to whatever life presented to me. I had a sense of adventure.

I didn’t have to make decisions, and that was fine.

I enjoyed the clear waters of Lake Michigan when we actually ventured out to the beach.  The water temperature was warm and the surface was unusually calm. The blue sky was intoxicating.

I enjoyed observing the parade of guests that made a pilgrimage to be part of Nicki’s family’s yearly retreat.

Her older brother, visiting from California, came out with her on Sunday. Different girlfriends spent Monday and Tuesday night. I came around noon on Wednesday, leaving Thursday evening around sunset. Her son and his girlfriend came Wednesday night and her daughter came Thursday afternoon. Other friends were expected to make visits Friday and Saturday.

I loved watching the dynamic of my friend with her grown children and brother that left her parents’ house when she was only a toddler. There may have been certain roles they assumed automatically, but every member of the family listened to each other and everyone took responsibility for their own amusement.

I especially got a kick out of her brother, David. They were about seventeen years apart. Like many older people who live alone, he seemed to love having an audience and expressing his opinions, but he didn’t depend on positive affirmations from others.

Without prompting, he’d remark how the sweet corn or green beans we ate were “to die for” good. He’d take whatever bedroom assignment was given to him without a fuss. He gladly watched the Dave Chapelle Netflix special most everyone else was up for in the evening (even though he later remarked some of the jokes were over the top).

He loved swimming with the group but was happy taking long walks on the beach alone looking for crinoids.

At one point, Nicki and I started a discussion about visiting New Orleans, a place where David spent many years as a young man.

He disappeared for a few minutes and came back to the kitchen of the cottage, wearing his disco ball mirrored baseball cap and souvenir tee from the Big Easy. It bore a proclamation and confession in one sentence. “I got bourbon faced on shit street.”

Of course, he was hoping we’d all be amused, but it didn’t matter a lot. It was obvious that HE was amused. His own delight was all that really mattered  — all that mattered to him in the moment.

I really loved my beach boondoggle and I loved spending time in the company of people who listened deeply and laughed loudly.

Spending hours with her family gave me a new appreciation for the line Nicki includes in her email signature.

“There is no end to the universe’s ability to delight and amaze me.”

Spending time with people who want to be happy is no small thing.