Column: A tranquil week on the Maine coast . . . eventually

My husband, Paul, and I have spent a week on Penobscot Bay in the same vacation rental every year for the past 21 years.

We’ve grown older and lost our mothers. Both accompanied us on our first sojourn; my mother continued coming up to Maine from Rhode Island until 2008.

Three dogs who spent time at the cottage are also gone.

Because of these memories, heading out for our week away always is bittersweet. But this year I had something else on my mind. I wondered: What exactly, is a vacation?

We were taking along our 14 year old (plus eight months) dog, Martha. Although she is maintaining her joie de vivre, there’s no denying that Martha is having difficulty standing, and experiencing other senior dog issues.

Meanwhile, cats Teddy (16) and Leo (13) would remain at home. Though they would be in the hands of a very capable caregiver, I would still worry about them. Ted has been experiencing an ear problem and Leo requires daily thyroid medication.

I also was concerned about the weather. A successful week at a vacation rental is heavily weather-dependent. I can pull out all my positive-thinking skills and push them to the limit, but the fact remains: If I don’t get out on my kayak at least three times, I am not having a good week.

The weather in June did not inspire confidence for a bright and sunny July vacation.

Finally, I wondered how retirement would affect my feelings about vacation this year. What was I vacating from? I left my job as a school librarian in June 2022, but I didn’t really feel “retired” last July. I just felt like I was on my usual summer break. Also, I’d had my right knee replaced in March of that year, and was scheduled to have the left one replaced in August. I wasn’t getting around all that well, and didn’t even bring the kayak with me.

In 2022, the weather was glorious and Martha was still doing well enough that we could take a few day trips. This year, we planned to stay close to the cottage because we weren’t sure how she was going to handle the change of scenery.

The vacation did not start off well. Once we arrived on Saturday, we realized we had forgotten several essential items. Paul planned to head back (an hour’s drive) on Sunday to retrieve them. Martha was stressed out and kept circling the house. Her nails click-clacked incessantly for several hours. Moving in with all the food, pet supplies and luggage always is an ordeal. Then, I tried to cook supper, but the oven didn’t work. We had to order pizza.

The next morning was overcast and gloomy. Paul headed home. Martha, miraculously, had slept through the night and was now resting comfortably. I sat in front of the big living room windows and looked at the fog over the bay. I realized, with a start, that I felt at peace.

Huh?

As the week evolved, my sense of contentment only grew. Martha settled quickly. She actually reached a point where she appeared to be enjoying herself. Back at home, Ted and Leo were doing well.

The weather was fine. The only major rainstorms came at night, including a violent thunderstorm in the early hours of our last day there. I was able to take the kayak out four times.

On one of my paddles, I was alone in our small section of the bay. The sky was hazy and I felt I was encapsulated in a filmy aqua gauze. A bald eagle flew overhead; a cormorant held its wings out, perched on a buoy; a heron stood, watchful, at the end of a dock.

Although I’d seen schools of pogies before (they gather in this area at this time of year), I’d never seen so many. I encountered a huge group of them—they formed a long line and dozens jumped in the air all at once. The sound was like a massive wave hitting the shore.

I was in awe.

I think it was the best paddle of my life.

Back on shore, I reflected that I might not be vacating a job this year, but I had left behind my everyday life. Retirement can be amazingly busy. I’m not even sure how that happens. But once I got home, I had dental, veterinary and medical appointments scheduled. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday.

Everyday life awaited me, big time. My garden was going to need my attention. A friend’s husband was having surgery; I’d be on pins and needles about that. Of course, my seemingly never-ending decluttering projects would be waiting for me. I couldn’t just play around with my journal. I’d have to get back to serious writing.

I am pleased to say I was able to put all these thoughts out of my mind while at the cottage. I visualized putting them on a cupboard shelf. I closed the door. There would be plenty of time to open up that passel of concerns when I got home.

We did very little during our week away. I was happy to have hours to read, to visit with the sheep in their paddock down the street. Sometimes I just sat on the deck or the beach and stared into the distance.

There it was, my answer: This is a vacation.