As I settled back into a shady lounge chair and reached for a magazine, I thought, “This is different.”

Usually our vacations are like our regular lives — an effort to cram as much as we can into not nearly enough time.

But last weekend, the kids and I flew over to Kona, where our hotel, the Sheraton Keauhou Bay Resort, was the destination, not just the place we dumped our stuff while we explored our surroundings.

Sure, we did some sightseeing, driving down to the sourthern-most tip of the country when strong winds shut down several attractions, as well as driving up toward the ritzier resorts to kill time before our flight home.

But for the most part, we did what we never do on vacation: We relaxed. We read. We watched a couple TV shows and a couple movies. We slept as long as we wanted to because there wasn’t anywhere to rush to in the mornings.

In all honesty, it’s the kind of trip I never want to take, but I feel better for having done it.

Living on Oahu, I’ve never felt compelled to swim in pools on the Mainland or to do more than get my feet wet at beaches that aren’t as nice as the ones just down the road from home. In our travels, we’ve sought out beaches to find seals, headed to harbors to cross bays and rivers, or taken photos of lakes before getting back into the car and traveling on.

I’ve never seen the allure in hitting some tropical locale just to sit and enjoy it.

But when you’re sitting in an oasis in otherwise rocky terrain, why do anything else?

My 5-year-old embraced the spirit of the retreat, changing into her bathing suit as soon as we got into the room, and insisting that her brother and I join her at the pool. Once there, she marveled at the sandy bottom on one end of the pool, then waded in and paddled around with an inner tube until she discovered the Jacuzzi.

“Mommy!” she yelled. “Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!”

She wasn’t drowning. She wanted me to experience the bliss of sitting in a hot tub and letting all my stress bubble away. She assumed it was my first time. Of course she did. In her reality, her mom isn’t one to sit around just soaking things in. Then again, there’s a reason for that. When you’re traveling with kids, though, you can’t just sit back and bask in warmth.

Once my daughter conquered her fear of the water slide, it was goodbye hot tub and hello stairs. Up and down we went, over and over and over. She’d beat me to the top of the stairs but I’d slide first to be at the bottom to catch her as she shot out the chute, squealing with glee every time. By time we left the pool for good, we’d perfected the routine so that she barely skimmed the water before she was in my arms, head so far above the surface that the splash of her impact didn’t even touch her face.

All that relaxation had given way to exhaustion, but it was good. The next time we travel, we’ll have to figure in more time for both.

 ***

My only real agenda on the trip was taking this shot:

To match it up with this one from more than three decades ago:

This entry was posted on Tuesday, January 13th, 2009 at 11:26 pm and is filed under Family Tree. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.