It wasn’t long ago that I remember my mother sweeping the last sandy guest out the door of her house in North Beach, as she lovingly complained about the sand on the floors, the sandy dogs and the wet bathing suits. I knew deep down she was thrilled to have all of us there, and her complaints were just the way she dealt with the sadness of everyone leaving. My mother’s home is now just a memory that is tucked away in a crevice of my heart as the physical house was destroyed after she passed away.

Longing for a new summer home on Long Beach Island, my husband and I purchased a small home in Surf City last summer.