This plaque is on a bench on the boardwalk in Long Beach, NY. All along the boardwalk there are benches with dedication plaques. Many of them memorialize those who were lost in 9/11 that grew up in the area. I have sadly come across the name of someone I once knew on one of these benches. Sobering indeed. Yet it makes me think how much of a comfort it must be to the family members to have these in such a special place.
This is up there with one of my most favorite places on earth. I spent much of my childhood on the beaches there, as my grandparents lived walking distance to the beach. Their house had an outdoor shower and there was nothing better after a day spent in the sand and surf than to return to that outdoor shower.
This past weekend I spent both days walking on this board walk. The first day was more of a stroll. A ritual walk with 3 generations of my family. One that we have done hundreds of times, in all seasons. It is our ‘place’. It is Home with a cap H. It is the place where each and every one of us feels like we belong.
Not bad right?
So yes, I surely did enjoy the moment.
Here are a few more favorite shots to give you a feel for the place.
There is a special bike lane which makes it a great place to ride.
It is not uncommon to see flowers on the memorial benches.
Hands down the sweetest sight of the day, this couple was quite elderly and extremely slow-moving, but you could tell that they take this walk every day and probably have been for many years.
Haven’t had enough of me yet? You can also read me at 50-Something Moms Blog. For photo enthusiasts, visit Leaving the zip code, photos from outside the comfort zone.
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i could cry but i don't have time 
Under the boardwalk!
Beautiful place….beautiful memories….crying!
love you!
love you back
My life, once a month, growing up – Long Beach. My father grew up there. My grandparents sold the house and bought an apt on Shore Road (711) when you could still have a beach view. I had tickets saved from Skee Ball on the boardwalk; all us cousins did. Steak at Lenny’s Steak House and Italian at a place I can’t remember. My dad always ordered the veal piccata and we’d always have an antipasto plate. Memories. Always.