Throughout my adulthood, I’ve lived on Maryland’s Eastern Shore, right across Chesapeake Bay from the area where I grew up in Southern Maryland. There are three things these two regions have in common: a slower pace of life; a summer patchwork of yellow corn, green soybeans, and golden grains; and life on the water. I don’t think I could ever call anyplace home that wasn’t connected to water or didn’t contain memories of crabbing with Granddad.
From the time I could walk until I was eighteen, there was no place in the world I wanted to be other than at my grandparents’ house, particularly out on the boat with Granddad. Our mornings spent pulling up crab pots were the inspiration for my children’s book, Crabbing With Granddad. Those days were some of the best of my life.
Wanting to Stay
I have vivid memories of being about three or four years old, holding onto Granddad’s legs for dear life, begging him with tears in my eyes, “Please, Granddad, don’t let them take me. Don’t let them take me home.” Of course, there was no choice. At some point, I had to return to my parents, who were and still are the best parents ever! There was just something magical about being at Granddad’s house.