I believe that the saying “You learn from your mistakes” is a saying worth remembering. 2011. Year 7. Summer Vacation. As I heard the waves crashing on the white sand beach that one afternoon in Bermuda, I felt at peace. The sky was bright blue and the clouds were as white as cotton. My father, the adventurer, took my brother to leap off the cliffs and into the deep water below about 200 yards to the right of us. My mother, the children keeper, layed on the sandy towel, under the umbrella and kept a close eye on me. Or so I thought.

As my mother and I are sitting under the shallow umbrella, I look up at the sky. Not too far away on the horizon I notice a plethora of dark ominous clouds heading towards the beach. My father and brother were appeared out of thin air behind our umbrella. Their board shorts, soggy and wrinkled dripped on the soft sand turning it dark and firm. Clearly out of breath, they struggled to get the message out of their throats and into the air. “The weather… says..it’s…supposed to rain..” my big brother says. My father was always a planner. He envisioned us beating the crowd back to our hotel before the storm finally hit the beach. My mother agreed and that’s when we all decided to pack up camp and call it a day. In the eveland household we are brought up knowing our responsibilities and place at the beach. I gather up the sand buckets and water toys. I automatically know what I have to do. With the sand buckets in hand I bring my 7 year old legs to a sprint down to the water. As soon as I was done washing the bright blue buckets in the dimmer blue water I turned around to head back up to the hotel. But. I couldn’t see my family anymore. All I could see were the random faces spread across the 5 miles of the Bermuda beach. I ran up to the spot where I last saw them and remembered the words my mother had told me. “1. Find a women with children”. I spotted a women with black sunglasses on, lying in a beach chair so very peaceful. I felt the fear rising up inside my belly and into my throat, choking my words so they could barely come out. The lady with the white and red one piece bathing suit stood up slowly and calmly asked me to describe my mother. We started to search the beach for my mother family. Trembling, I tried to keep walking on the deep sand even though my legs wanted to give out. All I wanted to do was cry. I wanted my family. All of a sudden, I hear a faint call in the distance. “Nicole”. I heard it. My mother’s voice about 500 yards in front of me. A wave of relief washes over my body and I instantly felt safe. I couldn’t be happier to see my mother and brother’s face. My father sprinted out from the ocean, thinking that I had drowned. I was bombarded with suffocating hugs. My brain was no longer jumbled, my throat was now clear, and my trembling had vanished. 

After all of the commotion that’s happened in the 15 years I’ve been on this Earth, this memory was one worth keeping.  2011. The year that would live in infamousy for making mistakes and learning new lessons. Now looking back on the memory, I’m forever grateful for my overprotective and caring parents. I learned that listening to your parents will actually help you in the future, something I hope everyone learns sooner rather than later.