My Beach House // Westhampton Beach, NY
Big events in one’s life include your first day of school, your first boyfriend, your first kiss, college, your first job, and when your parents decide to sell your childhood home. But not just any home - your beach house.
My parents bought our house in 1986, I was 3. They had owned a 1 bedroom apartment down the road that was getting a little too small for the 3 of us. The ironic thing about this “new” house is that my parents used to rent my soon to be room in the 1970s - so it already felt like our beach house was an old friend that we were getting reacquainted with.
Almost every weekend in the summer and most weekends during the other seasons (before I moved away from New York) we made the trek from Manhattan East to Westhampton Beach.
To some the Hamptons is a place for the rich and famous - for me the Hamptons was the place I grew up and spent the majority of my childhood, teenage, and college years forming my love for the beach and ocean.
My house was perfection, maybe not for everyone because it was old, but for me it was my sanctuary. I will always remember the excitement of pulling into the driveway because I was just about to spend a weekend at the beach! I remember opening the gate walking past the pool and up the stairs to my bedroom. The smell of the cedar mixing with the damp warm air enticing you to walk around back and get your first glimpse of the sea.
I loved being able to wake up early in the morning, grabbing my bikini, and taking a long walk on the beach before breakfast. I loved spending time with my family at the beach. We’d go to the fish market and pick up fish, lobster, shrimp, and other coastal fare to cook for dinner. I loved watching my dad get up early on a Saturday and start smoking his Boston butt for his “famous BBQ. That was something I always looked forward to every summer - my friends who stayed at the beach house the weekend my dad cooked his BBQ were always in for a special treat. I love hosting my friends at the beach house. I’ve made so many amazing memories with so many amazing people. The house brought us all together because we were all able to enjoy the beach, the ocean, food, and some beers -when we were old enough. The house and my hamptons was all about family, friends and the beach. And when I tell people that I grew up with a house in the hamptons "The Hamptons” part almost feels like a dirty word, because I know more times than not that person has their own preconceived notions of what that means. Everybody has their own idea or experience of the Hamptons and this is mine:
day camp, tennis camp, rainy days at the movies, day trips to Montauk, pumpkin carving, sleepovers with friends, quiet time at the beach, epic kadima battles, surfing, shell collecting, bachelorette parties, Friday nights at John Scotts, Saturdays at the Drift, family BBQs, lobster night, 4th of July fireworks, reunion parties, beer pong, hammock cuddle time, laps in the pool, pig pong (yes pig pong not ping pong, card games, warm naps, thanksgiving feasts, grill nights, wine and cheese on the back deck, sunbathing, long walks on the beach, ice cream in town, sunsets from the roof top deck, biking down Dune Road.
I loved bringing my friends out to the beach house and sharing it with them. One of the hard parts about letting the beach house go is thinking about all the memories I thought I was going to continue to make through out the years. But change is inevitable, and it was time for life to move along. I will always have the memories and the photos and maybe one day I will have another beach house to share with my family and friends.