The Season of Sisters, March 2026

They Came in Waves

People arrived, overlapped, and left again.

First my sister and Serge were here. Then Lise came down. Serge’s sister, Lise, stayed after the others left.

While she was here, Catherine arrived. She stayed a few days. After Catherine arrived, Diane came. Then Lise left and Tara arrived. Tara left. Diane stayed the longest.

There was always someone coming or going. Each person had their own way of being here.

Off to Sail

Lise liked simple days. Biking. The beach. Volleyball. Staying in. Cleaning. Fixing up the apartment. Cooking good dinners.

Catherine liked long walks and jogging. She liked to get dressed up and go out to elegant restaurants.

Tara had the worst luck. It was cold and rainy most of the time she was here. She got one good pool day. The rest of the week the weather kept her off the beach and away from the boardwalk.

Diane wanted everything. Casinos. Beach days. Elegant dinners. Dancing in front of the bandshell. We would leave early and come home late.

At Hard Rock Casino

The rhythm of the month changed with each person. But some things stayed the same.

Beach Walks

Afternoons by the pool. Evenings in the hot tub.
Bike rides through the neighborhoods.
Walks along the beach and the boardwalk.

The Water Taxi.

Dinner out in dresses and sandals. Drinks at the bar while watching the room.

We sailed on a catamaran.
We swam in the ocean.
We listened to live music.
We wore big hats and light clothes.

One night a woman in her seventies danced in front of the bandshell. She wore all white, her hair piled high like Madonna. She moved like she had nowhere else to be.

At the bar we had long conversations with people who had come from everywhere—New York, the Midwest, Europe. Many had decided to stay.

On the catamaran we met a young woman who had fallen in love with one of the crew. She moved here to be with him.

We found a Greek place with a happy hour—seven-dollar drinks and seven-dollar appetizers. We went back more than once.

We talked to strangers.
Other travelers. Other snowbirds.
People passing through.

There was always something to watch. A lot of Hollyweird.

The apartment filled and emptied and filled again.

When it was over, I was left with the memories.And piles of laundry. An assortment of things left behind— a bathing suit, a hat, a hair clip.