What I Really Know About Taking Vacations

The AARP Bulletin's "What I Really Know" column comes from our readers. Each month we solicit short personal essays on a selected topic and post some of our favorites in print and online. Below, readers share what they really knows about taking vacations.

We could not afford to fly in those days. Vacations had to be car-friendly. It was the '60s, and New York's Lake George was the place to be for the Portelli family. The four of us would look forward to this yearly trip as some would look forward to a trip to Europe. Not being able to sleep the night before the trip from the anticipation of leaving, we would be out the door and on the road by 5 a.m., watching the sunrise as we drove north from Brooklyn toward the mountains.

In his black-and-red '64 Plymouth, my dad would pack a week's worth of household goods for the lakeside cabin that would be our home for five glorious days. It was the breakfast stop on the road that told us we were really on vacation. I will never forget the smell of the pine walls or the aroma of the bacon and eggs, pancakes and hot coffee.

Waking up in the morning, hearing birds instead of traffic, I'd jump into my shorts, grab my coffee and my book and run to my chair by the lake. I'd sit with my mom while my dad and brother swam or played ball or Frisbee. That's how we'd spend the day.

Seeing my parents interact with each other made it obvious that they were in love. Playing Ping-Pong or pool in the resort's game room, they would act as if they had just met. Sometimes, we would all sit out on the lawn, blanket spread out, and watch a movie with the rest of the guests. We would gaze at the stars, which we never saw in our Brooklyn sky.

Those vacations were priceless.

By Tina Portelli (Brooklyn, N.Y.)

Over the past 30 years, my husband and I have taken many vacations and short business trips with our three children (now grown up). The trips I would consider "family vacations" were intended to be fun, to take us all out of our regular rounds of activities, to allow us to experience new places, and/or to reconnect with our scattered relatives.

Some of the lessons I learned were: very young children will not appreciate or remember an exotic trip, so don't plan such a trip in order to build memories; airplanes and public transportation are fun for kids, and relieve parents of some worry about driving; always expect someone to get sick, and be prepared with common remedies and medical insurance; relatives are more likely to want to see you on their own territory, which sometimes makes life complicated when little children are involved.

And, finally, once the children are no longer along on vacation trips, everything is so easy, but less fun—the "gee-whiz" factor is almost lost when only adults are present!

By Ruth Meszaros (Ladysmith, Wis.)

A couple of years ago, my daughter-in-law, Jill, my granddaughter, Rachel, and I went on memory trip. I had always romanticized about the family summer vacations to visit my grandfather in Port Austin, Michigan. I wanted to get back to my roots.

Port Austin isn't on the way to anywhere. As a child I remember the long car rides on old Van Dyke to get to Grandpa's house. It took all day from our home in Detroit, but it was worth it.

Port Austin was settled by many of my mother's relatives, and she could tell me who lived in each of the houses. They were big, old houses with names on the front lawn. It was charming. Downtown was two blocks away, and my grandfather had a shoe repair near the corner, next to the dairy bar. On the corner was a roller-rink that overlooked the water.

As we traveled closer to Port Austin, I was both nervous and excited. As we got to the "Welcome" sign, I became aware that something wasn't right. We drove down the main street and soon we were driving out of town. I couldn't have missed it, I thought. Memories can be deceiving, but I still couldn't believe I could have remembered everything so wrong. Downtown was nearly empty except for a few gift shops and a tourist information bureau that was closed. The big white house…that belonged to Uncle John was gone. According to the record, (it) had been torn down to make room for the Kooky Golf course. The Edgewater Hotel was replaced by condos. And as I looked at (my grandpa's house), it didn't seem that large and was even kind of run-down. I felt sadness because I now knew my memories would be forever tarnished.

I know that in the name of progress, old buildings sometimes have to be replaced by more modern facilities. But we left Port Austin and I don't ever want to go back. Memory can be selective. Things always seem bigger when you are a child.

Going back to revisit a place where you had good times isn't always wise. I thought it would bring back pleasant thoughts. Instead, it only reminded me that life is about looking forward and memories should remain intact. You can never go back and relive the old days, but you can fondly remember the times and places that were a part of your heritage. Memories are best left just that—memories.

By Janet Hibbard (Traverse City, Mich.)

Gary and I...raised three very robust children that were active in everything and, as hard as it was financially for us, we tried to show them the country during summer breaks. Our most famously remembered trip was to Disney World in 1985. Our method of packing was to go light, as we had a small family car. We allowed ourselves three suitcases only, which was sometimes a trick as the children got older and the clothes got larger.

We wore out one set of luggage pushing and shoving the lids down with force in order to make it all fit. The following spring, I purchased a new set of luggage and stored it in the attic without bothering to tell Gary. The old set was recycled into a set of storage-containers for the Christmas decorations.

Packing for Disney...I told Gary the suitcases were ready to load and that I would be in the shower while he packed the vehicle. Upon arrival, the children were restless to hit the pool, so the three suitcases came in for unpacking and distribution of clothing for all. What a sudden surprise as we all collapsed on the bed in hysteria: we had all the wonderful Christmas decorations that we had collected throughout the years but no clothing!

Oh my! What an expensive vacation that was—trying to cover kids age 6, 12, and 14 years old for a week. We seldom thought of Disney World the same way after that, but the kids were elated that everything they wore for the next six months had Disney characters on it.

By Janet Miner (Jacksonville, N.C.)

The late 1940's, into and through the 1950's, were the heyday of the family vacation. The "boys" had come home from war and were forming families at a rapid rate. The American automobile was in its ascendancy as a means of transportation and the economy was good enough that the women who had been the backbone of the at-home war effort were able to "retire" to take care of their homes and families. The expanding economy gave many breadwinners good jobs with ample vacation time.

Spending extended hours together in small spaces tested everyone's patience, but also fostered family cohesiveness. People had to amuse themselves while they traveled. They didn't travel in super-sized SUVs with DVD players in the back seat! Perhaps they read books or counted cows or spotted out-of-state license plates. But the jet era came along in the late 1960's, and the family vacation has never been the same.

By Arlene Hermann

When I was between the ages of six and eighteen, my family traveled from the flatlands of northwestern Ohio through the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia for our annual vacation in Washington, D.C. The mother of my dad's friend ran a tourist home there in the 1950s and '60s, and I anticipated our next trip all year.

Early on, I thought these annual pilgrimages to our nation's capital were required of every American family. I never tired of roaming the Smithsonian, visiting monuments honoring dead presidents, and walking at night in the steamy heat of mid-summer. A mini ball from Gettysburg, a piece of genuine "red tape" from Congress, countless salt and pepper shakers in the shape of monuments, and an Ike and Mamie plate document my travels. I remember well spending hours shooting a .22 rifle in a gallery in the Washington National Airport Terminal! Another must was the visit to Arlington for the changing of the guard at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, where I was mesmerized by the precision and dedication of the guards. My last family vacation was a high school graduation gift, and visits to D.C. since then have never captured the magic of those childhood adventures.

Perhaps those really weren't simpler times but, without question, those trips helped shape my sense of patriotism, loyalty, and dedication to duty for a lifetime. Thanks, Mom and Dad, wherever you are!

By Michael T. Moore

As the single in the family, I now fly across the country to join vacations with one sibling or another. Once there, we're off to the other's home a couple states away, gathering to mark one or another of the significant rites of passage of nieces and nephews. We always arrive early to help with the preparations.

What I really know about family vacations is that mine are pretty tame. Some may even call them downright boring. My sister's coworker was astonished that we'd drive several hundred miles three days early to help get ready for a party, not just show up for it. But what I have come to treasure is that we have a family that actually likes to spend time with one another.

By Sheila Barnes

The year I was born, in the midst of the Great Depression, all our family possessions were auctioned off on the steps of the County Courthouse; we struggled for the next 10-15 years for mere existence. Vacations—like allowances, hamburgers, and ice cream—were words from comic strips such as Dagwood and Blondie; they were not common words used around the table in my childhood days.

Later, with my oldest child almost grown, we did spend a few vacations at the beach; often, these times would be shared with my brother or other relatives. The joy of watching a two-year-old challenging her first waves will never be forgotten. It is gratifying, now, to observe my children, and theirs, enjoying family vacations. Differences, friction or family issues all seem to be put aside for a brief period in favor of memory building. My parents had no such opportunities, and I failed to create them as often as I should have; my grandchildren, hopefully, are enjoying this evolution.

I never witnessed my parents "playing." Although love, protection, encouragement, and discipline were ever-present, I do not recall them seeming to have much fun. Children need to see their parents as human; humans who enjoy themselves and each other. Families need to share time away from role playing that, all too often, consists only of work, school, organized activities, and structure.

What I really know (and learned all too late) is this: take time off with your family. Do something together that is different, will be enjoyed, and can result in treasured memories.

By Virgil Mincy

My parents usually had one week off so we would visit our relatives in Tarpon Springs, Florida. Mom and Dad would start packing a week in advance and stuff everything, including us, in the old station wagon and drive straight through about a twelve hour drive because of the short vacation time.

When we arrived Mom and Dad were exhausted, but we were rearing to go. We had to share bedroom space with the relatives and when we awoke the next day our parents and relatives were already up cooking for the tribe. Whew, I know my parents were exhausted! It was nice to be a child and just enjoy life while our parents and relatives and other adults did all of the work.

We would cram in all of the things that we could while visiting: the beach, shopping, going to Disney World, and visiting retired relatives in Florida and in Georgia on the way back home. When we got home my parents vowed never to try and do so much in such a short vacation time again! They needed a vacation from the vacation.

Now that I am a senior adult I realize they truly did the vacations for us. I did the same for my children and now they are doing the same for their children. Today I know that it was a lot of hard work to prepare and go on a family vacation but we all do it. I look back now in my senior years and I miss my grandparents, aunts and uncles, now gone, and I cherish the moments and photographs I have of them on family vacations.

By Elizabeth Taylor