A reflection on my fondest memories—and the ones I’ve yet to make.
My obsession with the Frankfort Light began at a young age. My family started vacationing here in the late ’80s and I’ll be getting married nearby next September.
Year after year, my family finds a spot on the beach here and the adults watch kids run out on the jetty as the waves crash over the breakers. As a kid, I had to conquer my fear of getting caught by a big wave to get all the way to the end of the Frankfort Light’s long pier.
This fall, as I was in Frankfort preparing for the wedding, the weather was rainy, windy, cold, and cloudy. My mother and my fiancé’s mother sat on a bench and something called me to take the long, familiar walk down the pier. I retraced the same steps I have taken over the past 30 years—once assisted by a parents, now as an adult—and recalled some of the best memories of my life. The pier was more worn in places, and my steps more confident now.
As I walked back toward the beach, something told me to turn around. The pier was slippery and the light of dusk glowed against the darkening sky. I looked down and saw the lighthouse shimmering at my feet in a puddle. I was able to frame this perfect moment by being in the right place at the right time. I’ll make a pilgrimage here again next year, before I marry the love of my life.
