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 Whispers, warmth, and the things that could make life glow. |
| June 8, 2026 This is Blogging Month at Bards Hall: 10 x in June. "The Bard's Hall Contest" StephBee  and Ẃeβ࿚ẂỉԎḈĥ  Sixth EntryMoonlight Thoughts June 8, 2026   Last night the moon was in its first quarter phase. The ocean is calm, the waves roll steadily onto the shore, and the moonlight stretches across the water like a shimmering path. Sitting on the balcony with the sound of the surf below, it is easy to feel peaceful here. Yet every year when we come to Myrtle Beach, I find myself thinking about a young girl who disappeared. It happened nearly twenty-five years ago. She had just graduated from high school and came to Myrtle Beach with friends to celebrate. It should have been one of the happiest weeks of her life. Instead, she vanished. The story haunted people at the time because there seemed to be no answers. Her friends said she stepped outside their hotel room to smoke a cigarette and never came back. There was no evidence of foul play. No witnesses. No clear suspects. The only person I remember being questioned publicly was an ex-boyfriend who had unexpectedly driven several hundred miles to Myrtle Beach that same weekend, only to stay for a few hours before returning home. Even that led nowhere. The girl simply disappeared. All these years later, there have been no answers and no resolution. Every time I think about it, my heart breaks for her family. I especially think about her mother. I do not remember hearing much about her father in the news reports, but I often wonder what it must be like to spend decades not knowing what happened to your child. Grief is difficult enough. Uncertainty must be even harder. That case stayed with me. Years before that when my own daughter graduated from high school, she wanted to come to the beach with a group of friends. I agreed, but only if they stayed at our condo. One of the advantages was security. North Myrtle Beach was a little quieter back then, but I was still a cautious mother. Some might even say a strict one. Every parent had to provide written permission, contact information, and emergency numbers. I wanted to know where those girls were and how to reach someone if something went wrong. The very first night they broke curfew. What they did not know was that I had arranged for the security guard to keep an eye on them and let me know if there were any problems. The next day I gave them two choices. Either the car was parked by 9:30 each night and they stayed on the property, or I would come down and act as a full-time chaperone. They quickly decided my curfew rules sounded like the better option. I was not trying to control their fun. I was trying to keep them safe. I worried about drinking and driving, getting stranded somewhere, or ending up at a party surrounded by strangers. Teenagers often feel invincible. Parents know better. A few nights later they stayed out later than usual, but the security guard called to let me know they were simply sitting on the beach in front of the condo watching fireworks. He checked on them throughout the evening and called again when they finally went inside. The next morning they packed up and headed home. Safe. Many years later my daughter asked how I always seemed to know when they were late. When I admitted I had paid the security guard to keep an eye on them, she laughed and said she had suspected that all along. Looking back, I know some of my rules probably seemed excessive to a group of teenagers eager to celebrate their freedom. But every year when I sit on this balcony and think about that missing girl, I know I would make the same decisions again. Sometimes the stories we hear become part of us. They shape the choices we make, the precautions we take, and the way we protect the people we love. Tonight the moonlight is beautiful. The ocean is peaceful. Somewhere down the beach families are laughing, children are playing, and young people are celebrating the start of summer. And I find myself hoping they all make it home safely. Word count:689   |
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