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Keeping a father’s memory alive on Little Gasparilla

July 3, 2024
By Guest Columnist
BY KRISTEN VARELA-SCHILD At my father’s memorial, I was a little jealous. Jealous of the stories my brother told of connecting with my father nearly every weekend at their hunting lodge; sitting together side by side in freezing cold companionable silence waiting for the geese to come. Or at the hunting lodge in the summer, […]

BY KRISTEN VARELA-SCHILD

At my father’s memorial, I was a little jealous. Jealous of the stories my brother told of connecting with my father nearly every weekend at their hunting lodge; sitting together side by side in freezing cold companionable silence waiting for the geese to come. Or at the hunting lodge in the summer, learning to water ski and terrifying friends at sleepovers with stories of “The Axe Man” (complete with late-night charades involving walking by the window carrying an axe just to get a rise out of the friends).

I didn’t have those same bonding moments with my dad. He was a guy’s guy. I went hunting with him once until the goose he shot didn’t die all the way and…well clearly, this activity wasn’t for me. 

When my dad passed, I wanted to find a meaningful way to truly honor his memory. But what could that be? What did I bond with my father over? As a child, it was beach time. As an adult, real estate. The answer became crystal clear. I would pursue a new adventure for my family with the purchase of a modest beach house on Little Gasparilla Island.

After more than a decade, I can say with absolute confidence that I have achieved my goal of honoring my father’s memory with this island investment. We’ve since sold that initial home and purchased and renovated several other properties on the island. Yet every beach walk I take, the images come flooding back to me, clearer than the water lapping at my feet. 

The memory of swinging between my parents as a child (one, two, threeeee), feet dipping into the surf, deeper and deeper with each swing. My dad buckling me into a life vest, holding me tightly in the particularly rough surf of a black sand beach in Hawaii. Strapping into a parasail side by side with my dad when I was a teen to soar above the crystalline water (it’s amazing how quickly the sounds of the earth dissipate when you hover above it). Walking quietly with my dad on the beach, him tucking my arm under his, mischievously pinning it there, leading me closer and closer to the waves with each step. My progress from being afraid of the fish in the water to learning to snorkel and loving it, to becoming a certified Advanced Underwater SCUBA Diver with an Underwater Naturalist Certification. Enjoying the new adventure of a dive in Bonaire with my dad when we stayed in the same exact spot for the entire dive, reveling at how much more we noticed by just sitting still and watching observantly as the sea life drifted by. 

I fantasize now about how much my father would have loved this little bridge-less barrier island. I can imagine him spending hours with my daughters when they were little, fishing off the dock for dinner, teaching them to clean their catch. I can picture him letting them bury him in the sand and make him into a sand mermaid. As a former Navy seaman, I know he would’ve loved this boat-access-only island, making up every excuse in the book to run over to the mainland for one thing or another (bait shrimp, anyone?), just to spend time tinkering on the boat. 

I’m no longer envious of my brothers’ memories of my dad, rather reveling in my own special moments with him. Although he’s never physically been to Little Gasparilla Island, his presence inhabits the energy here. In that starter family beach house, the first thing I saw when I walked in the door was a large canvas print of a photo of my dad and me on the beach when I was a child. 

In the time since we sold that starter home, we’ve acquired and renovated several new properties on the island, and our little shorebirds have grown and flown the (beach) nest. I still find peace knowing my dad is watching over us smiling contentedly while we make these special new memories with our grown children and grandchildren as well. 

Kristin Varela-Schild is a seasoned writer with a rich background as a previously published automotive journalist. She has shifted gears and is now the proud owner and manager of luxury vacation rentals on Little Gasparilla Island, a tiny bridegless barrier island off the southwest coast of Florida. Combining a love for precision and detail in her previous work with a passion for providing unparalleled hospitality, Kristin brings a unique perspective to her writing. Discover her insights on travel, luxury accommodations, and island life as she continues to craft unforgettable experiences for her guests at LGIsland.com.