It was 1984 when we first started looking for a lake place.
We didn’t have a lot of money so we were looking for a “fixer upper.” We found
an old trailer house, on a lot with a garage, on Big Pine Lake. I brought an
ice auger with me when we met the realtor that day so I could drill through the
ice to see if it was sand or muck out front, and bringing up sand, we both said
together, “We’ll take it.” So much has happened in the last 33 years. We used
the trailer for a while and then we built a new home and retired there. Built
another garage and fixed up the old one for all of the toys.
Seasons sped by, filled with a never-ending litany of
get-togethers. For me, it was the culmination of a dream I’d had for a long
time. A place at the lake for us to retire and a place for the kids to come and
visit. For many years it was the family entertainment center. Christmas,
Memorial Day and 4th of July; deer hunting and opening of fishing. Visiting
grandkids, swimming and water skiing, snowmobiling and ice fishing. It was
Crosslake and why wouldn’t you be happy? Still, I used to take a boat ride
around the chain and tell her, “Someday Babe, we’re going to be like the
Jefferson’s and move on up to the east side.” She’d smile and say, “No, we’re not.”
Then something happened and it was subtle at first. The
kid’s visits were farther and farther apart. Something was always going on with
them. Johnny had softball or Susie had dance competition. Their friends and
neighbors wanted them to go on trips with them. Work became more complicated
for them and they couldn’t get away. Then graduations, college, and weddings,
and all of the time Grandma and Grandpa sat and waited for another chance to
entertain. The allure just didn’t seem to be there anymore. Then six years ago
grandma took sick, and for a while they did their best to visit. Then she
passed away, and now my world revolves around my companion Pat and I, my
friends, my writing, and Molly, my dog. Oh my son comes when he can, but he
works a lot so it isn’t much but I give him credit, he tries hard to be here
for me. Last fall I bought a house in Arizona. I have lung disease now and need
to avoid the winters. Pat and I enjoy our relationship and that part is
wonderful but it’s all so different and I’m sure that’s true for both of us.
I have so many friends that had the same dream I had but
have moved on, back to the cities or closer to family. Some of them widowed,
some of them not able to take care of themselves any longer. I know my time for
that is coming, but I don’t like to think about it. The house is cluttered now
with thirty some years of pictures and mementos that I don’t have the energy or
desire to go through and weed out.
So I take one day at a time, and try to find happiness
wherever I can. I go to church and thank the good Lord for the good life I have
had, and ask for a few more good years. I go to coffee and reminisce with the
rest of the old farts who have the same problems I do. Pat doesn’t like me
talking like this because she’s more of an optimist than I am. Maybe that’s why
she’s so good for me. This summer just started and it’s already half over.
Lord, where does the time go? Lord, where has my life gone?
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