The Lake

11 Sep

My grandparents bought a little white cottage when my mom was a child.  It was their summer home…my mom and her brothers grew up there.  By the time she had her own family, my parents lived in Texas, and so every year I had to beg my parents to take our vacation there.  We only went every few years, but each time, I started counting down the days months in advance.

The house itself is nothing spectacular – just a humble white cottage with hand-me-down furniture.  But the moment you hit the dirt road and open up the car windows, you can smell the magic.  That fresh-water-evergreen smell.  There is nothing like it.  And this weekend, I needed that smell more than I knew.  As soon as it blasted through the windows, I felt my entire body relax and myself really breathe for the first time in weeks.

I have been awfully overwhelmed lately with well, everything.  I know I’m not the only person to occasionally look around and feel a little lost in their own life.  This place and its people remind me who I am.  The childhood memories of water squishing between my toes, learning how to fish, and the old twin beds my brother and I used to sleep in – it all grounds me.  Everyone I needed to see was there this weekend – my parents, my oldest friend and her family, and my best friend with hers.  People who see me for who I am and reassure me I am loved…I am worthy.

The weather was perfect and the lake serene.

p.s. How hot is my husband?  I mean, seriously.

The fishing?  One little perch.  Just enough.

And this.  This is why I fight.  For these moments.

For the first time in weeks, I feel like myself again.


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