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.