It was early when I awoke. I listened for any sounds indicating another early riser but could detect only the hum of the very full refrigerator and the early chirpings of birds outside my window. Quickly and as softly as possible, I got dressed by the light of early dawn and went to the kitchen. Making a fast pot of coffee, I slipped outside to enjoy the quiet and peaceful dawn of a new day on the lake. The sun was beginning to rise and the sky was awash with the pinks, and pale blues and soft purples of early morning. It wasn’t just any day however; the family was gathering and this could be the last peaceful moment for a few days. One family had arrived the evening before; our daughter and son-in-law and their four young children, the oldest of who was now almost 14. Today the other two families would arrive; four more adults and four more children, all under 14 as well. How many other long weekends had the family gathered in just this place?
I remembered the early years when there were no children and the adult children came less often but enough that the lake house was established as the place to be for the major summer holidays. Each summer we had generously “given” the house to each adult couple for one weekend and those were likely the best memories the adult children had of those years. Weekends without parents and with lots of college friends, sleeping everywhere and having midnight forays on the lake, drinking and playing cards and generally carousing with abandon all day and most of the night!
Then the children started to arrive; three in three months that first year and then one a year for the next five years! I was usually one of the baby watchers in the early mornings; going for walks, pushing a variety of strollers, looking for baby ducks and geese at the shore and of course, imagining the dinosaurs and lions who must be in the woods. In reality we were trying to keep the house reasonably quiet for the later sleepers. The children remember those walks and the requisite afternoon pontoon boat rides, particularly to the “jungle cruise” area of the lake. During those rides, the fathers on the boat subtly made all kinds of jungle noises while the children looked for the monkeys, tigers and elephants they heard. They only saw turtles and fish, but oh, what they imagined they could possibly see!
Now they were all older and so far, still gathering on these long, lazy weekends. The cousins had each other to be with and did not seem to miss friends on these weekends. Each year I wondered how long this could possibly last. I smiled to myself thinking of the summer I had introduced “skinny dipping”. The oldest of the cousins were 9 and had been having fun for hours covering each other up with sand. When it was dusk they wanted to get the sand off and started for the house, thinking they’d take showers. I suggested (strongly because I didn’t want that sand in the house or going down the drains) they go out to the end of the dock, slip in the water and take their suits off. They looked at me as if I was crazy, but being bold and willing to take risks as long as they were together, they all ran out the dock. I will never forget them laughing and yelling out there, one of them calling out “This feels wonderful!” It’s become a rite of passage now as they turn 9 or so and on hot summer evenings, I can sit on the deck, hearing them laughing and splashing but being very careful to stay modestly under water.
Other rituals have been established over the years that show no sign of getting old. Having bonfires and making some’mors as the sun sets is a major expectation of each visit. Of course the Dads enjoy that as much as the kids. Another is holding a big game of “Capture the Flag”. Everyone plays in the early evening, including grandparents and moms. Of course, nowadays I am totally relegated to being a “Jailor”. I remember how shocked but secretly pleased the dads were the first year the cousins beat them at this game. And, we still take those long lazy pontoon rides, but only after each of the cousins has had their turn on water skis or the tube being pulled fast and furiously around the lake. Unlike the early years when the jungle cruise was required, their favorite pontoon ride now is when the water is calm and we stop in the middle of the lake where it’s deep and cold. They take turns then jumping off the sundeck on the top of the boat, displaying their talents for dives and cannonballs. This year the youngest cousin is 7 and I wonder if he’ll be brave enough to jump or will it be another year before he tries? It’s been heart-warming to watch the cousins encourage each other over the years to try new water skills. They seem to have known instinctually which cousin needed calm and quiet encouragement and which one would respond to dares with loud laughter.
The appreciation for nature that has been instilled in each child has been such a pleasure to watch. I had written a small story years earlier about a feral farm goose who I called ”Gus”. The cousins watched out for Gus whenever they were at the lake, wanting to be the first to spot him each spring. And, they still eagerly await the arrival of the baby ducklings and laughingly watch the mother duck’s efforts to keep her babies corralled. There’s always one or two of the ducklings who bravely attempt to swim beyond the boundaries established by the mother. As the brave little duck gets close to the boundary, the mother squawks loudly, eventually at times having to swim over toward the ducking to get him or her in line. I recalled with joy when one of the cousins recognized herself in the brave little duck, saying “that duckling is just like me, always wanting to go further and faster than my mom wants me to go”.
Another “must do” each visit for many of the children with their Granddad and fathers is wetting a line at the end of the dock. This is such great quiet time for each of them. Lots of childhood concerns (and occasionally adult concerns) have been pondered, discussed and solved while patiently waiting for a fish to nibble on their bait. And, how excited they still are when they get a bite, even if it’s a 4 inch small mouth. All fish must be saved in the “live box” for at least a day and each of the children take turns going down the dock, checking on the fish and congratulation the one who caught it. They are always ready to release the fish at the end of the day and the fisherman who caught the fish gets the honor of putting them back into the lake to swim away and be caught again; a never ending cycle of life and lessons at the lake.
Noises now began to invade my recollections that suggested the household was stirring. Time to go in, begin breakfast and think about lunch and dinner. These are the times when the dishwasher runs endlessly and someone is always cooking something for the next meal. Ribs were in the refrigerator; another of those rituals that started when the cousins were younger and refused most meats until they tasted the sweet, tangy barbeque ribs that were so easy for little teeth to sink into and chew. Now a weekend is not complete without several racks of ribs for them all. Suddenly I heard loud calls of welcome and joy; another family had arrived out front; the gathering is beginning.
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