Someplace Else

Our 24 Hours begins the night before-

We arrive late, the sun has set, the dog is panting, he knows the winding road and what it leads to- tires crunching on the rocky drive-way, and two hearts in the warm-lit window of the A frame at the base of the lake. They smile and wave and they come to meet us.

Car doors open and the camp screen slams behind us. This is the last time we'll have shoes to protect us from the too-sharp road-rocks, but you'll get used to it, I swear. Summer feet- we call it.

Go inside, hug who's waiting. No one needs anything, we are all just happy that you're here.

Follow me upstairs to where I grew up. The kid's room with a bunkbed AND a loft. When you're up there you can see the old roof. If you crawl over, you can peek into my grandparents room. I always wondered if they knew. That I checked on them, sometimes, from above.

Then the front room- leave your bags here- is where I got my first period. The day before camp started. Exactly the way that it was suppose to happen.

And, the first toilet I ever used independently, I won't tell you how old I was- but my mother will, when we're downstairs in the sitting room, looking through scrapbooks and reminiscing. For some reason, when we're here, the stories don't get old, no matter how many times they are told.

I love the sound of the laughter of everyone I have ever known, and tonight we are surrounded by it.

Next to the couch there's a small tin of coral and shells we can look through, or you can try the Rubics cube, and when you're ready...

Grandma's blueberry buckle is on the counter, we serve ourselves, with ice cream on top. Loaded with blueberries picked that day from the bush out by the Big Rock and still enough for, well, you'll see in the morning.

And we quiet down, and it's time to sleep, it's dark out and there's no tv,

So brush your teeth, Tomorrow, we rise with the sun, but for now back to the front room with the cathedral ceiling. When our eye's adjust tell me what you see- in the knots in the wood -until we fall asleep -without even having to try.

Wake up to the smell of bacon, whether you eat it or not, we've got options in this house- vegetarian, gluten-free, whatever you need, but most importantly, Gramp's makin' blueberry pancakes, on the griddle, enough for a village.

Coffee's on so choose a mug, you've got lots of options. "Isn't this a nice pad" says a frog, on my personal favorite.

When we finish meet me out on the dock in the sun. We'll be quiet and wake slowly, we're not in any rush. Time move's different here, there's somehow always just-enough.

And when we're warm enough we'll change into our bathing suits and in the lake we will be for the whole afternoon. Treading water and swimming far, until hunger calls us back in for lunch. And we can make ourselves sandwiches and cool down with fruit punch.

Then there's a thing that we call FOB, Feet On Bed, is what it stands for in our family. You don't have to sleep, but a break is a must, you'll be glad that you did, you need the down-time, trust.

So get lost in a book for an hour or two, as we dry off and relax and digest the day's food. Then when it's time, we'll get ready to go, back out on the lake but this time on a boat.

Gramp's canoe, so well loved, forest green, fits us both. Or kayaks, or paddle boards, you can rest or you can row. You can fish, or we can talk, or just paddle and float.

We'll watch the sky change color as sun starts to set, and how lucky are we, the night's winds carry us right back in.

As we dock, people wave, and the party begins. We're shucking corn, and setting the table surrounded by family and friends. Play badminton while you wait, with contestants of all age. Then dinner is served, on the porch, and never too-late.

We'll tell stories again, about that day, having made many more memories to fill another scrapbooking page. And everything tastes better, in a well-earned kind of way.

At dusk watch the bats dive and catch the mosquitos.

Then we'll sit by the fire, the night's cool air moving in. And I'll make you a s'more, I can toast any marshmallow to golden perfection.

As we reverse down the long rocky road,

two hearts stand and wave. They stay until we’re long out of site.