2010
As Tessa turned her battered and rusty SUV into the overgrown drive at the lakeside cabin, she inhaled deeply and immediately smelt the weeds and wildflowers that she had crushed under the vehicle tires. She turned the corner around the tallest evergreen tree and saw the family cabin as it came into view; the peeling paint, winter shutters still firmly covering the long windows and piles of leaves, pinecones and miscellaneous garbage on the wrap-around deck. There was a sad, neglected look to the cabin and yard area that had been civilized by the family and it was slowly turning back into the untamed wilderness that surrounded it. The silver grey paint of the cabin and the dark red stain of the cedar deck blended softly with the trunks of the various trees that framed this place of memories, with the blue green of the lake a gentle background. The two and a half storey building had tall windows and French doors on the lake side to admire the view and the stairs on either side of the deck had worn steps with railing that needed a fresh coat of paint. The stones gracing the foundation of the cabin came from the unending supply that had been removed from the lake and beach over the years. The family had joked that you could tell what year a picture had been taken here by the level of stones on the foundation; although Tessa noted that many of the stones had fallen and no one had been around to see to the repairs.
The cedar deck built so many years ago to take advantage of the quiet beauty of the lake was showing its age also; the stain worn and more than a few boards missing nails. This building held so many of her memories and had seemed to age along with her throughout the years; the timeless beauty still visible beneath weathering of the wind, rain and sun.
There were three large stones that had been laboriously moved to the front of the cabin and the men had chiselled the family name and the year the cabin had been built. The younger men had added the names of each family member as they were born and it now looked as if a new stone was needed if the tradition was to be continued. She smiled when she realized that she was now thinking about the future.
She shut off the engine and sat while she gathered the courage to start the summer routine for the first time by herself. She paused for a moment and allowed the peace and quiet that was here to soothe her as it had in the past and she hoped this would be the place to mend her broken heart and give her the courage to start a new phase of her life. A time without her parents or her husband; a time to redefine who she was as she now took on the role of matriarch of a new generation.
The smells and the sounds were still the same; the smell of wildflowers and water plants, of the sun on the grass and sharp smell of the evergreens. There were fires outside somewhere, with the smell of wood smoke and hotdogs; it had rained during the night and the fresh smell of the sand and earth mingled with the scent of gas motors and citronella candles.
The gentle quiet could still be heard under the constant murmur of other people who shared the timeless beauty; the buzzing of insects investigating the summer flowers hidden in the grasses, the gentle birdsong from the trees seemed to be answered by the birds on the lake and the breezes moved the trees in a familiar, hypnotic way that had lulled her to sleep for so many summers of her life.
How could she walk on this beloved, familiar ground and re-acquaint herself with the memories of forty years without bruising her already broken heart? Every board, every plant; every step she took reminded her of someone she loved and many of them were not here to share her life anymore. Her cousin and best friend that had come out here to share in the memories for only just awhile and never had the chance to grow up; the uncles and aunts whom had left their footprints at the lake and on her heart; and other family members who would share the cabin no more. Tessa was here to introduce the fourth generation to this place of family and needed some time to reconcile the past before she could move into the future. She realized that she wanted her grandchildren to love this place as much as all the other children had over the years and perhaps find a measure of peace and family here; her family’s legacy to the next generation.
She absently patted her hair into place; a nervous habit, although there was no one here to see her. She knew from experience that the rising humidity would cause it to frizz and more curls would escape the braid she used to keep her hair under control. The long, thick grey hair showed a shadow of the dark auburn her hair used to be and was coiled around her head in a coronet. Her face had a few more wrinkles than in previously years and although the more recent ones were caused by worry and sorrow; there were enough lines at the corners of her eyes and mouth left there by joy and laughter; a testament to her life of love and family. Dark brows framed her expressive eyes made more luminous by her contact lenses. Her father called them chameleon eyes; grey and stormy when she was angry, bright blue when she was happy and green when she was sad or upset. She was the only member of her family in her generation with changing eyes; Joanne had the same and had passed that trait on to her children.
Her trim figure still retained gentle curves from her younger years, although her illness and melancholy from the last few years had taken a few too many pounds off; weight she could ill afford to lose. She still shopped in the women’s petite section and dressed casually in comfortable jeans and tees; the selection today included a light blue shirt and matching blue jean jacket.
As she looked around at the clearing, she thought of what she had lost and the memories of family brought a smile to her face and tears to her eyes. There was a time in her youth when she and her siblings would spring from the car and rush down to the lake to check out the temperature of the water; then race each other into the woods that surrounded the cabin to see the animals, birds and plants that made their home on this little plot of land her family discovered anew every summer.
Soon they would be called back to help unload the various vehicles; open up the cabin and get everything ready for another year of swimming, exploring, roasting food over an open fire and spending time with family; a routine made familiar by repetition and easier with the multitude of helping hands.
The first year at the lake, the clearing by the water vibrated with the sights and sounds of people claiming this piece of land for themselves; complete with laughter, teasing and family squabbles; the axes, hammers and shovels adding to the general hum of hard work and love that went into the construction of this cabin on the shore.
Many of her memories here were happy ones; although the knowledge that most of the people who left their primary mark on the cabin were gone made her heart ache and the trip bittersweet.
Another generation would come to explore the cabin and surrounding woods. They would make their own memories and remember the family that had come before.
They were always finding something new in something old; her Uncle Bob had framed in the windows and doors and they never did open properly, even when they were new. The Adirondack chairs that she built with her Uncle Walt and cousins littered the deck, safe from the seasonal wear under tarps; along with the half-size chairs her son had helped to construct years later.
She heard the wind rustling the treetops; each one with a story to tell. There was the pine by the cabin that scratched at the second story window and lent an authentic sound for scary stories at bedtime and the weeping willow that had been a playhouse for so many little girls; beginning with her and Angel. She could see the various birdhouses that the boys had built in shop class and brought out here to hang in the trees; each one with the name of the builder on the bottom, painted there by Uncle Walt so they would be remembered.
Many family members had been taught fire making skills here each year and they practiced their new knowledge in the circle of stones that had been built by the shore. The younger children and some of the adults learnt to swim here and marked their success by swimming out to the floating dock amid the cheers and whistles of the family watching.
The boathouse that was built close to the tree line was in need of a paint job also; the red and white paint just now starting to fade in the hot summer sun and the cold winter winds of the north. It was the newest building on the lot; having been built by her son and his cousins in their teens to protect the watercraft and other miscellaneous water toys that had accumulated over the years. Another indication the lake community had grown and expanded around them over the years was the chains and locks on the buildings.
This was the one place where her family’s history seemed the strongest; a place where everyone was welcome and the passage of years was marked by accomplishments and recollections. The spirit of the lake cabin stayed with the families when everyone loaded up their vehicles and returned home at the end of the summer; the trials and triumphs following each child into the new school year and helping to shape the person they would become. The family understood that even if they might be having problems elsewhere, the lake cabin would help them. The calm, unchanging feeling that encompassed you when you walked up the steps; almost as if you stepped back in time; reminded you of a time in your life when your worries were few and your family was around you. That feeling followed the future generations back every year to this little plot of land that had been claimed by a family.