Reliving a Memory

When I was a girl, my family spent our summers in Port Clinton, Ohio on the shores of Lake Eerie. Some of the most endearing memories of my father come from that time and place. I remember my dad being so happy there; fulfilled and at peace. He was at home on the lake.

We would haul our 26 foot Chaparral behind our extended cab diesel Dooley through the Smokey Mountains and then the flat lands of Ohio. I remember learning all the words to The Phantom of the Opera on one of these trips, and every  Hank Williams song known to man. Sometimes, if we drove into the night it was the voice of Crystal Gayle or Patsy Cline we played on the radio. And I learned to love Bette Midler...she was our favorite.

I can't say that I knew my dad all that well. I was a rotten pre-teen when he died and I'm not sure he knew how to relate to that. But I know that when Ken and I took Christian to the place where I spent all those long summer days, I felt my dad's presence. And for what it's worth, his ashes have probably settled at the bottom of the lake according to his wishes.

We found the old cottage we would rent every summer. It wasn't anything special. Even when I was a kid I remember thinking it was kind of a hole in the wall. But it was filled with family and food and late night card games and memories...so it was ok if it was a little run down.

I think the main reason my dad insisted on this particular cottage was because of the dock we used that accompanied the weekly rate.

One of our favorite things to do at the cottage was to watch the swans that lived in the harbor. They would likely have little cygnets trailing along behind them. The swans were almost magical as they floated so gracefully in the water...never getting close to any people or boaters...aloof almost, as if they knew they were supposed to be a mythical entity untouched by mankind.

And everyone who used the harbor protected them. I remember one time, some foolish teenagers on wave runners tried chasing them, and it was so sad to watch. But the harbor patrolmen immediately came to the rescue and were able to put a halt to such cruelty.

...I guess that's why I began crying when I saw the swans and their cygnets. There they were. Just as I'd left them all those years ago. And it seemed that everything was in its' place. Nothing was changed by time or technology. Nothing was missing, except my dad...

There was also a secret path that I loved to walk along as a child. It was unknown to the public. Only people who visited the harbor regularly knew of its' existence. So, of course, I wanted to take Christian on the path. The best part about the quarter mile trek is that at the end of the trail, it opens broadly into a beach that hardly anyone knows about (because no one knows how to get there...).

 While Christian wasn't crazy about the water (it was a smidge cold for his delicate sensibilities), it felt so good to splash through the water like a little kid myself. Remmy joined in the fun and probably had a better time than anyone! She loved the beach and the water that lapped along the shore. She reminded me of Lady, the German Shepherd mix we had when I was a girl.

We stayed at the beach for only an hour, but it made me feel years younger. I was so glad that Christian was able to visit the place where I have only the best memories. One day, when he's older, I'll tell him all of the stories and secrets of that place so dear to my heart, unchanged, from long ago. And perhaps, one day, he'll come to know and love the shores of the lake where his grandfather's spirit abides.