We tend to hold onto fond memories from our youth of special places and events. When remembering those things a smile generally comes to our face and we are often filled with a sense of well being and nostalgia.
It may be a place we visited on vacation, a family or friends home or simply a secret place that was ours alone.
For me, it was the old log cabin vacation cottage my grandparents owned for a time on Deep Creek Lake in Maryland which I recently painted to help hold onto the memory of the place and it’s importance in my life’s remembrances.
For me it was a safe port in the often violent storm that was our home growing up. With grandparents, aunts, uncles and assorted other guests in attendance, there were too many caring eyes on us for tensions within our family unit to boil over or to allow our parents to get away with the things they were allowed to with no one else present.
This allowed we kids to let our guard and hair down and simply enjoy being kids. The same also seemed to be true for our parents who seemed to be on their best behavior during our infrequent but enjoyable visits.
As a child, the lake and time with relatives gave us countless activities to enjoy. There were cruises and fishing trips along the lake in our grandparents skiff and Chris Craft speedboat, family card games at night and time listening to the adults tell stories from their youth. There was great food cooked up by our beloved Aunt Ethel and for me there was the endless checker matches with my grandfather that I most enjoyed even though I never won against him even after he suffered his stroke.
My grandfather was a champion fly fisherman and tried his best to teach us how to fish properly. While I loved fishing with the him and the family I honestly sucked at it. I remember one time standing on their dock for what seemed like an eternity without getting a single bite and then being completely humiliated when my younger sister walked out and as she was lowering her line a fish literally jumped out off the water and onto her hook. At the time I was demoralized by it but in later years it became one of the stories that was told and retold and eventually became only a funny memory for me.
That seems to be the way things go with such memories and places. In the end, we are only left with fond memories and nostalgia.
We all need such safe havens from the storms of our lives and it behooves us all to create such places for our children, grandchildren and relatives if at all possible. I know it’s easy at times to let bad memories take over our consciousness and to become angry and bitter. As such it helps to try and remember and hold onto the good memories also.
I believe that if we do we will all be a lot happier and healthier and there will be many more safe ports in this world.
Thanks for checking in this week. Take care and I wish you the best until next time.