Last weekend, my husband went up to our camp in the Adirondacks with our children. I had to work on a Saturday since my replacement person had to go on college visits with her son. They were so excited! Our camp is really not a 'camp'. We've been teased through the years by those who expect no running water and an outhouse. Actually, it was built in the 1940's by my Great Aunt and Uncle. Back then, waterfront land in the Adirondacks was not expensive since it was still a challenge to get there. They built this small cottage for themselves and for my Great Uncle's mother. They would go on the weekends, and his mother would stay all summer. Since they had no children, and my mother was an only child, she would go up there occasionally, but when my Great Uncle died and my mother was married, my parents would not only go up to enjoy it but also to maintain the place.
As a child I believed it was a magical place with all the woods around us and the beautiful lake right out front. My memories are so clear, and I lived for the weekends when we would pack up and go up there.
Looking back, I forget all of the difficult times. My father was suffering from a mental illness and was self-medicating with alcohol. Back then, doctors would prescribe Valium to calm him down, but it was before more research was done. Now, there are drugs on the market which help balance the chemicals in the body in order to comfortably live with the illness. But back then, we just lived with it, knowing we didn't have a choice and I relished the moments when he acted 'normal'.
When my husband and I started dating, he would comfortably tease my Dad. Hubby became one my Dad's favorite people. After we had dated awhile, we would invite him up to camp.
Little did I know that my then-boyfriend hated every minute of it. He would go up and try to help my Dad with the work. My Dad made every chore a nightmare. Dad would have us rake up pine needles in the yard so no one would slip. He would have hubby move piles of dirt from one place to another. Once, when my former brother-in-law was up there helping, he took hubby aside and said, "Welcome to camp Dachau".
In the meantime, after I helped work in the yard, my mother and I would spend time together and have a great time. Hubby never complained, but I couldn't figure out why he never wanted to go up there.
It was only after my father died, he told me why. Now it seems so obvious. No wonder he hated it!
My parents had bought/inherited the place and now hubby and I take care of it. Our children have grown up there, but times have changed. When I was little, my sister and my cousin and I could walk to the playground and then to town to buy candy. We would sit on the big rock next to the main road and wave to the cars going by. No one objected when we walked through their yards near the lake to get to the little gift shop nearby.
Today, we wouldn't dream of letting our children walk to town alone. The little gift shop is now a dreary little house. The kids, at first, complained that there was 'nothing to do'. As they've grown up, they have found a lot to do just around the property. They build sand villages in the sand pit in front of our new place. They have built a fort up in the woods behind our place. They are in the water quite a bit, jumping in over and over. We'll take our pontoon boat to a bay farther down the lake where the water is shallow. They'll catch minnows and float around in their plastic blow up toys.
Everytime I go there, I feel myself relax with each passing mile. Up there, there is no concept of time. Bedtime is non-existant, and we can sleep as long as we want in the morning. We are so fortunate!
Anyway, as for last weekend... I had a weekend where I could clean my kid's rooms and do chores around the house that had been ignored due to our busy schedules. I called up there one night, only to find that I had interrupted an intense card game. Hearing their laughter over the phone made me so happy. They were truly enjoying themselves!
My memories of the mountains are bittersweet, but I sincerely hope that theirs contain nothing but good times.
As a child I believed it was a magical place with all the woods around us and the beautiful lake right out front. My memories are so clear, and I lived for the weekends when we would pack up and go up there.
Looking back, I forget all of the difficult times. My father was suffering from a mental illness and was self-medicating with alcohol. Back then, doctors would prescribe Valium to calm him down, but it was before more research was done. Now, there are drugs on the market which help balance the chemicals in the body in order to comfortably live with the illness. But back then, we just lived with it, knowing we didn't have a choice and I relished the moments when he acted 'normal'.
When my husband and I started dating, he would comfortably tease my Dad. Hubby became one my Dad's favorite people. After we had dated awhile, we would invite him up to camp.
Little did I know that my then-boyfriend hated every minute of it. He would go up and try to help my Dad with the work. My Dad made every chore a nightmare. Dad would have us rake up pine needles in the yard so no one would slip. He would have hubby move piles of dirt from one place to another. Once, when my former brother-in-law was up there helping, he took hubby aside and said, "Welcome to camp Dachau".
In the meantime, after I helped work in the yard, my mother and I would spend time together and have a great time. Hubby never complained, but I couldn't figure out why he never wanted to go up there.
It was only after my father died, he told me why. Now it seems so obvious. No wonder he hated it!
My parents had bought/inherited the place and now hubby and I take care of it. Our children have grown up there, but times have changed. When I was little, my sister and my cousin and I could walk to the playground and then to town to buy candy. We would sit on the big rock next to the main road and wave to the cars going by. No one objected when we walked through their yards near the lake to get to the little gift shop nearby.
Today, we wouldn't dream of letting our children walk to town alone. The little gift shop is now a dreary little house. The kids, at first, complained that there was 'nothing to do'. As they've grown up, they have found a lot to do just around the property. They build sand villages in the sand pit in front of our new place. They have built a fort up in the woods behind our place. They are in the water quite a bit, jumping in over and over. We'll take our pontoon boat to a bay farther down the lake where the water is shallow. They'll catch minnows and float around in their plastic blow up toys.
Everytime I go there, I feel myself relax with each passing mile. Up there, there is no concept of time. Bedtime is non-existant, and we can sleep as long as we want in the morning. We are so fortunate!
Anyway, as for last weekend... I had a weekend where I could clean my kid's rooms and do chores around the house that had been ignored due to our busy schedules. I called up there one night, only to find that I had interrupted an intense card game. Hearing their laughter over the phone made me so happy. They were truly enjoying themselves!
My memories of the mountains are bittersweet, but I sincerely hope that theirs contain nothing but good times.
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