Mountain Lakes Memories and Growing Up Away From Home

August 28, 2012

My first memories of Mountain Lakes are golden, they are colored by that magical belief that my parents could solve every problem in the world. I remember The Club, and egg throwing and the fishing contest at Birchwood. I remember Hap, the king and dictator of The Club, and musicals and baiting my hook, or having my Dad do it for me.

I was so lucky. We were so lucky. To have all those moments of utter confidence that the world was kind, that Easter was about catching a hardboiled egg, and that someone would always be there to help with the nasty business of fishing.

At a point, it turned. Dad got sick, I grew up, the fish stopped biting, the eggs stopped flying, I don’t know the exact moment. I trace my steps, we trace our steps, here, or while we try to sleep, or search for the right words for a eulogy, or a christening.

It turned for everyone, the things we remember are not the things that exist these days.

These days are different. Let us celebrate them, what is to come, and what is past.

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