Beve and I are off to the family cabin for the weekend, a kind of pre-anniversary mini-getaway with our close friends. Our anniversary falls a week from now, co-incidentally on Mother's Day. Just the other day Beve was lamenting the poor planning of that. But we weren't thinking about mothers back then, not our own and certainly not me becoming one. We were sitting in the snug little room where I lived in Epe, Holland, in early February, and chose two Saturdays in May as our options. When my mother checked with the church, it turned out May 12th was the only one available. Such a romantic way to choose a wedding date, don't you think?
Anyway, we're off for the weekend to spend some time with our friends who live such busy lives it takes a matrix and a whole lot of pencils with erasers to find time together. But we've done it. We're doing it. And despite their proximity to my family's cabin, they've never been there. I look forward to showing them the smells and sounds and sights of my large family's gathering place. Our gluing place, you might call that cabin.
By gluing place, I mean that it made us closer than we would otherwise have been. We're too spread out in age and interests, politics and faith. But we have this place. So the notion of family the place created has carried on to the next generation, and hopefully, to the next. And I think I'm also a little restored when I walk among those trees on that property. Ours isn't a perfect family. You should have known my grandmother. Better yet, probably not. But sense that those trees made our place completely cut off from anyone else, it was sweet. Green meadow, apple trees bearing fruit, blackberry bushes crawling with berries, a path cut through trees that arch like a canopy overhead, and a sudden clearing at the high bluff overlooking the sound. No matter what kind of fracas had gone on inside, no matter how pouty my grandmother had been, the place always restored.
Still does. I hope it does for our friends as well.
And it's supposed to be a warm, sunny weekend!
See you Sunday.