I’m sitting on the Lake of the Woods in Warroad, Minnesota.  The water is so calm and clear.  The sky is a calm light blue with a few storm clouds to the South.  The wind is cool coming off the water.  The campers and boats are out in force on this American long weekend.

The lake itself brings back memories.   When I was a kid my Mom and Grandma would bring us to the restaurant with our bathing suits.  After lunch my sister and I would change and head out to the water and swim.  I can still see my Mom and Grandma watching from their seats inside.  The water was absolutely freezing but we didn’t care.  Now there are signs, “No swimming allowed.”  The lake shore has been dug out for the boats to dock so it is no longer safe to swim.  It is progress, but sad.  The restaurant has been beautifully renovated and expanded.  And there are more play structures.  But the memories are still here every time I come.

Warroad is where my Mom was born and lived most of the years before marrying my Dad.  But the house out in the country is really where the memories are kept.  No one lives there anymore.  My Mom’s brother and sister keep the yard enough so you can drive in and walk around.  My Aunt has her flower beds, it is her retreat.  If you walk out through the field to just beyond the tree line there is a beautiful creek, or as my Grandma always called it, the “Crick”.  The garage is still there and holds a thousand memories.  My Grandpa died a few months before I turned 4.  But I have quite a few memories of him, for the amount of time we had together.  When I’ve discussed these memories with my Mom and my Aunt we discovered that these memories are from the spring and summer that I was 2 and turning 3.

I remember my Grandpa taking me out to the garage, him opening the doors and seeing the whole floor covered in baby chicks in their warmers.  The smell comes back to me like yesterday and it’s comforting.  I remember him putting them in my hands and the little feet poking me.  I was amazed and a little frightened all at once.  We would also go out to the garage to build things.  Well, Grandpa gave me a little hammer, a piece of wood and some nails.  He was doing the building or fixing.  But that stuck with me.  And when I go into the garage his work shelf is still there with some of his tools.  It takes me back in time instantly.  I also remember him taking my sister and me to the store.  We climbed up in his light blue truck and had to take turns sitting by Grandpa.  He took us up the road a few miles to the little store in Swift.  It was so exciting just to be with Grandpa.  And from the days of seatbelts not being required; I guess my Grandparents had issues with me sticking my head out the window while they drove.  So, one day I was sitting by the flowerbed at the back of the house and I asked Grandpa why he had no hair.  He told me that one day he stuck his head out the window when he was driving really fast and it his hair just flew away.  I never stuck my head out the car window again.  I remember waking up in the early morning and seeing him sitting in his chair in the living room and I would climb in his lap and we would wait for the rest of the house to wake up.

Grandparents are so incredibly important, if you are fortunate enough to have them.  I missed out a lot from my Grandfathers, them both being gone by the time I was 4.  But I wonder if I treasure the memories that I do have so much more because that’s all I’ve got.

Well, I have to go find my children.  They are off making new memories with their Dad and Great Aunt.