Saturday, June 25, 2016

Revisiting the Past

My dear friends, occasionally I feel a need to reconnect with the past, so Friday morning, under a magnificent June sky, The Man and I drove up to the little lake house where my in-laws used to live, a house my father-in-law helped build, a house that holds a lot of memories, both before and after Ernest passed away much too early, in 1985. 

In the beginning, the house was olive green, and it remained the same color for as long as we knew it. 

Through the years, family members gathered at the lake house to get away from the hustle and bustle of the big city, to spend a few days sharing food and fun, enjoying a little fishing, throwing a football around, or shooting the breeze in the shade of the trees.

Ernest and Mildred were crazy about their grandchildren, seen here at the lake house in December, 1982.

The Man and our precious little daughter and nephew fishing off the pier, in the summer of 1987.

Our daughter turned four the weekend these pictures were taken, in 1990.

We were all sad when the lake house was sold a couple of years later, but things change and life moves on.

It had been awhile since we’d driven by, but it’s one of those places where not much changes, except maybe the color of the houses that line the unmarked streets of this secluded neighborhood. The little green house is now a pleasant shade of blue, looking as sturdy as ever, and I hope it remains so for many years to come.

As we made our way down the old road that leads into town, I was captivated by the beauty of a summer day, perfectly framed by blue skies and green earth, just as it should be. I noticed everything we passed—the cows sitting in the shade, a wide field dotted with hay bales, a patch of Texas wildflowers. 

I knew I would carry this sunny afternoon with me, to remind me of all that was and is right in the world.



  1. I so enjoyed this, my friend.
    Both your beautifully written words and the touching photos.
    I enjoy a drive past my grandma's lake cottage from time to time, and am overcome with memories and nostalgia. I also wonder about the family that lives there now...their lives and dreams...
    Life does indeed go on.
    Have a cozy weekend. : )

  2. I so know how you feel. My Mom and Dad lived in their home for 57 years and when we sold it after they had both passed, the first thing they did was paint it blue. The first time I drove by, I cried because my Mom did not like blue. John reminded me it was not my Mom's house anymore and I reminded him that it would always be my Mom and Dad's home. He agreed.

    Have a great weekend.


  3. Oh, Dayle, this is lovely. I have that same memory of a lake house that my granddaddy bought for my mama and grandmama about a year before he passed away. So from 1973 to 1981 that was our home in the summer. Why we let them sell it, I'll never know. They offered it to us and we still said no. But now? I want my children and grandchildren to experience those lake summers with skiing and swimming and fishing. Hindsight. Those are my memories, I guess. My children and grandchildren have their own memories.

  4. What a sweet story. I have the need to reconnect with the past...maybe a little more than I should. It's like balm to the soul to re-live these special moments.

  5. What a lovely jaunt down memory lane, Dayle. Ohhhh, wouldn't it be nice for you and the Man to buy the lakehouse? Once again, memories could be made there. Susan

    1. I wish we'd been in a financial position to buy it when Mildred sold it, but we weren't. We've already got our name in, should the current owner decide to sell. It would be wonderful to have it back in the family.

  6. Loved scrolling through these pictures that hold such beautiful memories for you. It's sad sometimes that things have to change, but memories are powerful.

  7. That image of Anna examining the MinOLife is simply arresting!
    It's good you're near enough to revisit the lake house and be genuinely happy for its new residents.

  8. "things change and life moves on"
    Sigh . . .

  9. What a lovely, moving trip down memory lane. It is good for the soul, isn't it, my friend? God bless you!


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