Friday, July 6, 2018

The lake house


     She sat at the edge of the dock on a warm spring day. Her feet just touching the water sending shivers through her. Looking out over the lake she remembered times spent here with family and friends. There was still an old tire swing just behind her on the hill that led up to the old house. She remembered the boys trying to outdo each other but mostly to get the attention of the girls who laid on the dock sunning themselves and telling stories usually about each other. She remembered her father collecting old tire tubes and putting air into them for a lazy float around the lake that sometimes lasted for hours. One summer her dad brought a small boat there. It had a slow leak and when too many of them got in it there was usually a race with a bucket to keep the water out. They usually ended up swimming back to the dock pulling the boat behind them.

 So many holidays were spent here, each bringing with it the imagination of her parents that brought the place alive with their handmade decorations and hard but loving work. She sat and remembered as many of those days as she could before having to leave for the last time. She sold the house on the lake to a young couple who told her about their dream of having a place where family and friends could gather and make memories to last a lifetime. The taxi was waiting as she took one last look at the place that made her who she was, a wife, mother, great, great grandmother and a friend that lasted for her forever.

www.facebook.com/mikeoconnor-author
www.michaeloconnorwriter.com

No comments:

Post a Comment