At seven minutes to seven the sun drenched the cabin


Good morning my dear one,

We left you with step-mom and dad yesterday after another week of turmoil. Turmoil is my word for it, maybe you would call it bliss because you came over to my house to stay until mom and dad worked out the kinks in their two year marriage. Daddy gets enraged and when he does the whole house shakes, actually the earth does too, maybe all of Bonny Doon knew something was amiss. We read that story of the horribly grumpy bull a few years back who everyone steered clear of when he was in the field because of his grumpy roars, charging hooves and red glowing eyes. But remember? It turns out that bull had a sticker in his back foot, and after some brave little creature, a bird, I believe, pulled it out, life changed for him, for everyone on the mountain. I wonder what is stuck in daddy’s foot, if it was remedied, would he, too, bask in the sun in the pasture of his blessed life and enjoy all of you more fully? Enjoy himself? Would mommy, too find more joy? Usually, dear fellow, its all more complicated than a sticker.

Then there’s your step-mom. She has her own demons that haunt her, chase her around sometimes get her. Its all grown up work, all pretty private and personal. Your job is to find your way through it all. Be a kid. Climb, run, swim, hike, draw, paint, put that nose in a good story. They will work it out when you are too busy playing to notice. I am glad mommy is back. That is why Grandpa and I could leave, we felt things were okay enough for you and your sister to be safe and attended to…your little brother is secure when everyone is in their places.

So here we are at the lake, seven minutes to seven the sun peeked, showed, then screamed its way into the cabin, warming everything in a flash. I sat waiting to notice the time, watching a merganser dip and glide alone, the only single life on the surface of the lake, while below fish slipped through the thick chilly gelatin lifting only their mouths to nip at the insects on the surface. The cabin danced with reflective ripples from the glassy lake, yellow light like the Aurora Borealis dancing up the stairs, across the stones of the fireplace, “Thine Be Ilke Joy and Treasure, Peace Enjoyment Love and Pleasure” Shines for a moment on the fireplace leaving Robbie Burns in the shadows. They lit up Annie lying on her dog bed attending to her food pad where something needed some licking. Then it stopped and the cabin was bathed in pure yellow light and warmth.

If you were here you’d be sitting in the chair I am in, in front of the fire drinking hot chocolate. Liza would be there, too, wrapped in her fuzzy blanket, the one with the giraffe print on it and yours around you with the zebra print. I can hear the chairs squeak as you jockey for the best place to be warmed by the fire. Take turns adding sticks, talk about yesterdays swim, fishing, the hard hike and what you’ll do today. But you are not here. I am letting you go for this trip to stay with your family, for me and Grandpa, who just got up (I bet he was waiting for the sun to come in) to be here at the cabin alone. All I hear is Annie’s licking, grandpas sniff and the pages of his magazine turn after he finishes reading the page. Tick, tick tick go my fingers on the ipad keyboard. I miss you all and leave you nestled there where I can imagine you getting ready for your art class, eating scrambled eggs, mommy¬† asleep…oh, that’s enough grandma, get back to the merganser, the nuthatch, the Siskins. Get back to the cabin. This is my week to unwind, pull out for awhile, hike, paddle and sit and watch the birds, the water and the sun come in the cabin each morning. I love you, gma