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Monday, August 24, 2009

Up at the Lake

When I was just ten years old, my parents purchased a piece of property on a small lake in Wisconsin named "Clear Lake".  The water in the lake was so clear at that time that you could see all the way to the bottom of the lake in all but the deepest water.  It was crystal clear and beautiful.  

Through the years my family visited the lake often...almost every weekend.  We started by cutting paths through the brush and trees to make paths and we set up a tent in a small clearing.  There was always so much work to do...cutting down the brush and small trees, putting in a well and a little outhouse in the woods.  We cooked over an open fire and a hibachi grill and swam in the lake at a beach down the way.  My dad purchased an aluminum boat and some oars and my sisters and I would go out in the boat for hours, singing camp songs and enjoying the lake.  I caught my first fish at Clear Lake and even once a large snapping turtle.  One summer I collected 21 frogs in my Girl Scout sweatshirt pocket and brought them back to show my parents.  Finally we let them all go after my dad suggested "frog legs" for a snack!

There are many memories that I have of time spent at Clear Lake. Over the years our little campsite grew into a garage(for storing the camping gear), a garage with a porch and windows(where we stayed instead of the tent), a garage with an addition, kitchen and basement that later evolved into my parents' summer home and in 1986, their retirement home.

"Clear Lake" is what we call the place now.  "Let's go up to Clear Lake" means "Let's go up to Wisconsin and stay at  grandma's home!"  It is so much more than just a beautiful, clear, little lake!  So many memories were made there! Many first fish were caught there, many first boat rides, many wonderful barbecues were cooked, and many card games were played there.(Monopoly also!)  I think that the place, Clear Lake, grew to be so much more than a place for all of us in my family.

Journal from "A Day at the Lake":

This is a beautiful morning!  I am up in Wisconsin at mom's lake house.  It is beautiful as it always is to sit at her kitchen table and look out the window at the lake, to listen to the birds and watch the neighbors fish on the dock.  This is the feeling I want to recreate in a retirement home for us....the same restful healing, loving place of restoration for the soul.  As I think of it, I realize that it is not possible to recreate that feeling away from this place because the feeling comes from the history here, the memories here, the love of family , the joy of exploration, the kids growing up! I know I need to allow God to create for us a new "sanctuary" for our own family, but it is hard to accept that this is possible when the feelings of "home" are so strong for me here!

When I am up at the lake,  my mind always floats to images of the past here- the wonderful yesterdays of my childhood, with mom and dad working so hard to make this a home., the kids playing in the water, learning how to fish, boat , water ski.  Dad's spirit seems to be here sometimes.  I feel it.  I can almost picture him leaning against his rake, looking out on the water.  

I know that my family feels the same way about Clear Lake.  My sister  loves to come and get away from the responsibilities she faces daily and read a book or two, and just  bask in relaxation.  It's extra special when mom takes care of us as well.

My youngest son, Michael wrote a song about Clear Lake.  I'll share the lyrics with you here.  I hope you enjoy it!

Clear Lake by Michael Mehlan (2009)

And if these walls could talk
They'd tell a story
of my family
so candidly.

And it these old trees
could see
They wouldn't understand
what they mean to me.

They share all these things you see
They're loving things
Like a canopy.

It's where me 
and my brother
pretended
We could walk on water.

And out on this lake
Where we escaped
We played in its wake

And on the ice
We skated around 
Each others' advice

We played on this beach
The sandy way
on a sunny day

And if these walls could talk
They'd tell a story
of my family
so candidly.

And if these trees could see
They wouldn't understand
what they mean to me.

But the water will rise
But the water will rise
The water will rise
The water will rise
And consume the fire.

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