On The Water

As you've most likely deduced from my previous entries, "M" spent a great deal of her lifetime on or near the water (when she wasn't in the air, of course!).  Not only did she sail the majestic Caribbean, glorious Gulf Coast, and nearby Long Island Sound with her late husband, but she was also an avid fan of canoeing.  Their long-time home sits atop of a hill that overlooks a series of smaller hills leading to a private pond on which "M" was able to travel about in her small skiff.  What a sight that must have been!

 

During some of my visits to her home, "M" and I would ever-so-carefully walk down the windy driveway to the lower garage.  There, we would peer through the trees to get a glimpse of the pond below.  "I used to be able to hike right down there" "M" would recall fondly.  Then, looking down at her frail body and the cane standing next to her for support, she would sigh sadly as she realized the truth about her age. "How old AM I?" she would often ask me.  The question usually resulted in a guessing game in which I would continue to prompt, "Higher," "Still higher," and finally, "Just a little bit higher."  When we got to her actual age, "M" would exclaim with surprise, "Really?  I'm THAT old?"  Then her mood would brighten again, as she concluded that at her age, she might as well enjoy as many moments as she possibly could!  That is one of the things I admire most about "M".  That indomitable spirit!

 

At the lower garage, which was well worn by years of inactivity, "M" would ask me to open it, so we could explore what was inside.  The most distinguishable item was a small wooden dinghy that took up a good portion of the garage.  There were also a bunch of old bicycles, and an assortment of paddles, shovels, and mysterious old tools that must have had a purpose at one time.  We walked to the garage many times during my visits, and the contents were always the same, as were "M"s recollections of her past, which made it so enjoyable. 

 

Her favorite tale was of the dinghy.  It was white with blue trim, and it was hand-crafted many years ago.  "M" and her husband used to paddle it regularly in the pond at the base of the hill, often docking it there to enjoy a picnic lunch.  As I gazed down at the serene setting, I tried to imagine "M" rowing happily, her then dark brown hair blowing gently in the breeze.  But something was blocking my image, and I just couldn't conjure up a proper picture in my mind. 

 

It was her hair!  I could not picture "M" with anything but her distinguished-looking, Snowy White Egret head of hair!  To me, it was absolutely beautiful.  I couldn't imagine her without it.  Yet there had actually been a time when her hair had been dark brown, similar to the color of my own hair.  It dawned on me that my "M" was someone very different than the one who paddled that white and blue dinghy years ago.  Although I was filled with a curiosity to know more about who "M" had been in the decades before our acquaintance, I was also quite content with the lovely lady with whom I was lucky enough to share so many different experiences with in the present time.

 

Back in her home, "M" showed me a another amazing item.  It was a photograph of a pre-teen girl with dark brown hair at the helm of a small sail boat.  The picture was at least eighty years old, and it had been preserved exquisitely on an 8" x 10" wooden frame.  I recognized the face in the photo immediately, even though the hair was darker.  Some people are distinguished by an appearance that remains the same throughout their entire life span, and "M" was definitely one of them.  Her eyes were bright, and her expression was full of joy and wonder in the old photograph.  "M" pointed to it proudly and declared, "That's ME!"  She then went on to describe how she won that race at the famous yacht club that her father had  once been Commodore.  And she still had the trophy to prove it!  As with the picture of "M" teaching the student how to fly, this one soon became one of my favorites, creating an image in my mind of a young woman filled with a passion for living.  I realized how lucky I was to be in the company of a now old woman who is still driven by that same passion.

 

In "The Woods", "M" and I were able to share some experiences together on the water, and these are memories that will remain some of the most defining moments of my own life.  The family's camp was built on a peninsula, with the buildings being located on the Eastern side, where they were able to catch the morning light... and the daily passing of the mailboat, of course.  On the Western side, the property was next to a swampy area that allowed for much more privacy from passing tourists, a secluded area full of truly natural wildlife. 

 

That's where the boathouse was.  It was a beautifully built structure that had been lovingly fixed up and maintained by "M"s son, who restores old boats.  The west side of the boathouse was framed by a long wooden dock, and enjoying the afternoon sun from that vantage point truly felt twenty degrees warmer than the temperature in the now shaded camps to the east.  The family, and their dogs, frequently sunned on the dock, as well  swam in the clean, clear, cold (in my not-native-to-the-Adirondacks opinion!) water directly in front of the boathouse.  "M" also loved to absorb the sun's rays, decked out in dark glasses and a well-worn cap of some sort.  Sometimes, however, she would get a bit overwhelmed by the intensity of the afternoon sun, and retreat to the cooler, and vastly darker, side of the property where our camp was located.  There we would share a cup of tea... and some more stories.

 

On occasion, "M" would agree to go for a ride on the water.  Although she still relished being near any body of water, "M" was fully aware that she could not engage in certain activities the way she once did, like swimming and canoeing.  I could see the melancholy look in her eyes as she watched her teenage grandchildren frolic in the lake, carefree and content, their whole lives ahead of them yet to be shaped and sharpened.  Part of me empathized with her expression, having already lived five decades myself, filled with a series of "if only I had done (fill in the blank) differently." I wondered if "M" had as many as those as I did, and decided to ask her over our next cup of tea.

 

But now was the time for "M" to return to the water, and her family had a well-honed and extremely careful system for assisting her onto what was their family jewel, a stunning, shiny mahogany boat hand-crafted to absolute perfection.  Obtained by "M"s grandfather well over a hundred years ago, the boat had at one time been well-known and highly regarded in the area.  Residents and guests would gather on the shore to watch the charismatic craft cruise by.  Decades later, "M"s son had taken on the Herculean task of restoring the boat to its original condition, which once-again included  the admiration of the locals as the beautiful boat passed by.

 

I was beyond honored when I was asked to accompany "M" on the first boat ride of the season.  Not only was it a chance for me to view the spectacular surroundings from the middle of the lake (and don't doubt for a second that I didn't have my camera/phone firmly in hand, fully charged and ready to click!), but it was an opportunity to experience something with "M" that had been a significant part of her life since she was a young child.  All of my time spent thus far with "M" had been in the company of a delightful old woman with the ability to recall tales from her very colorful early years in great detail.  For that alone I was grateful!   But now I would be actually sharing a new memory that would bring us both back to "M"s remarkable past. 

 

I don't think I need to tell you that the ride up and down the chain of lakes with "M" and her son was incredible.  Something truly beyond words.  For that reason, I will share photographs with you that were taken from the boat.  Pictures really DO paint a thousand words, at least for me they do.  I hope they do for you as well.  What a gift to be able to pass on this experience with anyone who has been brave enough to join me on the journey so far.  Thank you for traveling with me!  With us!

 

One last comment before I end this entry.  Do you know what the most amazing sight for me was during that boat ride with "M"?   It was her hair blowing gently in the afternoon breeze, framing the look of  joy and wonder on her distinctive face.  It was the same exact expression she had as a pre-teen girl sailing to victory at the yacht club over eighty years ago!  Only this time, her hair was pure and most wonderfully white, like the Great Snowy Egret!