Thanks For the Memories

“For I know the plans I have for you”, declares the Lord, “Plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” Jeremiah 29:11

As I locked the door behind me and heard the familiar sound of the wooden screen door shut, I knew I was closing the door on 12 years of the sweetest memories one could only hope for.

We had come to Maine this last time to remove a lifetime full of treasures, saying good-bye to a home we had built. I always like to tell people, “this home is so me” and indeed it was.
From the minute we decided to build a summer home in Maine, always my dream, I searched for the perfect plans. It would have a large screened in porch, a great room with a fireplace and a kitchen with a huge counter where we could all gather. And eventually a music room would be added where the grand piano would stand and bookcases that sagged with the weight of cherished books. And so it was.
But for all my plans the best part could not have been drawn on any architects board. No, those were the memories which came from family and friends who passed through the door those many years to make it the perfect summer place.
An oversized bulletin board hung as you first entered where pictures from the previous summer were posted. Returning guests would stop to see if they had “ made the board.” Such great fun remembering the year before and seeing the changes in those who came year after year.
Lobster dinners on the screened in porch were the best. Lazy afternoons consisted of naps, or wonderful conversations about everything and about nothing.
I watched my grandchildren and their friends learn to swim, tube, water ski, and yes even “skinny dip” with Mame when they came of age. Girls only.
Young couples came to visit as boyfriend and girlfriend, then again as engaged couples. They would marry, we would attend their weddings and then they would bring their babies. How wonderful the circle of life.
Our daughter and granddaughters lived next door. The well worn path between the two houses was known as the “mommy trail”, and every morning since they were toddler’s our three granddaughters and eventually cousins and friends would walk the mommy trail. Carrying blankets and bottles, they would come streaming in for pancakes at Mames. Papa and I had a pancake tossing contest that went on for years. I will now admit Papa won since his pancake mark is still on the ceiling, while mine never reached such heights. I loved the sounds of the children screeching as we wildly steered the skillet to catch the pancakes on their downward spiral.
One of our daughters was married in Maine and we held the rehearsal dinner at our home. Her future in laws were “city folk” and when I invited them to join us for a bon fire down by the lake, they asked “ are there any bears out there?”
Some of our favorite times were in the evenings after a huge dinner; the children would disappear into the bedroom that held what we fondly called the “tickle trunk”, which was full of dress up clothes, shoes, hats and accessories. They would choreograph a play and then perform for all. I remember the shy children who at first could not be dragged onto any stage let alone perform. Soon they too would be captivated by the magic of the evening and would appear in a costume they had concocted singing and dancing their way thorough the night, encouraged by the ever zealous audience.
In the dark of the night we would fall asleep to the haunting call of the Loons that lived on our lake, and we would awake to those same wonderful calls. We would gather in the mornings on the porch with our steaming cups of coffee and languish away a few hours still in our pjs just sharing our thoughts. Time seemed to stand still in that wonderful house. We had time to just enjoy each other, no schedules, nothing pressing us. Our biggest decision seemed to be what to have for dinner.
The fourth of July was always one of my favorite days. Huge meals would be planned. A special craft for the children to make hats, purses, tee shirts, flip flops always decorated in red, white and blue glitter, which I would find in crevices years later. As soon as it was dark we would gather blankets and sweaters and hop onto the pontoon boat to drive across the lake, where Camp Kokatosee provided us with a fabulous fireworks display. Singing God Bless America at the top of our lungs with all the other boats that had gathered was a sight and sound to behold.
When we pulled away that last day I saw the ghosts of times past smiling at me. As we drove down the “bumpy road” and gave one final nod to our sign on the tree marking the way to our home, I had only a small lump in my throat.
You see I know now that those years were gifts, ones I truly enjoyed and appreciated and was able to share. Those memories will not be left behind they will be with me forever living in my heart.
I know God has a new plan for me. He has opened a new door and is taking me in a new direction. Who could possibly be sad with God’s plan on the horizon. But no matter where He leads me I will have left part of me in the little grey cottage, with the big ole’ porch .
And so I say:
To all of you who came and made it so special THANKS FOR THE MEMORIES AND GOD BLESS.