April 30, 2020
Tonight, like many nights, since our world came to a standstill, I am wide awake and fighting the demons of insomnia. I’ve been taught to get out of bed and find something to relax and unwind, until I am ready to crawl back into bed and fall asleep. I am sure you all have heard, of one too many experts recommending the avoidance of blue light emitting devices an hour or more before calling it a night. You know all the ones we keep on our nightstand: our cell phones, our smart watches, our tablets or our must-have other gadgets, just in case we don’t miss an e-mail or a social media post while its charging away at night, just awaiting to be picked up and played with.
I seem to have no problem falling asleep as much as it is staying asleep for the duration of the night; however, once awake, my sleeping time is done, unless I can catch a midday nap. While I awake last night, I decided upon using excerpts from other posts from my blog and stitch in new material intermittently of my childhood summers and recalling how much simpler life was being a child back in the 1970s/1980s than it is for so many of our today’s youth.
My parents were immigrants searching for a better life than the life they would have lived in the face of communism coming into Hungary. They both met in Toronto, Ontario through my Mom’s aunt who has already left Hungary to Canada. My parents left Canada prior to my birth, so I could be an American, this held high importance, as it meant I was given the opportunity to have a life better than they did and to be able to have a solid education. I don’t think in their wildest dreams they expected me to complete three college degrees and the course work towards the coveted doctorate. The incomplete dissertation, well that’s a blog post for another time.
My parents were middle class blue-collar workers who hard for every possession in their home. It wasn’t until my adult years my Mom shared with me their struggles. They both proudly assimilated into the culture, customs and language of their new homelands. Not only did they have to learn English, but had to start a new life with nothing and still work long, hard hours to make a humble home. Unlike most youth today, I never knew what I didn’t have as much as knew all the great things I had. I may not have had the latest fashions nor the largest Star Wars or LEGO or even the latest video game collections, but I was not lacking in my childhood. I find it unspeakable how many youth today are aware of their family’s financial situation and are still begging to have the latest and greatest of clothes, toys, electronics and anything else the wishing for the same, if not better possessions of their best friend. My fondest childhood possession was not the materialistic items but the memories my parents created for me.
I remember spending my summers on the Severn River, in Muskoka, Ontario as if it were yesterday. We packed the car and headed north the first Friday after school was out for the summer and to only return home just before school started up in the fall on the Tuesday after Labor Day. My Mom and I stayed up the entire summer at the cottage. Dad made the lonely 7 hour plus drive every Friday night after work to spend the weekends with his beloved family and friends and his cherished cottage. He continued this migration until we moved to south Florida in 1982, the beginning of Grade 7. Once we moved to south Florida, my parents took the even longer drive from south Florida for a week, maybe two if they were lucky to spend at the cottage.
Once my Dad retired, they stayed the better half of three months or more. The exception when he battled cancer and recovered from a series of strokes. The reality of me owning it became very real when I saw it becoming increasingly difficult for my parents to maintain it and watching all what they enjoyed most, begin to slowly fade away. As much as I loved our cottage, the thoughts of keeping it up both financially and maintenance was not worth the amount of time I would actually be able to enjoy it. I was afraid my cherished memories would become only my memories of worry and burden if we didn’t as a family decided to sell our cottage. Our cottage sold to a younger family in the spring of 2013. I don’t think my Dad ever forgave my Mom and I for him not being able to hold on to it for his last days.
I stared aimlessly out at the ocean on Dad’s birthday this past July, reminiscing countless memories of my many Muskoka summers. My senses fill with bittersweet happiness, as pressing pause to capture one moment in time will forever preserve the memory. The cottage now belongs to another family building their own summer of traditions and memories. I hope their only regret is not having spent enough time to enjoy the morning peace of seeing the river, glisten like a freshly cleaned mirror or the echo of family and friends visiting and building the foundation of their life’s new memories.
Winters at our cottage,
Long hikes in from Lantern Marina to our cottage,
Trips to the outhouse in dreadful cold winters,
The snowmobile rides, fearing the ice would crack in the middle of the river,
The tobogganing and snow sledding,
Building snow forts and tunnels,
Did I mention how much I hate being cold and wet?
Summers at our cottage,
Swimming and jumping off the dock,
Boating trips to, Torpitt Lodge to get laundry done and fill our water kegs,
And getting ice cream at Stanton House or Lantern Marina,
Playing with my summer friends I knew since I was born after a long winter,
Fishing off the dock, hoping to catch enough.
Did I mention how much I loved my summers?
Trips into Gravenhurst to do our weekly grocery shopping,
Visiting my parents’ friends, some who liked children more than others,
The trips to Canada’s Wonderland and the Canadian National Exhibition,
The day trip to Toronto to visit family and friends who didn’t have a cottage,
I reminisced how the cottages on the Severn River slowly fill with people escaping the city's chaos for the upcoming weekend, the silence of the week awakens. Like an extended family, Hungarian neighbors with a splash of Canadians begin to fill our small cottage with constant chatter and loud laughter. With plentiful music, various food and flowing drinks and lifelong friends this American's childhood is filled with nostalgic memories. Some stayed inside the cottage while others gathered on the porch and some drifted between both, enjoying friendships forged decades earlier, while others retreated to the dock for a midnight swim. Countless friends have come through the warm, welcoming doors over the years where my parents always offered a place to stop by for a drink, a chat and a bite to eat and celebrate life's gift of living in the present.
My mind wanders back to the present, I continue to stare out to the ocean and its early morning calmness. As an adult, I miss Dad’s excitement he felt every spring, when it was time to get ready to head to the cottage. It’s even more nostalgic than I thought, when I see posts on social media of cottages opening for another summer in Muskoka. I miss the carefree summers on the dock or porch at the cottage, just enjoying the whispering winds and casual conversations. I regret I didn’t get to enjoy them with him as I grew older but my career seemed to hinder the number of days I was able to get away.
I often wonder if he remembered the time I phoned from the porch telling you how I wish I could celebrate his birthday with him. The surprised look on his face was priceless when I walked up to him while he was still talking to me on the phone as if I was home in Florida. How about the time we went fishing and the fish were almost jumping into our boats and had the best freshwater fish dinner? I miss walking the Gravenhurst farmer's market with Mom and tasting farm fresh fruits and vegetables I never saw in a grocery store. I remember Mom and her friend. even bought fresh chicken waiting to be cleaned ... I really mean cleaned! I remember dragging the groceries with Mom, from the boat up to the cottage - this was tiring but had to be done. After the third trip - I was ready for a jump into the water to cool off.
How about the impromptu guests who showed up? It didn't matter there was always enough food and drink and place to sleep for the night.
The memories are countless…
For many of today’s youth, the most important to them is what new electronic gadget can they talk their family to buy them for their birthday or how to binge watch their favorite streamed shows on the television. Much is lost in the simple joys of a good book to read outside with winds whispering in the summer’s silence, going for a walk with your friends with the only rule is to be home for dinner or just spending time with loved ones and making memories of a lifetime.
When many begin to say, “I just can’t wait back to get back to normal.”, this introvert looks at the moment in time where God called a time out and gave us a chance to ponder our misbehavior. I began to value what I took for granted and know I don’t want everything returning back to the way they were. I acknowledge taking this off social media and give full credit to Carla Rodrigues for her words and gave my spin, nevertheless; it remains apropos for my next prayer.
· when a friend grabs me and pulls me in for a hug, I actually take the time to appreciate the gift of their embrace.
· when school resumes and you are dropping your kids off, you take the time to thank the staff for the amazing gift that they give to your family.
· when I sit in a crowded restaurant I take the time to look around at the smiling faces, loud voices and thank God for the gift of community.
· when I see a person or situation that needs prayer, I hope I pray as passionately and fervently as I have these past few weeks.
· when I take a moment to thank God that He provides us with the necessities of life and the amazing people who work so hard to keep us supplied and taken care of.
· when I never take for granted the ability to hop in the car and visit a friend, go to the mall, take my kids to a movie, etc.
I only hope we all remember this was quality time we got to spend with loved ones, took time to appreciate and not always rush and maybe found something new to pass time. Mine all began with me quilting my summers by a patchwork of memories. I pray we take the lessons and challenges over the past few weeks to create a new normal and leave behind the one tragically filled with seeing who has the most, the newest and the best.
I seem to have no problem falling asleep as much as it is staying asleep for the duration of the night; however, once awake, my sleeping time is done, unless I can catch a midday nap. While I awake last night, I decided upon using excerpts from other posts from my blog and stitch in new material intermittently of my childhood summers and recalling how much simpler life was being a child back in the 1970s/1980s than it is for so many of our today’s youth.
My parents were immigrants searching for a better life than the life they would have lived in the face of communism coming into Hungary. They both met in Toronto, Ontario through my Mom’s aunt who has already left Hungary to Canada. My parents left Canada prior to my birth, so I could be an American, this held high importance, as it meant I was given the opportunity to have a life better than they did and to be able to have a solid education. I don’t think in their wildest dreams they expected me to complete three college degrees and the course work towards the coveted doctorate. The incomplete dissertation, well that’s a blog post for another time.
My parents were middle class blue-collar workers who hard for every possession in their home. It wasn’t until my adult years my Mom shared with me their struggles. They both proudly assimilated into the culture, customs and language of their new homelands. Not only did they have to learn English, but had to start a new life with nothing and still work long, hard hours to make a humble home. Unlike most youth today, I never knew what I didn’t have as much as knew all the great things I had. I may not have had the latest fashions nor the largest Star Wars or LEGO or even the latest video game collections, but I was not lacking in my childhood. I find it unspeakable how many youth today are aware of their family’s financial situation and are still begging to have the latest and greatest of clothes, toys, electronics and anything else the wishing for the same, if not better possessions of their best friend. My fondest childhood possession was not the materialistic items but the memories my parents created for me.
I remember spending my summers on the Severn River, in Muskoka, Ontario as if it were yesterday. We packed the car and headed north the first Friday after school was out for the summer and to only return home just before school started up in the fall on the Tuesday after Labor Day. My Mom and I stayed up the entire summer at the cottage. Dad made the lonely 7 hour plus drive every Friday night after work to spend the weekends with his beloved family and friends and his cherished cottage. He continued this migration until we moved to south Florida in 1982, the beginning of Grade 7. Once we moved to south Florida, my parents took the even longer drive from south Florida for a week, maybe two if they were lucky to spend at the cottage.
Once my Dad retired, they stayed the better half of three months or more. The exception when he battled cancer and recovered from a series of strokes. The reality of me owning it became very real when I saw it becoming increasingly difficult for my parents to maintain it and watching all what they enjoyed most, begin to slowly fade away. As much as I loved our cottage, the thoughts of keeping it up both financially and maintenance was not worth the amount of time I would actually be able to enjoy it. I was afraid my cherished memories would become only my memories of worry and burden if we didn’t as a family decided to sell our cottage. Our cottage sold to a younger family in the spring of 2013. I don’t think my Dad ever forgave my Mom and I for him not being able to hold on to it for his last days.
I stared aimlessly out at the ocean on Dad’s birthday this past July, reminiscing countless memories of my many Muskoka summers. My senses fill with bittersweet happiness, as pressing pause to capture one moment in time will forever preserve the memory. The cottage now belongs to another family building their own summer of traditions and memories. I hope their only regret is not having spent enough time to enjoy the morning peace of seeing the river, glisten like a freshly cleaned mirror or the echo of family and friends visiting and building the foundation of their life’s new memories.
Winters at our cottage,
Long hikes in from Lantern Marina to our cottage,
Trips to the outhouse in dreadful cold winters,
The snowmobile rides, fearing the ice would crack in the middle of the river,
The tobogganing and snow sledding,
Building snow forts and tunnels,
Did I mention how much I hate being cold and wet?
Summers at our cottage,
Swimming and jumping off the dock,
Boating trips to, Torpitt Lodge to get laundry done and fill our water kegs,
And getting ice cream at Stanton House or Lantern Marina,
Playing with my summer friends I knew since I was born after a long winter,
Fishing off the dock, hoping to catch enough.
Did I mention how much I loved my summers?
Trips into Gravenhurst to do our weekly grocery shopping,
Visiting my parents’ friends, some who liked children more than others,
The trips to Canada’s Wonderland and the Canadian National Exhibition,
The day trip to Toronto to visit family and friends who didn’t have a cottage,
I reminisced how the cottages on the Severn River slowly fill with people escaping the city's chaos for the upcoming weekend, the silence of the week awakens. Like an extended family, Hungarian neighbors with a splash of Canadians begin to fill our small cottage with constant chatter and loud laughter. With plentiful music, various food and flowing drinks and lifelong friends this American's childhood is filled with nostalgic memories. Some stayed inside the cottage while others gathered on the porch and some drifted between both, enjoying friendships forged decades earlier, while others retreated to the dock for a midnight swim. Countless friends have come through the warm, welcoming doors over the years where my parents always offered a place to stop by for a drink, a chat and a bite to eat and celebrate life's gift of living in the present.
My mind wanders back to the present, I continue to stare out to the ocean and its early morning calmness. As an adult, I miss Dad’s excitement he felt every spring, when it was time to get ready to head to the cottage. It’s even more nostalgic than I thought, when I see posts on social media of cottages opening for another summer in Muskoka. I miss the carefree summers on the dock or porch at the cottage, just enjoying the whispering winds and casual conversations. I regret I didn’t get to enjoy them with him as I grew older but my career seemed to hinder the number of days I was able to get away.
I often wonder if he remembered the time I phoned from the porch telling you how I wish I could celebrate his birthday with him. The surprised look on his face was priceless when I walked up to him while he was still talking to me on the phone as if I was home in Florida. How about the time we went fishing and the fish were almost jumping into our boats and had the best freshwater fish dinner? I miss walking the Gravenhurst farmer's market with Mom and tasting farm fresh fruits and vegetables I never saw in a grocery store. I remember Mom and her friend. even bought fresh chicken waiting to be cleaned ... I really mean cleaned! I remember dragging the groceries with Mom, from the boat up to the cottage - this was tiring but had to be done. After the third trip - I was ready for a jump into the water to cool off.
How about the impromptu guests who showed up? It didn't matter there was always enough food and drink and place to sleep for the night.
The memories are countless…
For many of today’s youth, the most important to them is what new electronic gadget can they talk their family to buy them for their birthday or how to binge watch their favorite streamed shows on the television. Much is lost in the simple joys of a good book to read outside with winds whispering in the summer’s silence, going for a walk with your friends with the only rule is to be home for dinner or just spending time with loved ones and making memories of a lifetime.
When many begin to say, “I just can’t wait back to get back to normal.”, this introvert looks at the moment in time where God called a time out and gave us a chance to ponder our misbehavior. I began to value what I took for granted and know I don’t want everything returning back to the way they were. I acknowledge taking this off social media and give full credit to Carla Rodrigues for her words and gave my spin, nevertheless; it remains apropos for my next prayer.
· when a friend grabs me and pulls me in for a hug, I actually take the time to appreciate the gift of their embrace.
· when school resumes and you are dropping your kids off, you take the time to thank the staff for the amazing gift that they give to your family.
· when I sit in a crowded restaurant I take the time to look around at the smiling faces, loud voices and thank God for the gift of community.
· when I see a person or situation that needs prayer, I hope I pray as passionately and fervently as I have these past few weeks.
· when I take a moment to thank God that He provides us with the necessities of life and the amazing people who work so hard to keep us supplied and taken care of.
· when I never take for granted the ability to hop in the car and visit a friend, go to the mall, take my kids to a movie, etc.
I only hope we all remember this was quality time we got to spend with loved ones, took time to appreciate and not always rush and maybe found something new to pass time. Mine all began with me quilting my summers by a patchwork of memories. I pray we take the lessons and challenges over the past few weeks to create a new normal and leave behind the one tragically filled with seeing who has the most, the newest and the best.
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