we had a nice time

November 20, 2013 § Leave a comment


I went back to the lake house this weekend. I keep thinking I won’t be able to get there again for weeks, and will never go back without the baby strapped into various seats and haphazardly swaddled. And wailing. But I keep going back  in a contemplative car with Christopher and Lupe, and having another quiet weekend. Maybe I’ll do it again this Friday.

Mom is home. She was gone for a long time, working in Europe. Often when she gets back from such long journeys , I have a primal, peevish need to push her away. I’ll be cool for a few hours, days even, until I feel we’ve found common ground again. There is something really scary about being away from your mother–even at 29 years old, I react. I don’t like it, but it’s a testament to how much it hurts to be separated. Especially as I wait for my own child to be born. I want so badly for Mom to be there, and not across the pond. There’s an invisible chord between us all now, baby, me, my mom. I want us attached.


So the visit was as much about thawing out with her as it was about my last (or second to last, or third to last…) infant-less trip to the lake house. Every time I go, it appears more beautiful, even as the leaves fall and the thin gray branches poke and point at the sky. This time, Christopher and I took a nap together on the big couch in the big white room with the big windows and when I woke up I had a thought that I have every year, but always seem to forget. I thought, “The wintry world is purple!” The colors around the lake are iterations of pale blue, pale violet and gray. Naked trees, especially lots of them in the distance, are always more colorful than I remember.

And we prepared: we made my favorite chicken dish, layered with mushrooms, marinara and béchamel and also an incredible curried squash soup, which I’ve put up. It’s so fun to put up food when there’s a reason behind the effort. I feel like a lady bear, gathering herself up for the long winter ahead. And yet, I keep on leaving the den, poking my nose around, smelling and smiling at the world before the big retreat.

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