The other day I went up to the camp. I hadn’t been there since September.

The snow made it look so different. I know it was because the lake is frozen and the ground is covered in snow, but it didn’t seem inviting. It was quiet and lonely. The name of the lake suited it well.

The walk down the hill seemed longer than usual. When we got down to the “house” I didn’t want to be the first to go in. It was like a time capsule. Everything was as we left it at the end of the summer…right up to the half drank can of Coors Light on the ledge of the ceiling Eddie had ripped out.

The camp was full of family memories and reminders of summers to come. Sleeping bags packed up, floats and boat stuff stacked and construction plans on the counter. It was hard to see.

We looked at what had to be done to get to where I eventually want it…made our list and hiked back up. That was enough for the first time back. It stung. I should have expected it, but didn’t. It was one more “first” in my book.

I know when the snow and lake thaw and the days are warmer, I’ll be back again… with the boys, family and friends. There will be new memories to make and different things to smile and laugh about.

They may not be the summers at the camp I had planned, but it doesn’t mean they won’t still be amazing.