Its Gonna' Be Alright

  Saturday September 18th, 2021

 

 

We woke to a beautiful crisp cloudless autumn morning.  We were glad for the warming sun as a difficult day lay ahead of us.  We were heading north from Grand Rapids to Paul and Kim's family cabin.  We were to retrieve their boat and other belongings from the lakeside cabin in the woods.  And to spread Paul's ashes at one of the places he cherished.  Each of us in our own way checked our emotions and anxiety on the drive to the lake.  It was a pretty drive with the leaves beginning their change to their autumnal glory.

 

 

A right turn off the road and onto their shared drive.  A two tire rut path through the woods.  Before us, the gate to their private road.  Countless times I witnessed Paul's father, then later, Paul open the gate.  It's now Kim's turn to open the gate for us.  Their road seemed different yet familiar.  Changes over time are inevitable.  The large stand of birch embracing the road was logged off years ago.  A new grove of young birch and brush now crowd the road.  One day, they too will grow to majestically embrace the road.  We continued downhill with a sharp left and past the beaver pond that habitually flooded their road.  This day the road was dry as though the beavers stopped their pond work out of respect.

 

 

 

 

The familiar brown and white cabin stood before us. Paint was a bit weathered, the trees grew up, the lake view hindered.  Yet the mature trees now compliment the cabin in the woods. It was rather emotional for me standing before the cabin realizing this would be my last visit.  In 1979, my dear friend Paul invited me to his family's cabin for the first time.  And now I stand in that very spot once again, forty-two years later.  Over the years I would spend at least one weekend a summer with Paul and his parents Cathy and Ken and a lifetime of memories.  Entering the cabin was like a step back in time with that familiar cabin smell.  It was similar yet different.  The layout was the same, but with new furnishings, new carpet, a new picture window overlooking the lake.  New improvements.  The wicker chair I always sat in during the evening's conversing with Paul, Cathy Ken was replaced by a more inviting sofa.  Good changes.

 

 

 

Julie spent time helping Kim sort through their personal belongings inside.  Deciding what to take home and what to leave behind.  Rick and I spent our time in the Morton garage sorting through how to get Paul's boat out and attached to the car.  We came up with numerous workable solutions when it struck us.  We were struck as though Paul was there stating the obvious, we were over thinking things.  That's the way it was, the three of us razing each other over simple things.  It was quite fitting. 

We took a lunch break after we finished loading the car, boat and trailer in anticipation of leaving.  We dined on SuperOne sandwiches, a good decision made by Julie.  A Bald Eagle soared high above the cabin heading east.  A Red Squirrel chattered.  A butterfly floated around us as we ate.  This little butterfly made it's way into the cabin's open door, fluttering around as if it too wanted one last look inside the cabin.  It rested outside on the window, perhaps to enjoy in our company.  Sometimes God or a Higher Power gives us these little things to comfort us.

It was a beautiful cloudless day as we walked out onto the dock amongst the lily pads. Kim brought Paul with her.  We carried green and red solo cups, along with a bottle of champagne and Jameson Irish Whisky.  One last party with Paul.  Though as usual there was confusion as which cup was for the drinks and which cup was to spread ashes.  No doubt Paul was behind this.  Paul always thrived on a good prank.  We had a good laugh over our confusion.  Rick popped the champagne bottle with a resounding "pop".  The cork jettisoned out over the lake lading on the deep end of the lily pads.  Champagne sprayed out into the lake, and on us as Rick shook the bottle.  The four of us, Kim, Julie, Rick and I enjoyed a last toast to Cathy.  I'd like to think that champagne cork will float in front of the cabin forever in Cathy's honor.

 A final toast to Paul.  I opened a new bottle of Jameson pouring into five green cups, green being Paul's favorite color.  We lifted to toast and poured out one cup for Paul.  Afterward, we enjoyed the whisky in his honor.  It was a pretty day.  After some emotional tears we each filled a red solo cup with Paul's ashes.  The wind started picking up from the south, blowing straight into us. No doubt Paul was at it again with his pranks; as the south wind would push his ashes into our faces.  One by one, we sent Paul to the wind over Gunn Lake.  One of the places he most cherished. 

Just the four of us, Kim, Julie, Rick and I, set out on this emotional adventure.  We may have feared  the unknown with great anticipation. However, everything fell into place.  As though a Higher Power watched over us and lent a hand to ease the day and paint the day with a pretty brush.  On the dock we wept.  We sat in silence.  The wind settled down.  It was such a pretty day.  The four of us sat in silence.  Each of us in our own thoughts, reflecting on memories and what we have lost.  We said goodbye to a husband, a cousin, a dear friend.  We said goodbye to a mother, an aunt, a friend's mother.  We said goodbye to the family cabin by closing and locking the gate one last time.  I believe we did right by Paul and Kim.  We now look forward.  A new beginning, A new adventure.

 

Every little thing gonna' be alright.