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my happy place

I know this place too well.

A home sits into a hill with a sandy beach, trees guarding it, hiding it, cooling it. I know the roof. The roof that protected sleep, joy, and embraced all who sat within. I know the windows. Square drop windows held my gaze but are now blinding. I know the sunrise that would dance on water, waking up the loons. I know the deck we sat on, where the barbeque fed our tired but happy bodies.

I know this lake too well, the depths and the shallows. I know the islands and the bridges, the curves in the roads and treetops where Eagles have nested. I know how the boat sways on the lake and the hypnotic hum from the motor that calms a restless baby. Even the puffy clouds that form a pattern in the blue sky are familiar.

I’m reminded of how many times waves saved me when I thought I was drowning.

I know this ache too well. Yearnings to get it back, to hold it close, to curl up in the memories and never leave. I have to get under the roof again; I have to be there once again because if I can’t, then maybe it was all just a dream. Maybe this place never really existed or maybe it was another person living this life.

Everything is different but it’s also the same.

I know this feeling too well; my throat tightens and my heart swells because I’m afraid I’m too happy and I won’t know how to let it go. I love so much that I splash it away before I go under… aware it all eventually comes to an end. It’s here and then it’s gone. Too many tears. Grief knows me too well.

I know this place too well.

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