R is for River

When I was in the seventh grade I became fast friends with a girl named Cindy. She and I were the same age at the same church, and so were our older sisters. My sister Rachel is best friends to this day with Sondra, though Cindy and I lost touch.

I remember Cindy and Sondra's sheep farm. They taught me how to shear a sheep, trying to convince me that despite the looks on those poor sheep faces, they really loved losing all that wool in the summer. Cindy taught me that living on a farm means getting up at 5:30 to gather eggs. I learned that hens who don't like to give up their eggs can be as loud, mean, and nasty as any other mother when you tangle with her babies. Cindy was also a gifted musician; to hear her play the piano in the living room was akin to sitting in Carnegie Hall with front-row seats.

But what I remember best were the times I spent with Cindy and her family on the river. Her grandparents owned a simple little two-bedroom, 1950s cabin on Broad Creek (which is a tributary of the Susquehanna River). Many hot, Sunday summer afternoons they invited Rachel and me to "go to the river" with them after church. Their mom "Miss Jeanne" and dad "Mr. Jerry" fed us lunch before leaving home, then we all loaded up the truck, drove to the river, and carried our sleeping bags (for the overnighters), our mini coolers ,and other gear for about a mile through the woods, up steep hills, down ravines, crackling sticks underfoot and dodging branches ahead. It never seemed like a such a long hike because of the fun company.

The cabin sat at the top of a steep ravine. I'm talking maybe a 60 degree angle to the water. Climbing down the "steps" required skill, courage, and surefootedness which, of course, I had back then. I don't think I'd attempt it now, and understand why only the men accompanied us when it was time to swim or boat!

At the river they taught me how to dive, how to kayak, and almost how to water ski. Driving the speed boat was my absolute favorite activity! That, and swimming. We were outside until we could barely see to climb back up to the cabin. There, Miss Jeanne and the grandparents had prepared a big, hearty meal for the starving swimmers! And then we'd play board games or go to the bunks to talk and giggle till Mr. Jerry said "lights out." Sometimes we had to leave on Sunday before dusk in order to pack up the boat that took us to the landing where Mr. Jerry could easily access the truck. I remember few of the rides home because Cindy, Sondra ,Rachel, and I fell asleep in the bed of the truck before we reached the main road.

That summer I learned what it was to be part of a family who got together very often to make a lot of memories with extended family. I never knew what it was like to have my grandparents close by except for two years in Kansas. I think I missed out on a lifetime of learning from the older generation. There remains in my heart a deep yearning for more "grandparent time" that will never happen.

How thankful I am ,though, that God provided other people in my life who were willing and happy to sacrifice a great deal of time and energy to make sweet memories for me, much of which we made at "the river."