#22 of 31 Slice of Life Cabin Memories

Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for hosting the Slice of Life Challenge.

I've been meandering down memory lane.  You see, my husband and I rented a cabin along a lake in southeastern Ohio this weekend.  We're celebrating our 29th anniversary.  As we opened the door and stepped in, I was immediately transported back to my childhood and young adult years, when going to my grandparents' cabin meant fun with the cousins, special time with my grandparents, and a special hideaway when I was older.  This two cabins look nothing alike, but they both have that "cabiny" smell.  And that's what takes me back.

My early morning view today.

Early mornings at the cabin were special.  I'd be lured awake by the sound and aroma of coffee percolating.  That ping-pop-blurp told me that Grandma and Pop were awake.  I'd slip out of my sleeping bag, carefully crawl over a myriad of cousins who were sleeping in the loft with me, and quietly make my way down the ladder to the main floor.  If I was lucky, I'd get a few minutes of having my grandparents all to myself.  

I knew exactly where to find them.  They'd be sitting on the swing that overlooked the Grand River. Their hands would be intertwined as they sat in peaceful silence.  Steam drifted from their coffee cups ~ Pop's mug always the yellow one.  Powdered sugar doughnuts sat patiently on the picnic table, waiting to be devoured by  any one of the grandchildren sleeping inside.  Crows cawed, woodpeckers rat-a-tat-tatted, and songbirds tweeted overhead.  The swing, anchored to two huge trees, creaked back and forth, back and forth, as Grandma and Pop gently pushed it with their feet. As the sun climbed from the horizon, its light peeked through the canopy above, casting a soft glow over  two people I  loved more than anything in the world.

Seeing no one else out there with them, I'd tiptoe over to the picnic table, grab a doughnut, and climb in between them.  I'd snuggle into Grandma's soft, billowy embrace.  She'd be wearing one of her bright flowered housecoats, while Pop would be dressed in his black pants, white short-sleeved shirt with a pen already in the pocket protector.  Me, I was in my glory.  White powder covered my fingers and clung to my lips as I joined the morning ritual on the swing.  

Creaking swing

Steaming coffee

Chirping birds

Flowing river

Powdered sugar doughnuts

Embraced in love

My grandparents' cabin as it looks today.  It's no longer in our family.