The last day of a big trip is usually a downer of sorts. I always seem to find myself “waiting” to go. It’s a little like Sunday afternoons - the fun and adventure is over and now the hard work looms before you. That’s how my day started on June 30, our last day of vacation. On July 1, I would began the previously mentioned long and exhausting day of air travel with small children. But I was itching, itching to get started. Yet sometimes, it’s at these moments that the most remarkable things happen.
I wanted to take the boys out to the shores Lake Superior. No trip to my hometown is really complete without seeing the vistas of the big lake. It’s an incredible place, and I have many fond memories of it from my youth. We’d postponed a trip several times during the previous week, and this was our last chance.
There are three access points there - S Harbor(the boating place), LG Point (the rock collecting place) and BR Harbor (the pretty place). Each is a little different, having a charm all its own. I really wanted Bump to see the boats, yet they might like rock picking at the Point or the big beautiful bridge at BRH. I hemmed and hawed, finally deciding S Harbor, simply because it was the closest as well.
I had some ghosts at S Harbor. A boy, the boy’s family, a fishing boat, fun times. The End. My fault. Mean Shelly. A weight I’ve carried these many years.
I knew the family still fished there. I knew the name of the boat. While we didn’t really try to find them. The words, “Mommy, I have to go to the bathroom,” sent us their way. As we pulled up to the restroom, in front of the car was “the boat” and the captain (the father of my former boyfriend).
And in a moment, I took a chance.
The weight I had been carrying around was lifted that day, in many ways. I wrote earlier that you can’t go home again. But I did. I went back to that time and reclaimed the good things from it. I learned a lot about grace, love and forgiveness.
And my last day was in many ways the most amazing day of my trip.
