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adirondack dawn

adirondack dawn

by Andrea | July, 2013

Early mornings in the Adirondacks are like nothing else. Every morning is different, yet consistently offering an orchestra of birds, dominated by ravens—not always so sweet sounding, but nonetheless a part of the orchestra. As the sky lightens and the birds fade into the background, the wind picks up, sifting through the sky-scraping poplar and pine trees, delivering a sound so soothing to the soul, like an ancient call from a timeless past. 

The month has flown by. I barely know where the time has gone. My mother and I arrived here at Lake George 4 weeks ago, and we leave tomorrow. I feel sad. It seems we are just settling in. My hope of writing often about the experience of being here with my mother leaves me disappointed—as that didn't happen. So many other things took my time and attention. The house is big and needed lots of work to prepare for the renters. We haven’t rented the cottage for decades, but now with my mother in Assisted Living, the added income will help. For all the time, care and love that my mother has poured into this house, the house can now give back to her.  

I treasure early mornings here because it is a time where nothing can pull me away. No work, no responsibilities. My mother sleeps well in the morning here, probably soothed by the morning winds or fresh Adirondack air. When she wakes up she greets me with her infectious sweetness. Sometimes a little confused, she might need a bit of reorienting. She'll usually ask, "Is anyone coming today?" (No, it’s just you and me today.) Or, "Are Greg and Lisa and the kids coming today?" (No mom, they left last night.) Every morning is different. Family come and go, in what feels to be an eye blink. In my mother's world, events in time do not hold together very well. In the moment is where she mostly lives. 

It is a gift being here with my my mother. It's become like an annual retreat for us. I've done lots of meditation retreats in my life, and coming here to the lake is like meditation in many ways. There is a current here that awakens a deep silence within. When you feel into this, you just feel happy. I'm sure my mother feels this too. She is different now from when we first came a month ago. Leaving one world behind and stepping into another seemed to upset her bearings for a while, and she was more anxious and confused. It took a little time, but now she is so soft and sweet. She even looks more beautiful. I sometimes wonder if it is the effect of the lake, of sitting on her great porch most of the day, drawn into the beauty of the lake, the trees, and the ever changing sky. And then of course there are the many kind people who pass by, or stop in to visit. It is always touching to see how loved she is here, how appreciated she is for making it back year after year—and especially now that she is 95. 

Tomorrow will not be an easy day :(

Lake Georgewith her infectious sweetnesswith the morning paperwith Patwith Lynnwith methe cottage with its grand porch


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far more beautiful places where did the barrier go?

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