As Kirk and I sit in the cabin for the last night listening to the sound of the crashing waves, we are reluctant to think about going home in the morning. It is so hard leaving a peaceful place to come home and face the huge mountain in front of you. For the first few days, my entourage included my mom and nephew Roman. The Hawkins and Loewen girls spent many summer weeks here as kids and it was time for Roman to start the tradition. When I was on the beach with Roman, I felt like a little girl again splashing in the water, chasing seagulls, crawling on all fours, and getting sand stuck in every nook and cranny of my body. Some days, I even had more sand on me than Roman did. For my mother and I, this cabin holds a particularly special place in our hearts. She once said, “Coming here is like getting a hug from an old friend.” Every minute that we create memories here will last a lifetime in our hearts.
“Please Lord give me the means to buy my mother a place to retreat by the sea.”
Thank you Jim and Elona for opening up your special cabin by the sea to us! My heart and mind were at peace and I felt God’s calming presence with me.
A funny story:
One afternoon when we were returning from the beach, sand-logged in all the wrong places, Roman and I decided to take a shower to get squeaky clean. Now, taking a shower at the cabin is a little more difficult than at other cabins because there it is a “shower shed.” Don’t get me wrong, I have been showering in the “shower shed” for 24 years and it does hold a certain nostalgic value that is unforgettable. Roman on the other hand has decided to hate it. As soon as I turned on the water, little Ro-Ro started screaming bloody murder. At this point, we are both in the shower that is barely big enough to turn around in and I am holding a slippery baby who is clawing at my neck and grasping for the shower curtain. When I was done cleaning up Roman, I figured I would hand him to off to my mother who I thought was right outside because I was sure his screams could be heard for miles. As it turns out, my mother had mosied on down to the beach to look for her missing glasses. So here I am yelling for help, trying to be louder than my nephew, struggling to put a towel on, and all the while Roman is sliding down my arms and trying to get away from the scary “shower shed.” After a minute of yelling for Mom’s help with no reply, I cautiously ventured out of the “shower shed” into the great outdoors clothed only with a towel that was inching lower and lower with each step, showing my bald head in all of its glory, and holding a naked screaming baby. For an innocent bystander, a more gruesome and scary sight I cannot imagine. Needless to say, we bathed Roman in the sink from that point on.
(click on image below to enlarge)