The Lake

Walking around 'the lake' today I was flooded with a million memories of days gone by. We have walked, ran, skipped, pedaled and slipped a million miles around that lake, footprints left by me and so many cherished friends and family members.

Bike rides that ended up in skinned knees and bruised elbows, meeting at the benches to discuss the days events, walking around and around planning weddings, planning lives, planning for nothing in particular. Exploring at the rocks, that we pretended were mountains, mucking around in our rubber boots, hunting for worms, dead fish and dead bodies after the lake flooded that one summer. Falling in love with a character from our new favorite novel so much so that we insisted on walking around the lake barefoot for the entire summer to harden our heels and toes just like she did in the book. This also led to an attempt at learning the art of astral projection, which didn't get us very far.

Sneaking out of our houses to meet at the lake just to smoke copious amounts of cigarettes and discuss matters of our young hearts, going for long walks, late at night and holding hands for the first time with my long time crush. Shying away from a first kiss on a first date, hearing the news that my best friend's mom has breast cancer, a mother that I considered my own, singing songs at the tops of our lungs just because we could and nobody was listening. Sitting at one of the decks hidden from the path, pretending we were lounging around at a lake far away but not daring to dip our bare toes in the water we knew to be unclean. Picking flowers, yanking on the lilac bushes, insisting we bring flowers home to our moms who carefully put them in vases and had to throw them out hours later because of all the tiny insects that lived in the blossoms.

Playing tag on the fountains, getting caught by our moms, who were also out around the lake, thinking that we were out studying for exams, but who couldn't be mad at us because they could see how much fun we were having. Bundling up in the cold winters to get on our skates, and glide around the figure eight, watch the boys play hockey, wobble around until we found our balance, excited for the hot chocolate and warm socks that awaited us at home. How much fun we had.

That lake is a part of my history. If I ever write a book, a memoir, The Lake will have its own chapter.