| Paul and Mom July 1992 |
Our cabin near Leakey, Texas rests within a remote area where the hills cup around, making cellphones unusable once we turn off of FM 337 onto Rim Rock Road. My parents purchased the land over thirty years ago, long before cell phones existed, when they were about the same age as we are now. I remember lecturing them to wait until we arrived before they unloaded the supplies from one of the many projects we tackled together during those first years. Without fail, they ignored my warnings. We’d pull up to find they’d maneuvered plywood out of the truck bed on their own. Dad often quipped that they weren’t invalids!
| Mom and Dad July 1992 |
| David and Dad July 1992 |
| Finished porch-July 1992 |
After Dad died,
spending a weekend at the cabin tumbled all of us into grief. We attempted a
few trips with Mom, but she cried each time. Once she said, “I see the ghosts
of who we were walking outside.” By that time, Huntington’s disease had her
wheelchair bound. She’d last a few hours, and then ask for us to bring her
home. Once Mom died, we made a few trips up alone where we made a few necessary
repairs, cut down a few ever-intrusive cedars, and down-shifted our visit to
nights of board games or stargazing. About six years ago, our Escape Hybrid
needed extensive and expensive repairs. Because of its age and mileage, we
found ourselves purchasing a car that couldn’t handle the rough Rim Rock Road
terrain. David’s parents and siblings assured us that we could exchange our car
with either their SUV or truck whenever we wanted to make a trip; but in the
usual manipulative dance of narcissists, their offer proved shallow.
For three years, the
cabin remained untouched. Last May, David’s cousin and her husband took us up
for a weekend. Someone had broken into the place and tossed things around searching
for valuables that didn’t exist. This same cousin took me back last November
for another quick visual check. Each short view left me determined to get a new
SUV, which we did at the end of December.
This weekend we carefully
examined some areas of wood rot in the screened porch area. We tossed around
ideas of making the repairs ourselves, but I know that’s unrealistic. We
debated over the possibility of taking the area down and just having a huge
deck. We discussed finding a local company to hire to do the repairs. At the
moment, the damaged area doesn’t hold the danger of falling in on us. We have
time to decide the best course. In the back of my mind, I hear my own voice
warning my parents, “Wait until we get there. Don’t do anything stupid!”
| Our hidden driveway January 29, 2022 |
That past caution
reminded us to limit our visit to one major task. David focused on cutting the
knee-high grass that covered the driveway and cleared some cedar. I relined the
driveway with rocks.
Both of us used the sunshine
and hard labor to step back and away from work and world. We hit “reset” to return
home recharged and ready.
Copyright 2022 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman
No comments:
Post a Comment