Washing Away

She knew this would be the last time she’d ever be allowed back here. The ‘for sale’ sign had been taken down, the paper work was being signed somewhere by the lawyers. This was it. It was official. So many memories in this cabin, an entire childhood really. Now, even though this place was staying in the family, she knew the doors would never be opened up again to the family at large.

Her cousins, who pretended to love having the whole family over, really only liked to stick to themselves. Conjuring up exclusive evenings full of whispered gossip and fabulous food. They preferred those quite, elevated gatherings for some reason. The loud, warm, expansive gatherings the rest of the family preferred were somehow beneath them.

Clara walked around taking in all the sights and smells, running her fingers over the wood on the walls. A deep sadness ached in her chest.

She missed her grandmother. She knew that in her prime her grandmother would have never let this happen. This place had been a refuge and a hub for everyone in the family. Now, with her gone, it would become something else. Her grandmother would only existed in the past, in their memories. Soon this cabin would belong there as well, along with all the summers she’d once spent here. It felt like a rug had been pulled out from under her. Suddenly home had taken on a new meaning and she wasn’t sure she was quite ready for the change.

She took one last deep breath, trying to commit the smell of the old rooms and the fireplace to memory. She snapped a few more pictures with her phone, then walked out onto the deck, looking out over the water.

The wind blew up over the lake as the sun sank below the tree line on the opposite shore. Clara took in another deep breath. It smelled like sweat peas, water, and pine trees. She loved it here. She loved the smells. She loved the trees. She even loved the grass and the water. She loved the old cabin and all of its memories.

She held back a sob, knowing her cousins planned to practically tear it down in order to ‘modernize’ it.

On the horizon, across the vast lake, she could see a ship, moving along through the waves on the horizon towards the setting sun. ‘Ship’ might be a bit of a grand term for it. A two story ferry, puttering away every evening for as long as she could remember. The Kawartha Spirit chugged its way across the waves, giving visitors a tour of the lake. Clara was pretty sure it was a cash bar situation, but she’d never been on it, only mooned it a couple times. She snorted at the memory.

She wondered when she’d next be out on the water, any water. She was happier then she could ever remember being outside of her early childhood, but there was no water where she was going.

Small rivers, a few ponds, but nothing compared to the connected lakes and wide expanses of the Kawarthas and the Great Lakes. There was magic here. Deep magic she was sure existed nowhere else. The kind of magic you can only get when generations live and die in the same place. She could feel it here, like nowhere else, but she knew it was starting to fracture. It wouldn’t be like this for much longer.

She stood a moment, considering the passage of time, then turned away and started walking back up the hill.

She heard the gentle splashing of a boat, passing in front of the cabin, but she didn’t turn around. She loved that sound, but she could probably live without it for a while. She made her way up the hill and to the car where her husband sat listening to the radio.

When she got in he turned it down and gave her a warm smile.

“Need a hug?” He said, leaning in.

She couldn’t hold it in any longer. She wept, deeply. Morning the passing of her childhood, her grandmother, and everything she was leaving behind.

“Feel better?” Grahm said, rubbing her back. Clara giggled, “A little, I’m just going to miss it, that’s all.”

“I know, but we can come back and visit I’m sure, it’s not like we don’t know the new owners,” Clara grimaced into his shoulder but didn’t say anything.

“Let’s go,” she said, sitting back in the passengers seat, wiping at her tears.

Grahm started backing out of the driveway.

“Still want to get some ice cream from that place?” He asked, narrowly avoiding the fence as he backed out onto the dirt road.

Clara perked up a bit, sitting a little higher in her seat.

“Yea! Take a right at the end of the road, I’ll tell you where it it.”

“You got it boss!” Said Grahm, turning the car around and driving up the little hill and into the trees.

Clara didn’t take her eyes off the cabin until the trees got too dense, hiding it from view.

Her heart sank and she started to cry again. Quite tears, slowly falling down her face.

They sat silently in the car, the music playing softly. Clara gave clipped, defeated directions, getting them back to the main highway.

They passed farms and fields. Clara tried to take it all in, knowing she wouldn’t see any of it ever again. Then she saw the red barn and glared at it confused.

“Do you know where you’re going?” She asked Grahm, who had been driving confidently since turning onto the main road.

“No, the last thing you said was ‘now head into town’,”

Clara huffed,

“Turn it around, we should have taken the left two roads back,” Clara said “Sorry, I was distracted by my uncontrollable weeping,” she chuckled a bit at herself and how ridiculous she was being.

Grahm laughed too, heading back the way they came. “Don’t be sorry, you’ve gotta feel the way you feel,” he grinned, “ Besides, if you weren’t crying, I would be very worried,” he said, chuckling to himself as much as to her. Clara grinned, elbowing him playfully. “Just drive! And turn left at those cows or we’ll be trapped here forever,” Grahm obliged, following her direction once more. They passed a sign that said they’d be in town in 10km and Grahm confidently said he could take it from there.

Clara looked back out the window, taking in the other side of the fields she’d never see again, considering which ice cream flavour she’d get.

As she watch the country slide by her, she felt the magic slipping away, being replaced by something else. Something lighter, something new. The dense fog that seemed to surround her at all times lifted.

She would be sad moving on from this, she would be sad to not see her grandmother again. A big part of her, however, was relieved to finally be moving on.