my weekend. no, it's more than just "my weekend".
i'm not ready to let go yet.
i spent the weekend at the lake with my extended family. i slept on a cot in the living room next to the fire, my father in the pullout couch in the middle of the room. the boys were in the laundry area next to us. i woke up early every morning & lay in bed watching the sun grow across the lake & in through the small window directly across the room from me, listening to people & the dogs making sleep sounds around me. i ate pop tarts & chocolate milk for breakfast, sitting at the table that looked out through the porch & across the lake. there was a sense of urgent laziness, dressing the kids in day clothes & then layering outside clothes on top, to send them out into the bright sunshine, the day freezing cold & unnaturally clear. i walked out on to the lake with one of my younger cousins, the little dog running circles around us on the squeaky fresh snow. i lay down on the frozen, snow-covered lake, maybe 30 feet from shore, & stared up into the expansive blue sky. the clouds floated around & into each other, wispy & thick at the same time. sounds whipped across the top of the lake, meeting my ears with a vengenance. when i got nervous about a snowmobile flying across the lake & not seeing me, i stood up & walked into shore, meeting up with the boys for a snowmobile ride. i pulled on a tight snowmobile helmet, muffling the noises around me, & fastened in my head & emotions. next to me, their snowmobiles roared to life, mine following with a gentle turn of the key. i squeezed hard on the throttle, feeling the need for more than just speed. i wasn't sure what, but as i whipped across the smooth lake, the boys catching up to me, matching my speed, & eventually pulling ahead, i didn't care. i pushed 45mph & pulled ahead of them, casting a devilish smile over my shoulder. we pulled off the lake & took on the mountains, whipping up & down hills, curving around sharp corners, eating up straight stretchs, trees blowing by. we slowed only to allow other snowmobilers to pass us, only to accelerate like life was dependent on it; to make up for precious lost seconds. i didn't have to think. i smiled as cold air whipped across my face, as i stood up to cruise a hill & navigate a corner, i could smile & not ask why. [drain the pressure from the swelling, the sensation's overwhelming, give me another kiss goodnight, & everything will be alright.] we headed back across the lake towards camp, exeding our personal speed limits, racing towards who knows what. i took the younger kids out for their turns driving. they each had no knowledge of "speed", cranking on the throttle, sending us jerking forward only to let off suddenly, making me laugh inside my helmet. some of them were content only with me driving. i imagined how they must feel: me, this "big girl", their cousin, their life in my hands. sometimes i would come up on one of my older cousins with a younger one in front, & we'd drive side by side for a bit, the two little kids laughing & waving to each other from where they were on their snowmobiles, their cheeks squished, looking out from inside their huge helmets. when i was sick of having a little kid driving, or sick of my helmet banging continuously on whose ever's was in front of me, i would take them back to camp & then speed away, leaving frustrations to the wind. the mountains looked amazing against the blue sky, & i could have driven that lake forever. there is something about the adirondacks that gives me a sense of comfort. it's like looking out across many miles to a mountain i have climbed before, one that looks like the size of my thumb nail from where i stand at that moment, but one that i have once stood on top of before, surveying all the land before me, all the green of trees & blue of lakes. seeing that same mountain from many different places, like driving by it on my way home, makes me feel close, it draws me to a center. i will go to many lengths to feel that comfort; that comfort that pushes me off, gives me a little kick in the ass, gets me back on my feet again. damn, if those mountains don't straighten me out, i don't know what does.
i spent the weekend at the lake with my extended family. i slept on a cot in the living room next to the fire, my father in the pullout couch in the middle of the room. the boys were in the laundry area next to us. i woke up early every morning & lay in bed watching the sun grow across the lake & in through the small window directly across the room from me, listening to people & the dogs making sleep sounds around me. i ate pop tarts & chocolate milk for breakfast, sitting at the table that looked out through the porch & across the lake. there was a sense of urgent laziness, dressing the kids in day clothes & then layering outside clothes on top, to send them out into the bright sunshine, the day freezing cold & unnaturally clear. i walked out on to the lake with one of my younger cousins, the little dog running circles around us on the squeaky fresh snow. i lay down on the frozen, snow-covered lake, maybe 30 feet from shore, & stared up into the expansive blue sky. the clouds floated around & into each other, wispy & thick at the same time. sounds whipped across the top of the lake, meeting my ears with a vengenance. when i got nervous about a snowmobile flying across the lake & not seeing me, i stood up & walked into shore, meeting up with the boys for a snowmobile ride. i pulled on a tight snowmobile helmet, muffling the noises around me, & fastened in my head & emotions. next to me, their snowmobiles roared to life, mine following with a gentle turn of the key. i squeezed hard on the throttle, feeling the need for more than just speed. i wasn't sure what, but as i whipped across the smooth lake, the boys catching up to me, matching my speed, & eventually pulling ahead, i didn't care. i pushed 45mph & pulled ahead of them, casting a devilish smile over my shoulder. we pulled off the lake & took on the mountains, whipping up & down hills, curving around sharp corners, eating up straight stretchs, trees blowing by. we slowed only to allow other snowmobilers to pass us, only to accelerate like life was dependent on it; to make up for precious lost seconds. i didn't have to think. i smiled as cold air whipped across my face, as i stood up to cruise a hill & navigate a corner, i could smile & not ask why. [drain the pressure from the swelling, the sensation's overwhelming, give me another kiss goodnight, & everything will be alright.] we headed back across the lake towards camp, exeding our personal speed limits, racing towards who knows what. i took the younger kids out for their turns driving. they each had no knowledge of "speed", cranking on the throttle, sending us jerking forward only to let off suddenly, making me laugh inside my helmet. some of them were content only with me driving. i imagined how they must feel: me, this "big girl", their cousin, their life in my hands. sometimes i would come up on one of my older cousins with a younger one in front, & we'd drive side by side for a bit, the two little kids laughing & waving to each other from where they were on their snowmobiles, their cheeks squished, looking out from inside their huge helmets. when i was sick of having a little kid driving, or sick of my helmet banging continuously on whose ever's was in front of me, i would take them back to camp & then speed away, leaving frustrations to the wind. the mountains looked amazing against the blue sky, & i could have driven that lake forever. there is something about the adirondacks that gives me a sense of comfort. it's like looking out across many miles to a mountain i have climbed before, one that looks like the size of my thumb nail from where i stand at that moment, but one that i have once stood on top of before, surveying all the land before me, all the green of trees & blue of lakes. seeing that same mountain from many different places, like driving by it on my way home, makes me feel close, it draws me to a center. i will go to many lengths to feel that comfort; that comfort that pushes me off, gives me a little kick in the ass, gets me back on my feet again. damn, if those mountains don't straighten me out, i don't know what does.