In July, we spent a week at our family camp in Ontario, a peaceful refuge on the northern shore of Lake Superior. When we unlock the front door to the musty old cabin and step inside, it’s like entering a time capsule. Everything is the same: the faded magazines, dented pots and pans, the creaky floors. Even the sound of mice who scurry along the floors at night. The old cabin has safely and gently sheltered our family for over eighty years.
The beach and river remain pristine and mostly free of noise and hectic activity. Our pace slows. We enjoy bonfires and star gazing. We relax and try to be agenda-free.
I prepare for my time there throughout the year. I buy extra canned goods, I purchase additional soaps and towels. And every library visit I pilfer the “free magazine box” and start a bag to read and leave at the cabin, and I always bring a stack of books: usually titles I’ve picked up at the library book sale. I also peruse books at the resale shop where I found several interesting titles including “The Happiness Project” by Gretchen Rubin.
Now I consider myself a happy person. I can find something positive in most situations, and I do look forward to each new day. But it’s difficult for this retired English teacher to pass up books, and because I had heard of this title, I purchased it and hauled it to the cabin.
It was a good read, filled with anecdotes from Rubin’s current life. She discussed careers, marriage, and raising a family. A phrase she used at the end of a chapter on parenthood gave me pause: “The days are long, but the years are short.”
I sure could relate to that!
Aren’t there times in everyone’s life that seem like they will last forever? Rocking a newborn baby? Coffee with parents? Holidays with extended family?
I had an amazing “lunch bunch” during my teaching years. We strove to always stay positive and packed so much fun, conversation, and good food in our 25 minutes together each day. I loved these folks. Still do. And when we shared those lunches, it felt like we would always be together.
And then two took different jobs in the county. Two eventually had a different lunch schedule. One retired. And so on. Those hours and days were long. But the years together were short and eventually ended.
Rubin’s message suggests the importance of engaging and being intentional in our interactions.
That each stage of life doesn’t last long: raising children, navigating careers, caring for aging parents, even tending a garden.
Before we know it, those years are gone.
A great reminder to all of us as we savor the end of summer, enjoy fresh produce, listen to the night sounds.
To seek activities and conversations with those we love.
These days are long, but the years are short.
It’s a Fine Life.
