If Only . . .

When I was just 9 years old, my parents bought 2 lots in the beautiful mountains of Idaho, and started making plans to build a cabin.  We were all so excited, I can remember going to the lot and having a picnic where the cabin would be.  I remember watching my father take a tape measure and start to make his dream a reality . . . he was so happy!  He was one of those men who could do anything, all he needed was someone to show him one time, and he could do it . . . and improve it.  Before long, there were footings poured, floors nailed in place, walls raised, rocks collected to build the fireplace, and lots of work, work and more work!

If only I could go back to my childhood . . . just one more time!  If only I could watch my father working outside in his coveralls, sweat dripping off the tip of his nose.  If only I could listen to my mother humming her favorite, Andy Williams song, while she was busy making bread and getting ready for all the company that we always had at the cabin.  If only I could ride my bicycle down that bumpy dirt road to the river, just one more time.  If only I could wake up in the morning to the sound of wind blowing through pines trees, while squirrels chattered and chainsaws worked tirelessly cutting wood.  If only I could drive up the lane to the cabin, roll down the window and smell the pine trees and Lupine!  If only I could make mud pies, or sawdust pies just one more times with my little sister!

At the cabin, we were surrounded by family!  Almost every cabin in our area was a relative, and if they weren't related, they felt like they were.   If only I could listen to those familiar voices . . . just one more time!!
 
I think all of us have those. . . what if moments . . .but time marches on, and we need to live in the future and treasure the past.  On Saturday, I had all of those, "what if . . " moments, and more, as my sister and I cleaned out the garage to prepare the cabin to be sold. This is the song that kept going through my mind as we cleaned.

We are now in the process of selling the cabin . . . I don't think I can even tell you how heartbreaking this decision has been.  This is a place that we all love, a place that so many memories, good and bad, were made, where milestones were met and lives where changed.  My hope is that whoever buys my father's dream, will treasure it as much as I do . . .

My uncle was a brick mason, and helped my father build the rock fireplace.  If you look closely you might see a, boot, a tee-pee, a frog, a teapot, two mountains, a fish, a stocking, or whatever your childhood imagination can find!  The fireplace is truly the showcase of the cabin, it's beautiful!

Many wonderful and tasty meals were made in this kitchen!  It wasn't very big, but it didn't matter, we would still make wonderful meals, fed masses and made memories!  All the trim was hand-carved by my father, he spent many hours getting it just right!

I can remember my mother saving bits and pieces of carpet to put on the upstairs bedroom floor.  She wanted it to looks like a pieced quilt, and she accomplished it, it turned out so cute!  I can remember so vividly the day that we nailed this carpet in place!

As we cleaned the garage, I couldn't help thinking about my father's workbench.  It was still filled with tools, tools that I know he used almost everyday that he was at the cabin.  I know that my father was the last person to use some of those tools . . . and it is the last space to be cleaned out and made ready for someone else to love.

Ahhhh, the memories!

Until next time.

Hugs,