I did not know it until 2006. And I did not put words to it until much later. Many times I had read about people who have a special spot where they feel more at peace than anywhere else in their life. I have many places I love to be – San Diego, the mountains, Alaska. But I had never really taken the time to think about finding the place where I experience peace and joy.
For some it is their home, and although I love my home, that is not the spot. When I retired in 2006 and spent 3 weeks at the cabin with Diana, I realized then how much I love being there. And as the years have gone by, and we have spent more and more time in the mountains, I have gained a greater and greater appreciation for it. About the first of April, I get an itch that just can’t be scratched. “Time to go to the cabin,” it says. And the itch only goes away after our first trip.
Even after the most fabulous 79-day trip to Alaska, where the scenery is far more fantastic than that in the Pecos, where the animals are more exciting to see, I could not wait to get to the Holy Ghost. I find that in the familiarity of the trees and grass, the talkativeness of the stream, and the smell and calm of the cabin, my soul is fed and my heart is filled.
Perhaps everyone has that place; I don’t know because I have never asked. But I am filled with gratitude that my parents, in their young wisdom, knew that a cabin would be a good place to bring children. The cabin has woven itself into my entire being, and even when I am away from it, it is in my soul. And I hope it is in Kenneth’s and Diana’s . . . and working its way into Caleb’s and Tessa’s.
