Look at those kids (sometime in the late 1940s (?)), are they thinking about one day having kids? of seeing their kids have kids? of not being around?
Of course not, that’s not what you do on a blanket at Cascade Lake.
Today, a tough double calendar reminder
Three years ago, my mom fell to her floor, her heart apparently stopped, 2 months before I planned to drive up to her home for a visit. That was also 10 years to the day my Dad’s cancer finally took him in a hospice.
My parents did not have prolonged exits; Dad’s cancer came in March and he was gone in August, though I should say that any dance with cancer is prolonged. But there was no huddling around their deathbeds, seeing the serenity fall on them, or that movie like last gasp of clarity.
For my Dad, I had visited last 3 weeks before he died, sat together in their living room, troubled by his fading awareness, but still present like I always knew him.
For my Mom, 3 years ago, I called her in the morning on the phone, leaving on my way to Montreal, and we joked and teased and laughed like always. It was just another day.
Fifteen hours later that day was gone. Forever.
So I found the photo of them together, scanned from a scrapbook Mom made. She labeled it “Lake Cascade”, and I got a bit curious about where that was– on internet searches I only came up with ones in Idaho and North Carolina, places I knew they would not have gone together before they got married.
So on a whim, I switched the search to Cascade Lake, and found a 1999 vintage web page- Where Memories Are Made
This lake is in Hampstead, Maryland, not far from where my sister lives now. Back in the 1940s, this would have been a long journey to the country from urban Baltimore. There is nothing about it’s history on the About Page. According to a Maryland History page, it was certainly man made.
There are still information gaps on the internet.
I do not know the history of Cascade Lake.
But I know my parents went there on a date before they were my parents. They were there with Doris and Howie Berger, Herbie Moses, Yale Aarons (Mom’s captions in her scrapbook).
And so today, I do not need a history, I can make up my own story of a magical day on Lake Cascade. Where memories were made.
Beautiful memory, Alan! I remember talking about that day with mom. They were so happy that day with their good friends. It is hard to believe that it has been 13 years since I sat with dad and 3 years since I got that horrible call about mom. We still have each other, you, me and Harriet to share the memories. Thanks for always writing such moving comments about our beloved parents.