At 62…Summer’s end

Mike and I planned to be in Coffman Cove, AK every year from roughly May 1 until sometime in October. Our plans were to be residents in two homes – with one foot in both of our Arkansas/Alaska communities that we loved. With Mike’s death in mid-April and the Canadian ferry service ending 10/1, this year in Coffman was cut way too short.

Mike never thought that I could make it alone in Coffman after he passed. I proved this summer that I can. What neither of us fully realized is that I wouldn’t be alone. Not really. Not for a single day.

This was the summer of the grandmothers at Powell’s Place. Our dear friends, the Holtmans, had two moms to house. So Kate’s mom, Ann, had the lower cabin for about six weeks. Josh’s mom, Cindy, had the upper cabin for about five months. And I had our home for almost three months. We were all close to the same age, and there was a lot of laughter, cooking, a few karaoke nights, and a couple of great bonfires involved. There was the blessing of new friendships – one of the main reasons Mike and I wanted to run rental cabins. We both simply like and get along with most people, and we’ve kept up with many of the folks we’ve rented to over the years.

The community that I’m so blessed to be a part of just flat rallied around me this summer. It was an amazing – and unexpected – gift. We all take care of each other in our small world. I was determined to learn as much as I could this summer, and vowed not to depend on anyone for help on things I could do myself. I was so grateful for every single lesson, helping hand, and cheering section comment from our neighbors. And I was most grateful for the tasks done – paid and unpaid – that I could not do (either yet or ever)!

This was also the summer of deepening friendships. This was our fourth year in Coffman Cove. Every day this summer, I learned more about our friends here. We shared meals, shopping trips, crafting days, fishing trips and expeditions. I was offered ready shoulders to cry on and reveled in many hours of happy laughter and stories. I heard so many newly-told tales of Mike, some that made me laugh, some that made me cry, and some that reminded me again and again how much he loved me and how blessed we were together.

This was my summer to work on healing. My summer to spend trying to get used to being on my own again without Mike. Due to circumstances beyond my control – or Mike’s – that was more challenging than it needed to be. Mike always told me that my easy trust in people needed to be laced with a good dose of skepticism. I always pushed back against that notion, but I’m beginning to think he was right. I’ve done a lot of praying about it, and I know that God will lead me to the answer, just as He has so many times before.

So. I’m sitting at the front of the ferry, watching Canadian islands stream past. The wind is whistling through the windows, so strong that it’s pretty much impossible to walk along the outside railing. Prince Rupert is in view. That’s the start of our vacation home.

It’s time to pop the summer bubble. Time to go home and see my daughter who I’ve missed so much. Time to see old friends and make new ones. Time to get back to work for real. Time to deal with new challenges. Time to learn more country girl lessons on our place in Dover. And time to make ready for next summer in Coffman Cove.

Time. Because after the not-so-very lazy days of summer, there’s really no point in wasting a second of it…at 62.