Sisters at Baker Lake

"It makes me so sad to see you like this, Gwennie!" Tragedy was written all over my sister Solange's face. I admit, I sobbed for a few hours when it first happened but I know a few people who would trade conditions with me in a second.   Solange was just as upset over  her daughter's curly hair and her son's awkward gait.  Thanks to her influence, we both used to feel sorry for toys we neglected.

"There is a bright side," I countered as I limped to  a lounge chair in my garage and sat heavily with my bum leg stretched out. I dropped my crutch and  smiled at the huge pile of sleeping bags, camp kitchen supplies, tents, loose flashlights, and overstuffed canvas bags in front of me. 

 "I really love your house, Gwen. Wouldn't it be a lot easier if we had the kids sleep in tents in the back yard?  Then we'd still have coffee, we can go running and biking..." Her voice trailed off ...

About 10 minutes later, Solange, Eric, and Summer had loaded everything into the van, the Subaru and the clamshell above the van.  It looked like a miracle to a person who could barely shower or put a bowl in the dishwasher.

"Can I do anything do help, Gwen?" My sunny sister, Judy, had just gotten in from 2 red eye flights with her  8 and 9 year old kids.  It wasn't til she returned with my coffee mug cleaned and filled with water that I remembered that she was hungry and was facing a chaotic garage rather than the homemade lunch she was promised.   Thank goodness, my daughter Emily who refused in no uncertain terms to come camping, brought Vietnamese sandwiches for everyone. Judy actually finished her food for the first time in her life.

It required the full 2 1/2 hour drive to Baker Lake to sever me and my sisters from our phones. My extended absence greeting probably infuriated everyone in my car as well as the poor patients destined to hear it later.  Solange had to log in to find out where her husband biked that day and how his speed compared with their mountain biking teammates.    When Judy signed off, the huge network of people that collaborate with her to employ the disabled temporarily lost their guiding light.

Finally freed from the car, we wandered around Panorama Point Campground. The forest floor was covered with soft mounds of earth pushed up by tree roots.  Soft gray daylight brightened as soon as you stepped from the woods to the beach. The  greenish blue lake water  stroked the pebbles like a whispered version of the ocean's surf.  Rocky peaks with bright white snow filling all but their craggiest edges looked the same size as the wooded hills in front of them. Clouds moved  among these giants as if misty dreams can stand up to  concrete.

Solange would have gladly put up both tents by herself leaving lazy kids and sluggish sisters behind but after struggling to insert the poles into the corner loops, she accepted help from me and Judy. 

"Even mosquitos like younger women better. I don't get it- I dye my hair and everything." Solange complained when we were finally relaxing around the fire. Solange felt older than her daughters but she couldn't stand "old people," who complained about fast bikers. I had been lulled into thinking I'm near retirement myself thanks to all of my retired music and pickleball friends.  And now, I had a handicapped tag. Solange was only 14 months younger than me.  "Women are so useless, " Solange also informed us.  "They get boob jobs, go shopping and complain about their husband's mountain biking. But horrible as some marriages may be, divorce is worse....Every single mass murderer comes from  divorced parents."

"Best camping trip ever!!" interrupted Zachary, Judy's 9 year old son. His  cousin helped him hold his marshmallow just outside the flames.

Judy looked at her sweet little boy laughing.  "I love my divorce, thank you very much."

Raindrops fell on my face, gently waking me from  a deep sleep. I did not want to leave my  hammock cocoon.  It wasn't until I felt the wetness seeping into my backside that I finally rolled out and joined Solange in her pup tent. "Poor Gwen! Get in here!" She said before falling back asleep.  I was the first to wake up the next morning. I dunked my hair in the lake, soaked my good foot, and rinsed my face. I had swum in the lake before and I would do it again. I wish my patients would recover too. David with stage 4 lymphoma. Annette recovering from a self inflicted gunshot wound to face criminal charges.  And 4 year old  Arnav  who fell out his second story window to land in the ICU.  The clouds obscured all the large mountains but I felt them all around me.