My cup overflows

Silence and solitude.



These are not the words I would use to describe the Markham family vacation to the North Woods of Wisconsin, but in this stolen moment, they are.



It is not quite 7a and I am completely alone. It is a delicious feeling, in this moment. The lake is glass, reflecting the pine trees that stand sentinel on the opposite shore, stretching for the sun just making its way over the hillside behind me. I can hear gulls and loons (actually, I don't know what birds I'm hearing, but it is lovely and peaceful). And just now I heard a crash from the kitchen of my parents' cabin, so I won't be alone for long. Still, it is beautiful and peaceful. And you don't come on vacation with 9 adults and 8 children under 7 and expect to meditate in solitude. Like I said. I won't be alone for long.



We are having a magnificent time. We are a noisy, messy bunch, but every activity is full of plain, old-fashioned, homemade family fun. We arrived on Friday evening after an arduous drive (5+ hours) that all my kids handled with suprising good humor. The little girls napped a bit, Grace and Sam watched movies and giggled, and other than the predictable "How much furthers" and "Are we there yets" it was altogether uneventful.



We pulled up to our cabins and it wasn't 5 minutes before my older 3 kids were in the lake. The Texas boys and Bridget were a bit more hesitant (it was COLD), but that didn't stop my little ducks. Chad joined them, of course--my big kid at heart. Lucy stood on the dock and barked orders and pointed until her Daddy finally pulled her (fully clothed) into the water with them. Her delighted smile warmed us all. She only protested again when we pulled her out. Baby Eli took a run at swimming, but crawled out quickly, his blue lips quivering.



The men prepared dinner (for the most part) and we got our first taste (no pun intended) of just how very much food would be needed to feed a crew this size. We were all up way too late, and my kids had a rare bout with the whinies as they learned to deal with these Wisconsin sized mosquitos (as big as sparrows). But the grandkids were also all treated to one of my Dad's campfire stories--the first night about One-Eyed-Jack). The little kids are a bit young to appreciate it (Bridget, Claire and Nico all interrupted frequently), but Grace, Sam and Eli listened with rapt attention and shining eyes.


One of my favorite poems by Sara Teasdale describes her favorite things. One line I've always loved reads, "And children's faces looking up / holding wonder like a cup". This is such an apt description for the unabashed joy I see in the faces of these little ones I love so much. I don't know how to describe this trip, this experience of seeing my little ducks, surrounded by so many people they love in a beautiful place designed by God for their enjoyment. Eventually I'll have the time to tell the story of Eli catching his first fish, Sam the favorite target of the skeeters, Lucy's lectures to all of us, my adventure with the rope swing (I survived--barely), all of it. It's the kind of weekend that will create the verbal shorthand happy families share. It won't be long now, before someone wanders out and climbs on my lap or joins me for coffee and quiet (mom just came out with coffee for me--seriously, who deserves this kind of life?). It may be a niece or a nephew or a daughter or a son, a brother, sister, or inlaw. See, the thing is on long weekends like this--it just doesn't matter.



I remember this feeling. This is exactly how I grew up. Surrounded by more kids than many people have in their classrooms (well, not quite) and a host of aunties and mommies and Grandmas always around for a hug, a drink, a treat, a kiss. I can remember dashing to clutch a pair of legs, only after I was hugged close, looking to see what mom was holding me (Marilyn? Grandma Sue Sue? Mom?) It is just the same here.



Last night, we all huddled in the tiny living room of the "big" cottage while Dad told us the Golden Belly Button. I sat in one recliner with Bridget and Claire snuggled under blankets on my lap. The queen was fast asleep in her pack and play. Sam and my Mom cuddled on the futon. Carrie, Nico, and Chad sat on the couch. Grace and Eli curled together on the other recliner. Craig perched on the arm of the couch. Laura bounced JohnPaul in the doorway, and Brad and Eli drifted in and out. And dad sat in the corner, sipping his Miller Lite and waving his hands as he described a story I remember so well. Just a heartbeat ago it was me cuddled under sleeping bags with my beloved cousins and siblings, listening to that same story. Claire turned to me in one of her frequent bursts of affection and sighed, "Mommy, I love you so much." "I love you, too!" Bridget chirped. "I love you, Bridget," Claire giggled. "I love you, Cway-er," she replied. A phrase from scripture filled my heart--my cup overflows.