A North Woods Goodbye
But they that wait
upon the Lord shall renew their strength;
they shall mount up
with wings as eagles;
they shall run, and
not be weary;
and they shall walk,
and not faint.
— Isaiah 40:31
We just got back from a glorious
week in the most beautiful place in the world: the towering timbers and
sky-blue waters of a big wilderness lake on the Canadian border of Minnesota.
My grandfather and father built a cottage there over 60 years ago. It was our
place to connect with God and nature and each other, to refresh, relax and
renew.
The cabin, then . . .
. . . and now. (photos by
my nephew, Mark Hanus)
Sadly, a few years ago, the federal
government took it away, using the power of eminent domain to create Voyageurs
National Park. They demolished our cabin along with many others so that
everything would look as it did hundreds of years ago.
I saw it for the first time this
past week. We cut the motor, and just stared. The white cottage was gone. The
dock was gone. All vestiges of over 60 years of human habitation were gone. Yes,
I cried.
Suddenly, a magnificent bald eagle
floated down and perched in a tall tree, standing sentinel, swaying in the
wind. I smiled through my tears, thinking of my late father. It was as if
everything good about that place was back -- the memories, the people, the love.
Those couldn't be lost; they are mine forever. The wind whispered, the waves
lapped, the sunlight shone on that proud eagle head, and suddenly, everything
was back in place.
For the week, we rented a cabin at a
resort a half-hour down the lake, operating outside the boundaries of the
national park. Also staying there were 30 people in a family from Indiana
having their annual reunion. They have been coming up to that same lake for
almost as long as we have. They were in multiple cabins, and with separate
activities each day, but they all got together each night for a family dinner.
Our Maddy and their Tabby, both 7,
had a great time together on the beach. One of their elders taught us how to
play "Hot Dice." We gave them some homegrown tomatoes and exchanged fishing
tips.
Then they told us this story: their
family matriarch had developed Alzheimer's Disease and hadn't been able to attend
the family reunion for many years.
Eventually, the eldest son took her
into his home in Texas. She rebounded markedly. Last summer, at age 93, she was
in good enough health to come to the Minnesota reunion.
The great-grandchildren had never
even seen Grandma, or been around anyone that old. They thought she "rocked" in
more ways than one. She smiled the whole week, conveying that she knew she was
with her family, even if she couldn't say their names. Miraculously, she did
remember names of islands and details about the lake. She even found a purpose:
she folded all the napkins for those big dinners, and sat in the place of
honor, enjoying the chatter and activity.
On the last night, Grandma tripped
on a kitchen stool and sprawled to the floor. She insisted that she was OK. A
granddaughter who is a nurse checked her out, and concurred. Grandma went back
to Texas with her son.
Two days later, she died peacefully in
her sleep. Everyone marveled. It was a good goodbye.
That's why I love it so much in the
North Woods: it's a place of restoration. And the secret has nothing to do with
us.
The secret's in the deep blue waters
and tall, dark timbers . . .
. . . the wind and waves and
sparkling stars . . .
. . . the call of a loon and the
white whisk of a deer's tail . . .
. . . a place so beautiful you ache
to see it, and thank the One Who made it . . .
. . . the One Who arranged for a
happy ending for a precious old lady . . .
. . . the
One Who sent an eagle just to let us know He's still there, and always will be,
and that everything's still in place. †
