Ready for the Lake?

I'm trying to get together a mental list of what I want to take to the lake with us. I need to make sure I have sunscreen and swim diapers, clothes, toys, and sippy cups. I should take a stroller, in case we want to (of COURSE we want to) hit the outlet mall.

I don't think I'm bringing anything to read, as I know there won't really be much quiet time with Elliot along.

I'm going back and forth on the Wii. We brought it down last year, and Karl shot a fantastic video of the beautiful, sunshiny day outside, and us playing Wii tennis in the living room. Hah. Maybe I'll consult with Brad and Beth on this one...

Either way, the physical baggage for this trip will be substantial. Overnighting with a toddler requires quite the carload of goods.

Then there's the emotional baggage.

I used to spend the 4th of July in Arkansas, shooting fireworks on my Uncle Jim's property. The first year Karl and I were dating, we were apart for the first time (we were sort of marathon dating...) over the 4th. That was the year Melissa's purse cought fire... Anyway, after that we spent the next 3 years with Brad at his parent's condo on the lake.

There are so many reasons I loved those weekends. The lake, the boat, the jet-ski, the friends and companionship, the Mexican train domino tournaments... but most of all I loved being there with Karl. It was always the closest we came to feeling like we did when we first started dating, because a: we were worlds away from any responsibility, and b: he didn't drink.

I loved Karl all the time, but he was a heavy drinker. When I met him, he was on a 9 month round of medication which did not allow him to consume alcohol. He had been drinking when we first met, but our courtship and engagement happened while he was sober, and that's the man I fell in love with.

When he started drinking again (before we were married) he changed - he wasn't quite as brilliant, quite as perceptive, or quite as loving when he drank. Karl worked in an intense and demanding field, and a few drinks at night helped him let go of the day's many stresses, but it also muted him a bit. No, not the volume - that went up, as anybody who ever met the "Mad Scotsman" knows. But it dulled his wit a little, and turned his thoughts inward, making him a little darker, and harder to really know.

So my favorite Karl I got to see once a year, at the lake.

I know I'll still look for him. I'm not at the point in my grieving that I've really accepted that he's gone, and part of me secretly hopes he's there, although I know (I KNOW!) he's not. I have a photo of him at the lake last year. I think it's kind of funny that he's fuzzy and bleary looking, and here I am talking about how clear he was... but that's the shot I'm thinking about printing up and taking down to put in the book at the lake.

That, and my flipflops, and my sun hat, and Elliot's spare bink (just in case) and his Giraffe for sleepytime. And snacks for the road, and water, and a few movies, and ....