This story goes way back, well before my time. My mom's father was killed in action in WWII two months before she was born. My grandmother worked multiple jobs during my mom's childhood to make ends meet. When my mom was a pre-teen, my grandmother sent her to New York to spend a year with my grandmother's sister and her husband. They lived in Brooklyn and were both writers. My great uncle was a novelist and my great aunt worked for Time and Life magazines. It was around this time that my great aunt and uncle started building a cabin on some property they had purchased in western New York.
This summer, like most summers over the years, my mom is in the cabin in the woods. Both my great aunt and uncle have passed and having no children of their own, my mom inherited the property. She is now 78 and, while in great shape, isn't comfortable getting herself up there these days. This May, I got her up and settled for the summer.
It starts with a plane ride. Airplane rides are the best when they are uneventful. This one was very uneventful.
We arrived in town a little after noon and were both hungry. However, when she turned her phone on she had a missed call from the company that was shipping her car. The year before last, we bought her a car for the summer, actually sold it for more afterwards, but it was a lot more work than we expected. Last year, she just rented a car but it's expensive and they only let you keep a car for a month, so she would have to go to town and swap cars. My sister found that for $900.00 we could get her car delivered via flatbead in 1-3 days. We met the drivers at a shuttered deli. Coronavirus took out several of the few places to eat in this small town. After settling up with the delivery guys, we quickly settled in and headed out for a late lunch. They know how to make a great slice in New York!
The cabin is tucked away down a private road with two other cabins. The owners of these are the same ones she grew up with when she was first here. So it's truly a special place for her.
My first plane ride ever was to Newark, New Jersey, the closest airport at the time. I remember a lot about my first visit here too. What still stands out the most was what my great uncle called the Birch John Society, the birch covered outhouse, as there wasn't a septic system at the time, that is still in use today. And the croquet court. You can see what remains of it in the center right. It's not as smooth as it once was.
I can't remember the last time my mom and I spent time together alone. We really didn't do much this trip but talk. And eat! After a stop at our favorite diner in Milford, PA, we took a walk through the grounds at
Grey Towers. After a quick stop in Port Jervis at her favorite deli for dinner later, we headed back to the cabin.
We were there a little earlier than she is used to being there so a lot of flowers were in bloom still that she usually misses. Here are a few bonus shots of those.
After spending the morning talking and strolling the forest, it was time for me to head home. Back to the heat. It's not so green here.
I've got a bunch of photos over the years with my boys and their cousins playing in the woods much like my mom when she was little as well as other wonderful views of the area here on my
Flickr feed.
And I have to share these two photos of my mom taken in the same spot just a few years apart:
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