Marissa had just turned one, and Lindsay was not yet even in the plans when we first stayed at the cottage on Thomas Pond. Built by the parents of Jill’s college friend Liz, it had the rustic allure of the film On Golden Pond. Quiet, peaceful, loon pairs, families of geese, canoes and paddle boats, no television but with electricity and plumbing. We were young and enchanted and without knowing it began constructing family traditions with unbreakable bonds and deep roots. Last week we returned for our annual stay, now less than a week but still made graciously available to us as the only non-family members having access. (The Wood family is now into its third generation of cottage-goers, so we are delighted to schedule our days whenever offered in their family calendar planning.)

Over the years the cottage has gained accoutrements of that family’s growing interests, talents and needs. It became part of our family tradition to ‘find the new things’ each year. Some where obvious, like the carpeting over the cement slab floor, or the window curtains, or the television (both a blessing and a curse), or the microwave, or the new dock. Others less so, like the can opener or the extra set of coffee mugs or the replacement screens. Of course, as the cottage changed, so did we. Our activities took on more variety as the girls moved through childhood into adolescence and now are adults. Over the years we added a trip to Freeport, first night lobsters for everyone, fried shrimp boats at the Lobster Shack at Two Lights State Park, s’mores, occasional friends adding to the mix, eventually even a boyfriend, wine tasting at the Blacksmith Winery, collecting sea glass, feeding the ducks, and watching the loons.

Every year at least one of the girls, but in a remarkable blessing, most years they both want to and can be with us for a couple of days. Last week for two days and nights, both girls managed to join us. Marissa is now 29 and Lindsay 25, and we still play “find the new thing,” still go to Freeport, eat lobster, watch the loons, and taste the wine. And again this year, when we returned home, I sprinkled a handful more sea glass into the vase on our coffee table.