NEWS FROM THE HILLS
Thin shafts of pale sunlight filter down through the tall poplar trees and ruffled layers of hemlock boughs. Patches of blue sky show through drifting white clouds, and it promises to be a fair day.
It rained in the night, a slow, soft rain that made music on the camper roof. We were lulled to sleep by the steady drip and the muted roar of William’s River as it swirled around immense boulders and fallen trees.
The campsite is peaceful in the early morning, cool and quiet. We are surrounded by rhododendrons and smaller hemlocks that grow all the way down to the river. Sweet ferns and wildflowers abound, with blue violets peeping around yellow buttercups and trailing cinquefoil.
There is a tall white flower, resembling Queen Anne’s lace that grows thickly along each side of the road. It looks like water hemlock, but lacks the fragrance. It could be cow parsnip, although it doesn’t grow in our area at home. The young stems and roots of cow parsnip can be cooked and eaten. We are leery of it however, because it resembles water hemlock which is extremely poisonous.
We are also surrounded by family. Our son Mike came up early and set up camp, along with his wife Peggy, daughter Chrissy, and grandchildren Donovan and Alexis. It resembles a settlement, with their camper, an original shower house (planned and constructed by Mike) a three-room tent, and a pavilion.
After we parked our camper, and son Andy, wife Jennifer, and children Nicholas and Taylor set theirs up across from us, it expanded. My brother Larry and wife Alice lined their camper behind us, and it began to look like a wagon train.
Two of Chrissy’s friends came along and spent a night in the tent, and grandson Joseph (just back from Iraq) and wife Bridget came for a night. Grandson Jeremy (Mike’s son) and his wife Christy came up the last part of the week. Mike’s friend Randy Hively and wife Carol visited one evening.
The campfire at night was our favorite time. We kept a little fire going all day, but when dark came, firewood was piled high. As the flames flickered and cast shadows on the trees surrounding us, we sat on camp chairs around the fire and talked and reminisced. The little ones roasted marshmallows and flaunted sticky hands and faces.
We cooked and ate together, amid much joking and laughter. It was a warm and happy family time, one that will remain in the memories of the grandchildren. As far back as I can remember, each spring Daddy took all of us to William’s River to camp and fish.
I love this place, where memories lurk in each curve of the river. It is impossible to come up here and not remember Daddy. I can almost see him coming into camp now, with his fishing hat full of dry flies, and the wicker creel that he favored full of trout. He would moisten sweet ferns and layer them with the fish to keep them cool and fresh.
As I retreated to a secluded spot amid small hemlocks to pray and meditate, I wondered if Daddy had ever prayed in this same place. He loved to pray in the outdoors and spent much time talking to the Lord. I wondered too if his prayers were still encircling and protecting us. When a person dies, do their prayers not linger on?
Even though Father’s Day is behind me, there is a void in my heart. I thought of how important a father is to a child, and how there is a special bond between a father and a daughter. A son has his own place that is just as important, but we daughters need our fathers.
We always came running to him with our childish hurts and woes, and they got better when we told Daddy. Later, when the more serious problems of adulthood came, he was there with wise advice and warm support.
After he had a massive stroke, the very essence of Daddy was gone forever. What I missed most was being able to tell him things. Trials came, and I wanted to fling myself in Daddy’s arms and pour out my heartaches to him. His poor, broken body was there, but the kind and sympathetic mind was gone.
A good earthly father lays the groundwork for a deep relationship with our Heavenly Father. Just as we learn early to run to Daddy with our troubles, we learn that our Father in heaven is always ready to listen, guide, console, and strengthen. He has promised that He will never leave or forsake us.
Alyce Faye can be reached at alycefaye@citlink.net
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