The Lake

For those of you who read my wifes blog,(http://fortheroadlesstraveled.blogspot.com/) youll know that my grandma Dinna was just laid to rest. She was, to say the least, an amazing woman. Both her and my grandfather Art Madsen, were some of the first pioneers in the Quetico region of Ontario. Thats a rather large area just north of Minnesota, filled with literally hundreds of lakes and islands. My grandfather was one of the original park rangers in that area, back when that didnt just mean someone you bought your fishing license from. They had "beats" they patrolled by dogsled, snowshoe, canoe and on foot. Both my grandparents built airplanes in WWII, the big bombers, they hunted, trapped, fished, survived and thrived in the wilderness. My grandpa built his first permanent cabin on Red Pine Island, on Big Saganaga Lake. It almost straddles the Canada/US border. You could throw a rock from the shore and hit the US. (some of you might want to do that, I dunno).
My grandmother married Art in 1946 and they started a family out in the Canadian wilderness. Most people now-days wouldnt, or couldnt even fathom doing such a thing. How could they survive without hospitals, TV, cellphones and starbucks? HOW!? Survive they did, though not without tragedy. My mother was the second oldest of 6 kids, Chris, Sandy (mom) Helen-Sue (the snowshoe baby, my grandmother hiked over the frozen lake the winter she was born to meet my grandfather during a snowstorm to get to the hospital...what?? yes.) Dave, Judy and Chucky. Chucky drowned when he was almost 3..something I remember my grandfather ALWAYS telling us about when we didnt wear our life jackets around camp. Life there was hard...but good. My grandparents built many more cabins together and started Camp Sagonto together, one of the first fishing resorts in that area. I spent many of my summers there growing up, always loving my time there. Being able to swim and run around in the woods as a child is something I will never forget. Theres something to be said about that kind of lifestyle. Living off the land out of necessity. People who look down on hunters and hunting have no idea what that is like, having to feed your family off whatever you can get sometimes...bears, deer, moose, beaver..whatever it takes.
My grandfather died on July 26, 2000. He was 8 days away from turning 96. Almost right up to his death, he was still cutting wood, repairing roofs, running his trap line and fishing. He would walk everyday for exercise, and I remember, everytime we would visit he would always check our arms and make us flex to see how much theyd grown. My grandfather was a man of extreme honor, moral character and honesty. He was always trying to teach us kids stuff, and most of the time I didnt care to listen or wasnt interested. When he died I battled with much remorse on that fact. But looking back on his life now that Im older, I can learn from it and I can only hope Im even half the man my grandfather was. His grave isnt even marked, but for some reason that seems fitting to me. He was a legend in his own right, but never looked for recognition. Just the right thing.
I hadnt seen my grandmother since my grandpas funeral. Either thru circumstance or excuse I wasnt able to go visit her. Not that living in Alaska during that time made it all that easy...but it was still doable. My grandmother was equaly as strong in character as my grandfather. Her twinkling eyes and laugh warmed your heart like nothing else, and her STRONG, bear-like hug made you forget you just did something stupid. She was almost larger than life even tho she was maybe 5 foot nothing. Her stories could fill volumes of books, and probly sell very very well.
Having not seen my grandma in so long, let alone most of my family, really made me remember where I came from. Its sad that things that were such a huge part of your life in the past, so easily fade into the background after, really, some very short years. Yes theres alot in my life that has changed since then, but really, it wasnt that long of a time.
Standing by my grandmothers grave on friday, the cold wind blowing and looking around at the tearful faces, made me come back to that place.
The lake.
It will forever be part of my families legacy, and I hope one day I can bring my children there.

I love you grandma and grandpa...and I cant wait to see you again.