Lake Winnipesaukee from a residential beach in Gilford, NH.
As mentioned in other pieces featured on this blog, my formative years involved long days at the beach during the summers, days at Lake Opechee, Lake Winnipesaukee, & Lake Winnisquam. In the 1980s, the sun lacked the intensity, the hazard of current day. The Weather Channel wasn’t issuing National Weather Advisory notices related to poor air quality, warning everyone to stay inside in an air-conditioned room rather than spend the day at the beach.
No, these were the days of coconut-scented tanning oil & spray-in highlight-inducing chemicals like Sun-In or lemon juice to create blond streaks. We’d bring a boom box, & WLNH provided a soundtrack to those summer days at the beach. Idyllic.
The incredible blue sky & water of the NH Lakes Region.
The kind of songs that transport me back to that time are those like, “Automatic” by the Pointer Sisters, “Cruel Summer” by Bananarama, “Power of Love” by Huey Lewis & the News, “Southern Cross” by Crosby, Nash, Stills & Young, or “Sailing” by Christopher Cross. I really loved songs by Toto, like “Rosanna,” “99,” “Africa,” & “Hold the Line.” So many memories.
My big sister would take me up to The Weirs, with its long boardwalk & penny arcade, pizza by the slice, bumper cars & the drive-in movie theater across the street. The waterslide was a very special treat on rare occasions.
When daring, I’d scramble up & sit on the lifeguard seat towers during off-duty hours.
The NH Lakes Region holds many memories for me, those of a simpler time–carefree summer days when my biggest worry was getting a sunburn or having to rinse off my toes before putting on my sandals so that my feet wouldn’t hurt. Even now, I can close my eyes & be transported back to that place, as if no time has passed, as if I weren’t the middle-aged adult now frequenting those beaches as a parent instead of as the kid.
It seems only fair, right? When we reflect on the gifts of childhood bestowed upon us by our parents, we realize they too once felt as we do now. We feel… Indebted. Like it’s now our turn to repay our parents in passing along those gifts to our children. We feel compelled to make it all worth something, their sacrifices of self.
View at Gilford Beach.
Maybe I’m unique in feeling these things, but I’m doubtful I am. And that’s something that parenthood is teaching me. You start to see life through another set of eyes, your child’s eyes, which then in turn helps you to understand your own parents all the better. It’s a curious feeling, or experience. That surreal sense of now taking your parents’ seats on the merry-go-round of life.
The lovely pines that surround NH lakes.
Fellow introverts, where are those places that act as wormholes in time & space, those places that transport you to your childhood or adolescence? Those places where you can hear the sounds, smells the scents, taste the food, touch the very things that root you to the past? What are those combinations? How do they affect you?
My eldest niece (she made me an aunt at age 8, my sister’s daughter) & my son, the oldest & youngest of the grandchildren from my immediate family.
When you slow down & close your eyes, isn’t it strange how your core self feels no different today from how you felt inside all those many years ago? How does such reflection alter your approach to the present?
I remember once asking my father (then in his mid-60s) if he felt different inside from how he felt at 18. He said he didn’t feel any different. Sure, he knew more. But as for his interior being? He felt just the same. Exactly the same.
The lovely coastline of Gilford beach with its visitor’s pavilion.
What a beautiful blog, Sharon! I’m looking forward to seeing more of it.
Having not so long ago turned sixty, I can confirm that I don’t feel any different to how I felt at 18. Which could be seen as a double-edged sword – still the same insecurities despite the decades of experiences gathered. (sigh…) That said, the passing of years does colour life and not necessarily in a bad way. I find it much easier now to appreciate each day 🙂
Your lovely post reminds me of a conversation with my daughter in which she talked about how she looks back on her childhood as filled with happy memories and acceptance. She is now herself the mother of two young and lively sons. I watch her with them and hold the joy in their family very close to my heart, for it’s that joy which they will take with them as they grow.
From one INFJ to another … 🙂
Thank you for such a kind, thoughtful response to my blig & post. Please know I’m very grateful you’d read my work and also reflect so deeply, sharing your thoughts and experiences with me. Your daughter sounds lovely, like her mother, passing on the love she’s been taught to her children. What a legacy you’ve created! . So wonderful to connect with you, fellow INFJ! 😀
I’m probably a bit closer to Sandra’s age than yours, so my cultural memories of times in the lakes region are a bit different.
Two are of their time: 1) I spent one vacation dreaming of Arthurian England while walking the shores of Lake Winnisquam(!), thank to reading “The Crystal Cave” by Mary Stewart.
2) I watched “The Godfather” at the Weirs beach drive-in. The movie was so long, they started it when it was barely dusk, and since the early scenes are mostly dark, we spent the first few minutes just listening to the dialogue.
But one I suspect is more timeless: I spent a whole day drifting on an air raft, floating on Winnisquam. That night, when I went to bed, every time I shut my eyes, I thought I was drifting on the raft instead!
Those are lovely memories! The drifting on the raft especially… Reminds me of how I revisit floating & snorkeling at Molokini Crater, Maui, Hawaii. Another happy place! 😀
I love the paragraph about feeling the same at your core. I’ve often said this and remember wondering when I was very young, if I’d think the same when I got older.
Thank you for reading, Jodi! Yes, the soul doesn’t age, doesn’t perceive time. How can we place finite terms on someone that’s so profoundly infinite?