Memories, the ones you can close your eyes and see in vivid colors. The ones you can smell just thinking about them. The good ones-where you unknowingly smile because you can hear laughter clear as day in the middle of the quiet. These are the memories I want to remember and to remember often, because they are filled with people, a time, and a place that are dearest to me. And when I find myself thinking about our time up at Grand, that’s what I experience.

“Remember that time up at Grand?”

It’s a common way to start a conversation in our family, and it’s almost always followed by a story that makes us laugh and remember a time in our lives that just felt so sweet. My grandparents used to own a second home near Red Arrow on Grand Lake here in Oklahoma, and it served as a weekend getaway for our families when we were all a little bit younger. My parents, aunts, and uncles would have been closer to my age now, while my cousins, siblings, and I, or “us kids,” would have been the ages that my three boys are. Think the first decade of the 2000s, before Facebook, before Instagram- when people enjoyed life for the living, and not for the posting. It feels like it was a long time ago, and yet not long at all.

Now this house wasn’t a super fancy place like you might picture when I say, “second home” or “lake house.” No Siree, it was even better. A three-bedroom double-wide trailer on a corner lot filled to the brim with tall pines in the backyard. The covered back porch had the comfiest porch swing you could wish to lay on, and the pine needles that covered the ground in layers kept us kids busy raking trails. In the light of day, the living room boasted a forest green carpet that held a plaid couch, my great-grandma’s gliders, and two maroon rocking chairs. In the evening, you couldn’t see any of that green floor for all of the blowup beds that were laid out for all of us little ones to sleep on. And it’s here on the floor, lying under one of my grandma’s quilts on a blow-up bed that I can see, hear, and smell everything, as if it were only yesterday.

I’m not sure how old I am in this moment, because over the years, the good things about this place never really changed. We’re supposed to be falling asleep in the living room, but who can sleep with all the laughter happening at the kitchen table? Is it Mexican Train Dominoes, Farkle, or Phase 10 that the grown-ups are playing? I guess it’s not that important; they always say the same thing to each other, no matter the game. “Oh, the score keeper is always in the lead!” “Who just skipped me?!” “Payback’s coming.” It might have been dark outside, but the house was very much alive and well under that kitchen table light. Amidst the loud laughter and teasing, us kids are snuggled down in our covers watching episodes of Full House that ran on the Nick at Nite channel. It’s such a treat that the little box-shaped TV has cable- something that makes it feel like a real vacation getaway. We don’t need the noise of a sound machine or fan to fall asleep to, because nothing could be better than trying to keep our heavy eyelids open to see the smiling faces of our parents and grandparents circled around the table. The sound of laughter is a good one to drift off to, and I’m already looking forward to the morning to watch it all play out again.

The smell of Folgers coffee brewing in the otherwise quiet house wakes me up, and I open my eyes to see my grandpa in the kitchen in his bare feet and overalls. He (not so quietly) shuffles through the kitchen for his coffee before he sits down to put on his shoes, before heading out the side door that leads to the shop. This is my cue to wiggle out of bed and sneak into the bathroom to get ready for the day. Slowly but surely, kitchen lights and living room lamps flip on, and we all know we’re in for another fun day. Fried eggs and a can of biscuits, or as my grandpa calls “Whomp’ems,” was normal on the menu, or a simple bowl of cereal- it just depends on what the day holds for us. This is when everyone will gather together before making their plans for the day. Some of them will load up the golf cart with fishing poles and buckets to head to the docks, and the rest will stay behind to play more games or relax on the back porch swing. Sometimes us kids tag along to go fishing, and if we are really lucky, we get to ride in our grandparents’ Lund boat to set out jugs for catfish. But for the most part, we stay behind to play under the pine trees with rakes in our hands. We rake piles and piles of those pine needles that my grandpa will burn, or we rake them into trails for when the parents bring the golf cart back. Give a kid permission to drive a golf cart, and you just made them feel like the kings and queens of Grand Lake. We burned hours of time and gallons of gas riding laps around the yard and the small community of Crace Shores. Almost twenty years later, I know for a fact that all of us kids hold some adventure-filled stories about those golf cart rides that we still probably aren’t ready to share with our parents!

If we weren’t out riding the golf cart, then we were probably inside, sitting around the smaller card table that sat between the kitchen and living room. The parents weren’t the only ones who had fun playing games, because our grandpa made sure to teach us a thing or two about cards. Skip-Bo was the usual go-to, but UNO, checkers, and eventually Phase 10 would all make appearances at the kid table. I think I can speak for all of us kids when I say one of the best parts about our time up at the lake was that we felt included. Now days most people want to put a screen in front of the kids to keep them distracted and occupied, but not then…not there. We got to be in the middle of all the fun, even if our grandpa never really did take it easy on us and ended up winning most of the card games. Or I think back to when they rescued two little orphaned squirrels and let us help take care of ‘Chip and Dale’. There was always adventure to be had. The early years of our time spent up at the lake were almost as pure and genuine as they come. There were no iPhones or social media, so everything that was done was done for the simple fact that it was worth doing. The games, the laughing, the fishing, and the laps in the golf cart weren’t done to be posted on social media, and we weren’t interrupted by phone calls, text messages, or scrolling. It was just a group of families who cherished time with each other in the simplest form. I can almost guarantee that it’s why, when I think back to my very best memories of my childhood, the most vivid scenes I can look back on, the ones that feel so special and carefree…were there. In that double-wide trailer where I can still hear the laughs, the teasing, the talking. Where I can smell the coffee, the breakfast, and the lake water near the docks. Where I can close my eyes and imagine that I can be there again, listening to our parents laughing at the kitchen table, giggles coming from the kids at the card table, and where I can see my brother driving the golf cart through the pine trees. It’s just so sweet to linger there.

I often find myself writing that “seasons come and seasons go,” and so they do. All of us kids got older, and by the time we were all in high school, we stopped visiting the lake house like we were able to when we were younger. Schedules filled up a little faster, and the upkeep of two houses in different cities required a little more upkeep than what my grandparents could continue with, so they chose to sell the house up at the lake. It’s a decision no one faults them for, in fact, looking back, we’re all glad they chose to stay at the house they have now, which is close to most of our family. I often find myself talking about the memories we had up there, but it’s not from a heart posture of longing for the house, but instead, it’s relishing in the sweetness of it all, the clarity of the memories, and the pure joy I find in taking my imagination back to that time and place. I guess it’s actually fitting that I wasn’t able to round up a lot of pictures from our time there. We were probably having fun for fun’s sake…and enjoying every moment of our time up at the lake.