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When Life Gives You Lemons,

It had been a while since I had taken my spot by the lake, and honestly, I was becoming bored of being alone. Sure, I hated being in large crowds, and being alone usually satisfied me, but today, it seemed as if I could not be satisfied. No matter what I did, no matter what I drew, it all did not satisfy me. Even my first drawing, the one of the lake, I had scrapped and restarted multiple times; because I honestly could not get in the correct mood to draw it the way I wanted to draw it.

I was just about to give up, to gather my things and head back to the house, when I heard a familiar voice. Looking up, I saw my uncles standing nearby, and quickly pulled a headphone from my ear so that I could hear them better. I laugh, listening to first Percy, and then to Lewys as they spoke. “Oh no, feel free to join me, I was getting rather bored of being alone anyway. One can only listen to music for so long before all your drawings begin to look alike, I could use a change. Besides, a visit from my favorite uncles is never a bad thing, and you are not geezers,” I say, laughing a little more as the word roles off my tongue. No, one is only as old as their heart feels, so my uncles were in no way geezers, and oddly enough, neither were my grandparents. My parents on the other hand, that was debatable, it seemed as if they never had any fun, and when they did, it was not the type of fun normal people enjoyed. If I had to take a guess, they were around a hundred years old or so, okay, so maybe not that old, but you get the picture.

Smiling up at my uncles, I pressed pause on my iPhone, and pulled the other earbud from my ear. I enjoyed my Uncle Percy’s company, and my Uncle Lewys was not that bad either, especially when they were together. In all honesty, of all of my family, both extended and not, they were my favorites and the ones I got along with best. Sure, my Aunt Petra and I get along pretty well, but not as well as my uncles and me.

Do The Impossible...Make Apple Sauce!

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xxxxxxxxbitter heart my bitter heart is gettin' just a little fragile xx
xxxxxxxxxxxbitter heart ⊱⊱ bitter heart of mine

                                                    It’s not that I particularly wish to spend time with Dominic; we’ve never gotten along too well. Though I’d never admit it out loud, it could be my fault. When I was younger, I spent most family gatherings with Aunt Petra. We’d play dress up, and do girly things that she thought might bring my voice back to me. I had plenty of fun spending time with Aunt Petra. However, it meant that I grew farther apart from all of my cousins. With the five years that separated the last time we saw each other, I figure I should give Dominic another try. Besides, I was foolish and only brought three books with me, and I don’t want to finish them all on the second day. When he comments about the beach being a safer place for us to go, I just return a small nod to him.

                                                    I’m about to go looking around the house for my younger sister, when she appears by my side. She takes my hand in hers and looks up to me. Dominic brings up the beach and asks her if she wants to go with us. Bending down so that I’m closer to her eye level, I force my lips to lightly curl into a smile. “I’m going down to the beach with cousin Dominic. Do you want to come with us? We can build sandcastles and play in the water.” I tell my sister. There is a large age difference between the two of us, and sometimes I have trouble understanding what exactly she wants and what interests her. I’ve spent most of the time she’s been in the house, focusing on my studies.

                                                    When my fathers first announced that they were going to adopt another daughter, I was jealous of her. I wanted to be their one and only focus. However, when I interested high school, I realized that my time and energy would be on my classes and after school activities. It’s not that I don’t love my younger sister, but it hit me that my fathers were able to give me the attention that I needed as well as the attention she needed. It wasn’t that they were filling my space in the family; they were just rearranging life that was changing, mainly because of me.

                                                    Standing again, I begin to lead Anya towards the steps. Our things are up in our fathers’ room. “We’ll be back down shortly.” Even though Anya stayed the night downstairs with the rest of the cousins, I took her things up with us. Not that I thought someone would try to steal her belongings, but I didn’t want them to get confused with all of the other luggage people had in the lake house. Walking up the stairs with her, I begin to wonder where our fathers went after breakfast. I assume they are together, but I haven’t seen them around too much. Not that I expect Anya to know where they are, I ask her anyways. “Anya, do you know where Papa and Dad are?” as I lead her into the room where I stayed the night before.
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                                                      xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx CHILD ONE
                                                      OOC ❝ Overdue post, I know…❞
                                                      LOCATION Kitchenxxx COMPANY Alfred

                                                      xxxDownstairs felt busier than earlier this morning. It was some sort of sixth sense. Normally, I would notice if it’s rush hour and if it’s time to work. Hearing Petra’s voice from the hallway outside my room – talking about preparing lunch – the workaholic within me just kicked in and prompted I should be doing something as well. Or perhaps it was simply because of this email I just opened. The vice president was complaining about a missing project report – which was supposedly ready to be picked up from my desk, at the office. I had carefully instructed one of the trainees to prepare it two days before I even left with Roger and the kids for this reunion. What a hassle! I typed furiously, for a reply, making every keystroke count with loud clacking noises. After I hit send, I rubbed my temples and grunted, tiredly. I had already stood up and booted the laptop down, before I patted the creases on the bedcovers where I just sat at and went to the dresser.
                                                      xxxAll our bags were already unpacked. By the time we arrived here yesterday, I had organized my and Roger’s things at their proper places – the toiletries are in the bathroom; our clothes neatly refolded and placed inside the dresser; perfumes and watches on the desk; alarm clock on the nightstand; et cetera. Standing in front of the wooden drawers, I removed my night dress and replaced them with an old tie-dyed shirt and blue jeans. As I stare at myself in the mirror, I felt a little invigorated yet guilty. I somehow felt free from the bridles of formal-wear, but it was a revolution I didn’t like because I also love my job. However after that dilemma, I cleared my head, traversed down the stairs and into the kitchen.

                                                      xxxDad, you’re very welcome to help, but don’t you overdo it, okay?” I speak from behind, while expertly tying my hair into a particularly neat ponytail. Afterwards, I walk closer to my father. I slide my arm around his back and rest a hand on his shoulder, before planting a gentle kiss on his cheek. “You already have a lot of grandkids to feed, but I reckon they would understand if you’d just let us manage this.”
                                                      xxxAn endearing smile spread on my face as I moved around him. Hopefully, what I just said wouldn’t offend him like I always used to. Dad never liked it if anyone nagged about his old age and made him to just watch at the side-lines. Honestly, I can understand him. Nobody wants to feel useless, especially when there’s lot of things in this world to accomplish. Yes, everyone is born to be a winner, but there’s always a price. In order to win, we need to spend our energy for the labor. I don’t think I’m ready for my father, in his certain age, to pay that price.
                                                      xxx Proceeding to the sink to wash my hands, I shout to my dear sister, Petra, who was still probably upstairs waiting on mom to come down: “Petra… – are we roasting the chicken or what?! Should I pre-heat the oven?” I glance back and look at the dinner table, then to the pantry before adding, “I don’t think the dishes have been cleaned well. I think I’ll just do them while I wait for you to come back down here.”
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xxi see the { light } surrounding you
xxx xxx 'cause I see the light surrounding you

                                                    As happy as I am to see that my father is hungry and wanting to eat at a regular time, when he brings up that he’s going to help make lunch, I can’t wish I could stop him right then and there. It’s clear that he hates it when we talk to him about getting older and not being able to do as much as before, but I’ve begun to worry more about him. It’s probably just because I haven’t seen him in five years, and all of the signs that were small back then are screaming in my face now. “Dad, hold on a minute, wait for mother.” I try to plead with him, though he doesn’t seem to hear me. Instead he continues on to the kitchen.

                                                    There are reasons that I find it easier to spend the summer vacation with my family in our home. It’s not that I don’t love seeing my parents and siblings along with my nieces and nephews, but sometimes these little trips just cause me too much stress. I can hear my sister calling up from the kitchen. I was planning on waiting for my mother as well, but now I feel as though I should head back downstairs to stop any possible mess about to happen in the kitchen, with my children, sister, and father in there.

                                                    I make my way to the railing, and call back to my mother. “Mom, we’re going to be downstairs, if you’re hungry please come and join us.” I hope that she’s not too far behind me. Seeing as I agreed to this trip because she brought up that she hadn’t even met her youngest grandchild. Andrew being three years old hadn’t met his grandparents until this year either. When I think about the past three years that he’s been in the family, I realize that a lot can change in three years, let alone five. I try my best to keep up with the family with the internet, but it’s different from being together in person.

                                                    Making my way down to the kitchen in order to direct those preparing lunch and dinner, “Valerie, the chicken is for dinner. I just want to prepare it now, so that it would have enough time to marinade. I was thinking that we could just have some lunchmeat sandwiches for lunch. Those are easy enough to make for everyone.” I open the fridge once more, and pull out the turkey, ham, and roast beef. Placing them on the counter I search the fridge for all of the sliced cheese that we bought before coming. Feeding so many mouths, it’s easier to make something that others can choose what they want on it, and even Andrew can put together his own sandwich, I think.

                                                    I’m thinking a serve yourself lunch?” Though I hesitate as soon as I have said this. Glancing to my father, I expect him to walk over and demand that he makes everyone’s meals. “Cam, Meri, why don’t you get washed up and I can finish whatever you didn’t get done. Start making your lunches.” I tell my children, peeking over there shoulders to see just how much they were able to accomplish while I was gone.

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