Full Circle on the Lake

Another summer, another version of her...and of me

In just a few days, we’ll do what we’ve done nearly every July since she was little, pack up the car and head north to my cousin's cottage in Michigan to celebrate our daughter’s birthday.

This morning, a photo popped up in my memories: she’s maybe four, snuggled beside me on the boat, life vest zipped, cheeks still round with babyhood, talking to me like we had all the time in the world.

And back then, it felt like we did.

But now, looking at that photo on the verge of another summer road trip, I feel the years pressed into that one moment. The scent of the lake air, the feel of Michigan chilly summer day, and the way she looked at me like I had all the answers. So much has changed since that day, and so much hasn’t.

The lake has always been our seasonal anchor. A place where time slows just enough to notice how fast it's all going. Over the years, our summers there have evolved just like we have. From tubbing and Candyland to wake surfing and rummy, from bedtime snuggles to dockside cocktails, from chasing her with sunscreen to waving goodbye from the dock as she and her cousins head off for a day of lake play.

That’s the thing about these family traditions: they’re constant and ever-changing, all at once.

Every trip reminds me that motherhood isn’t a role we complete, it’s one we grow through. And while we may no longer be the center of their world, we’re still the compass they quietly carry with them.

So this year, like every year, we’ll drive north. We’ll unpack and find the worn-in rhythm of cottage days. We’ll sit on the dock, watch the water shift with the wind, and celebrate the girl who changed everything.

And I’ll whisper a silent thank you, for every version of her I’ve gotten to know, and for the version of me that’s been evolving right alongside.