When I think of the magic of my childhood, two places readily come to mind; Inks Lake State Park and The Medina River. My sister and I spent weeks at a time every summer with my grandparents in Kerrville, Tx. Now, I know most of you would wince with an eye of scepticism if I told you that magic lived there, but trust me, it does. As a child, I knew enchantment could be found in a tent that my grandfather would put up for me in their backyard. It was my own space and I loved being there. The possibilities were endless when that tent was up, and I could decide which mysterious land I lived in each time I opened the front flap. Few things would entice me to leave that tent, hunger was one, although brief, motivator, but a day at Medina River was something I waited on all year long and was the most magical place of all.
It took me twenty years to go back. I can’t say why. It’s funny, the things that have kept me from the most memorable moments are things that now, I can’t recall.
Scott and I packed up food for a day and took both of the girls up the switchback mountain from Kerrville to where I hoped we would find the same spot my grandparents took my sister and me when we were kids. I wasn’t sure what I would find after 20 years, but I was relieved to find Medina River to be much the same. That day, I found a long lost friend. The magic is still there.
There are times still that I miss my grandparents so much that I ache. My throat tightens up and I wish more than anything that I could hug them, or talk to them. I didn’t feel that longing for them that day at the river like I thought I would. Maybe it’s because I knew they were there, and they were smiling.