Return to Brantingham - Continued Part 2

Click image to enlarge

Today was another amazing day at the lake and I am so very happy that we made the arduous drive - although, I think next time we will try to fly and rent a car - which has allowed me to reconnect with much of my family history on my mother's side.  We took the "Class of 1941" (pictured above) out again today, lazed on the beach and on the dock in the sun and visited some with cousins who now co-own the camp next door.  My brother arrives shortly and the three of of us and four cousins will have dinner once my brother gets here - the husband, a/k/a Martha Stewart is doing the cooking. 

The views below are scenes of the ever change lake today.  It is truly heaven here.

Early morning

Mid morning view

Afternoon view

To give a sense of the length of time my family has been coming to Brantingham Lake, below is a photo from 1919 of my great grandparents, grandfather, and an uncle and aunts from my grandfather's generation.  Consensus is that the photo was taken at a no longer existing inn just up the road from our camp.

I plan on trying to take photos of other even older photos here at the camp.  One more photo: me feeding the ducks who decided to join us as we had drinks on the beach last evening.  

Return to Brantingham - Continued

The husband and I had a wonderful day today as we revisited my family's past and he got to meet some of my more distant cousins.  First we went in to Lowville - about 17 miles away from the lake house - where my maternal grandparents lived after moving from Central America. The husband  got to see my grandparent's former home pictured below (which my grandfather had bought for his parents around 1920), the family cemetery plot with my grand parents and great grand parents graves, and a farmer's market at the county fair grounds where we bought luscious looking preserves from a delightful Mennonite woman.  

Once we got back to the camp, we took out the "Class of 41" - my brother's 1941 Chris Craft (pictured above) which is the main photo on this blog - and we circled the lake a number of times stopping to wave and talk to friends from long ago.     We finished the afternoon with wine and munchies sitting in Adirondack chairs looking across the ever changing scenery of the lake.  Tonight I am taking him to dinner to a restaurant that has been here for at least 50 years.

The husband at the wheel

A windblown me in the rear seat

My brother joins us tomorrow and the fun and making of new memories will continue.  More posts tonight if we don't treat ourselves to too many cocktails. :)

Return to Brantingham Lake - 42 Years Later

Lake after sunset

This weekend is turning out to be a wonderful and also emotional weekend.  I am back at the family summer "camp" on Brantingham Lake in the Adirondack Mountains of northern New York State for the first time in 42 years.  It is my husband's first visit.  It's a long story as to why I haven't been back, but better late then never sums up the situation.  My maternal grandparents purchased the camp in 1938 but the family connection goes back far longer.  There are photos of my great grand parents here at the lake in 1896 and subsequent years.  Among the many photos are those of my late mother during her last visit to Brantingham in the summer of 2010.   So, so many memories.  Above is a photo of the lake just after sunset last night and below is a photo of the house and views of the lake early this morning.  

In my June 2015 VEER Magazine I wrote in part about growing up gay and here's the portion that looked at the role this place played in my life:

If the school year was a nightmare, summers were what likely saved me and helped me survive my teen years.  Through my mother's  family, we had a summer home on Brantingham Lake in the western Adirondack Mountains in northern New York State.  As my siblings and I got older, we spent large parts of the summer at the "camp" as such summer homes are called in local parlance.  And this allowed me an opportunity to reinvent myself, if you will.  While I truly sucked at school team sports, I excelled at slalom water skiing, sailing, canoeing and swimming.  I could compete and hold my own.  In addition, at camp, we had a whole different circle of friends, most of whom were from other parts of New York or surrounding states and were far more sophisticated than my school year friends.   Yes, I still struggled to "pray away the gay" and convince myself that I wasn't really attracted to some of my male friends.  And , yes, the mental gymnastics to deny the truth about my sexual orientation continued at Olympic proportions.  But these summers allowed me to finally feel somewhat good about myself.   As one friend from those years with whom I have reconnected through the magic of Facebook wrote in a post "the memories of the lake, the times in the boats at night, skiing in the mornings at 6am so as to be the only boat on the lake..... these are the memories that never leave me and are the ones I use to help me get to sleep at night."  They were the summer time experiences that helped me survive growing up gay.

There have been changes in the place over the years - most notably the loss of a number of huge pine trees felled in a severe "mircobust thunder storm some years back that wreaked havoc on the area - but other aspects have not changed at all.  

Camp in the fading sunset

Early morning view - mist over the lake

Early morning - mist over the water

Rainbow Colors in the Adirondacks

The rainbow flag and HRC flag flying neat to the boathouse at the lake house in the Adirondacks this past weekend.  The husband and I will be visiting the lake house in August.

Magic Summer Memories From Long Ago

Long time readers who followed my coming out story from the get go on this blog know what a crucial role summers at the family summer home on Brantingham Lake in the Adirondack Mountains of New York State  played in my life.  Excelling at water skiing, sailing and swimming I wasn't the nerdy kid who got called fag and other epithets from time during the school year where I often found myself among the last to be picked for teams in PE class.  Of equal importance was the fact that my summer friends were pretty amazing and outclassed my school year tormentors by light years.  Those summers literally saved me from suicide as a teenager.  Recently, one of the old summer gang who I have not seen or been in contact in decades posted a message on the Facebook page dedicated to the lake that summed up those summers well:

You all need to understand how lucky you are to live, have lived, or spent a summer on beautiful lake Brantingham. My next birthday will be my 59th, and my last summer on the lake was nearly 41 years ago. I feel compelled to write this note and to share with you the memories of the lake, the times in the boats at night, skiing in the mornings at 6am so as to be the only boat on the lake..... these are the memories that never leave me and are the ones I use to help me get to sleep at night. ........ What's strange is the Brantingham summer memories are of only 10 summers spent on Brantingham.....and the other 48 of my summers are spent elsewhere......none compare to those memories at the lake! 

He goes on to say that his best friends were those who comprised our group of friends who lived in cities scattered across New York State and in some cases New Jersey.  In response to his message I scanned a composite of some old pictures from circa 1968 -1970 that is set out above (yours truly is at  lower left in blue).  Many of the group still have homes on the lake that have been passed down through families as has ours other than for one interlude.  I haven't been back in many years and have vowed to change that this coming summer fate willing.  As for the group of friends, thanks to Facebook many of us are once again in contact with each other and are again reliving in our memories those special, and in my case life saving, summers.  I do count myself lucky for having been fortunate enough to have those summer experiences and now such wonderful memories.

The Strange Power of Dreams and Memories Past

View from our beach

Some of the earliest readers of this blog may recall that during my often less than happy youth as a closeted gay teenager one of the bright shining stars of my existence was summers spent at the family home in the Adirondack Mountains or "camp" as local parlance calls such homes.  It was a place where I could escape the sometimes "faggot" designation at school where I hated baseball, basket ball and football which were prerequisites to being "normal."  At the lake house, I excelled in water skiing, swimming, sailing, boating.  Best of all, I was able to recreate myself as something different.    I haven't been back in many years partly because it's a long 14 hour car trip from Hampton Roads, Virginia, and because other things always seem to come up.   It is definitely a place I want to visit again before I die.

All of that said, life at camp wasn't perfect.  After all, I was a gay boy trying to convince myself and everyone else that I wasn't a horrible homosexual - the term gay wasn't used in our parts until later.   As a result, there were the pains of unspoken and unrequited love and living one's life like an actor on a stage.  But in relative terms I felt safe because I could do all of the things the cool guys did.  Something so unlike at home during the school year.   Not that summers were all play and no work.  With a very short summer season, all of the year's maintenance needed to be done in the summer.  Hence, each week my dad left my sisters and I (we were chaperoned by my mother's elderly aunt and uncle) with a detailed list of assigned work: painting, foundation work on the boat house, and on and on.

The main house

What made me think of all of this was a dream I had last night that was so vivid that I could feel myself zig zagging across the boat wake on a slalom ski and carving back and forth throwing up a wall of spray as we always tried to do - one wanted to be visible all the way across the lake.  Likewise, I could smell the pine and hemlock scent in the air and even feel the water of the lake on my body.  It was so intense and so weird.  I'm not sure what prompted it other than my birthday was a little over a week ago and growing up, I always spent my birthday at the lake.

Two of my sisters - including my late sister - and a friend circa 1969

Much has changed in my life - some for the good and some not - but a part of my heart will always be at the summer camp.  Indeed, I want a portion of my ashes scattered there after I die. I do hope I get to visit again and that last night's dream wasn't my last visit.

One of my one time best friends who I've lost contact with

Memories of Summers Past

As early readers of this blog know, growing up my family had a summer home on Brantingham Lake in the Adirondack Mountains in upstate New York.   While the home is again owned within the family (other than an interlude in the the mid 1970's and 1980's, it's been in the family since 1938), I have not been back in many, many years for numerous reasons, not the least of which is that I don't want magic memories lessened by a current reality.  It was a period when I as a closeted gay teen boy could feel almost normal and excel in sailing, canoeing and slalom water skiing.  The rest of the year outside of snow skiing was far less happy.  A group on Facebook posted the image above which is a postcard view from about the time period that I enjoyed those wonderful summers - and experienced unspoken crushes.  I truly don't think I'd have survived but for the lake house and my summer friends.

Christmas Eve Thoughts

It's not exactly Christmas like weather here in Hampton Roads (upper 50's). To be more in the winter time mood I posted a photo taken today at the lake -which has frozen over - where our summer house is in the Adirondacks. The law office closed Thursday evening and will reopen Tuesday morning. Not that it hasn't been hectic. We worked most of yesterday preparing for a family brunch today and an open house at our home on Christmas Day. Then we visited friends in Yorktown, then visited my 96 year old aunt in Virginia Beach before attending a holiday party hosted by friends in Ghent in Norfolk (I was "over served" in the course of the festivities. Today has been a whirlwind so far with the boyfriend and I hosting the brunch for his extended family and one of my daughters and her boyfriend. It was great seeing my daughter!

Next we are headed back to Virginia Beach for dinner with one of the boyfriend's long time clients and her family. After that, it will either be going to church or going to a favorite club that's open tonight. In some ways I think I'd have a more spiritual experience dancing at the club. We'll see.

Christmas Day, we are hosting an open house and should have a number of friends stopping by who either don't have family in the area or who may be looking for a break from family gatherings. On Monday, both my daughters and their boyfriends will be coming over and staying for dinner.

As the narrative above demonstrates, my holidays have improved immensely since the ones I experienced when I first came out. Those first couple of Christmas seasons were among the worse ones of my life. Thankfully, I failed in my suicide attempts and I'm around to enjoy the vastly better circumstances with which I am now blessed. My message to others making the coming out journey is that it does get better even if not at the pace we'd like. It's so very important to hang on to that truth even in the darkest hours. As alone as you may feel, it will not last forever. I'm living proof.

Picture of Another Adirondack Memory

Morning mist over the lake. Click image to enlarge.

Brantingham Lake Memories

Fall morning stillness - our white boathouse is seen at far right across the lake. The water has been lowered to avoid winter ice damage. Click to enlarge image.

Waiting For My Mother's Impending Death

As I mentioned in a post last week, my mother's health has been deteriorating rapidly after battling cancer for over 14 years. She moved to a hospice in Charlottesville earlier in the week and has taken a dramatic turn for the worse. Last night we children all received a call at 3:15 AM that things were looking grim. We don't know at this point whether she will make it through the day or not. Blogging will be spotty at best. I am putting up this post since I know that some long time readers will be on the verge of checking on me. I thank them in advance for the loyalty and concern. The photo above is from the beach at our summer home in the Adirondacks which fortunately my mother got to see one last time this past summer. It is one of her favorite places in the world.

Adirondack Beauty

A summer sunset over Brantingham Lake in New York's Adirondack Mountains were I spent many of my summers growing up. Although I have not been back in many years, the summer home remains in the family.

Adirondack Summer

As long time readers likely know, I spent many summers in my youth at our family summer home in the Adirondack Mountains in New York State. Those summers were magical times. I have not visited the lake house in years due to scheduling and other issues. Some family members were up recently and took these - and many other - photos. The view above is sailing on Brantingham Lake. The photo below is a place we used to fish and slide down the smooth water worn rapids.
Otter Creek, Lewis County, New York

More Brantingham Lake Photos

Summer versus winter!! Very different. The shoreline to the left in each photo is Long Point, which divides the lake almost about 1/2 way across - the largest part of the lake is on the other side of the point from where our house. These shots are of the left portion shown in the wider photo I posted earlier.

Saturday Evening Thoughts

I am safely arrived in Charlottesville after an uneventful drive with incredibly no delays on the Interstate. Surprisingly, there is still not that much color in the leaves since the month of October was warmer than usually. Much to my surprise, UVA managed to beat Wake Forest in the home football game today, which must have been great: perfect weather and UVA pulling it out. Meanwhile the Montepelier Races were held today at Montpelier, home of James Madison. I did not go, but my sister said it was gorgeous. The races - which include steeplechase and flat track events - were started many decades ago by Marion DuPont Scott, who was an heir to the DuPont fortune and also married to classic era film star Randolph Scott. I understand that some of the local vineyards, including Barboursville (my favorite) had displays at the races.

Before driving up, I went by the doctor's office and was put on a steroid that will hopefully rid me of my itching and the hive like welts. At this point, all test indicate that I do not have the serious blood disease first suspected. Rather, it is thought to be some allergic reaction combined with extreme stress: (1) the divorce war - more hearings are set for next Friday morning, including on my motion to set aside the interim property settlement opinion due to the judge's anti-gay bias - and (2) worry about the firm cash flow with the residential real estate business near dead except for investor clients. In short, I guess I will be blogging for a while longer.

On the way up, I spoke with my oldest daughter for the the first time in many months (I wanted to tell her the further medical news) and it was very friendly and, needless to say, I am VERY happy. I will be seeing my younger daughter tomorrow when I pass through Richmond on the way back to Norfolk. I do not think either of them know how much talking to them lights up my day.

I will post more later tonight after my mom goes to bed. For now, I wanted to post the above thoughts and also to display the photo set out above. It is a view looking across the lake from our family summer home on Brantingham Lake in the Adirondack Mountains in Northern New York State. Those who have read early posts about me growing up know how much the summer house and my summer friends meant to me. It was one place I excelled in water sports - slalom water skiing, swimming and sailing - and did not get mocked for being a non-athlete in football, etc. My brother was up at the camp - the local terminology - in October and took some great photos that he downloaded to my mom's computer. (When my lap top died a few months ago, I lost hundreds of photos that had not been backed up to another hard drive).

Back to My Coming Out Story

Sorry that I have not posted in such a long time. Many things have happened in the interim. Per my last post, I wanted to begin to talk about my coming out story. Before doing so, I first want to briefly describe my growing up. Like many gays, in my heart of hearts, I guess I always knew I was different from most of my male friends growing up. At first, I did not precisely know, nor was I able to explain in what way I was different. Only when I entered junior high school did I begin to realize that all of my emotional crushes and attractions involved other boys. Growing up in a conservative area of the country – central New York State – and coming from a weekly church attending Catholic family, this realization was something horrifying and that could not be admitted to anyone, including myself. While the Catholic Church may not be able to protect children and teenagers from pedophile priests, it did a terrific job in instilling fear and self-hatred in me as a young gay (not that I would EVER have called myself that at the time).

Therefore, I did what so many gays have done before me – I continued to try to be what everyone expected me to be. I was an altar boy for ten years (often serving daily mass and every Holy Week service), a serious student who was considered one of the “smart kids.” While I remained closeted, I lived in terror that “my secret” might be discovered by classmates and/or family and I lived my life almost as an actor trying to never stray from the expected script. Thus, I tried to be an athlete – wrestling intramurals, JV football team, tennis team, and eventually cross country. The first two were disasters and I hated both sports. Cross country was acceptable and I felt I was half way decent at it. Plus, it was a great way to get in shape for snow skiing, one of my true loves. Moreover, I excelled at skiing (and water skiing which will be discussed later), which in my small high school actually gave me some much longed for status among my peers. I might not be among the first picked in PE for a team, but I could out ski just about any boy in my high school and even helped some of the “jocks” learn to ski at the nearest ski resort some fourteen miles from my home, where my family had seasons passes for many years and belonged to a private club with its own private lift line. Of course, at times in this process I felt faint (especially riding up the lift sitting close side by side) if the jock receiving coaching assistance was one of the objects of my huge same sex crushes.

This success in a sport helped begin what I considered my three phases of my life: home and school, my skiing world, and my summer world at our summer home in the Adirondack Mountains. I will describe my summer life soon. A view of the lake from the air taken around the time I was a teenager is set out above.