Cabin Fever
June 10, 2018
My husband’s family has been members of an outing club in northeastern Oklahoma since the 1940s. As a result, my husband and his siblings spent memorable summers at the family cabin, swimming and floating in the river, hiking, etc. My husband’s immediate family and his aunt, uncle and cousins shared the cabin. It sounds chaotic to me, but my sister-in-law has many fond memories of being at the cabin with her siblings and cousins.
Many of the members of the outing club have known my husband’s family for years. They are some of my sister-in-law’s closet friends. They grieved with her and supported her when my nephew, Evan, died. They celebrated with her when my nephew, Grayson, wed at the outing club, in a beautiful ceremony overlooking the river. The members are considerate and fun.
When I was dating my husband and after we married, he was anxious for us to spend time at the cabin with his family. While his siblings and cousins lived within an hour of the cabin, my husband and I have always lived more than 2 hours from the outing club. Most of the family has been able to spend several days every month in the summer at the cabin, but because of geography and my job, we were usually only able to get there once during the summer; mostly on Labor Day.
I don’t have the same childhood memories of the cabin that my husband does. My memories start as a young wife, trying to fit in with the “Wauhillau Rules.”
Meals are communal at the clubhouse dining room and served at the same time every day. Even before I became a vegetarian, I was a finicky eater, and rarely did meals include something I wanted to eat.
Everyone has to go to breakfast. There was a time when my internal alarm clock did not go off until 10 or 11 a.m., so having to get up, dress, and go to the clubhouse for breakfast at 8 a.m. was not fun. Possibly recognizing that not everyone is a “morning person,” the club voted to rescind the requirement that everyone must eat breakfast at the clubhouse.
You have to take a nap after lunch before you can go to the river. I loathe naps. Wait, let me rephrase that – I LOATHE NAPS.
In addition to the "unofficial family rules," there were always other family members at the cabin, hence, there was no privacy. The family cabin only had one private bedroom; the other beds were on the screened porch. So, you had to go to bed when others went to bed, share the space with them, and wake up when everyone gathered on the porch the following morning. It's not that I don't love my in-laws; I do. I just prefer some downtime alone. Additionally, a trip to the cabin on the weekend always meant spending time packing bed linens, towels, etc., in addition to clothes, then spending several hours doing the weekend laundry once we returned before having to get up early to go to work the next morning. For me, it was never relaxing. It was stressful.
Yet, I always felt guilty and responsible because we didn’t spend more time there because I knew how much my husband loved it.
Then, following Labor Day 2013, my husband got a call from his uncle. His aunt and uncle had inherited another cabin from a club member who had died many years earlier. That cabin was smaller than the family cabin, but one that I had always preferred. By then, one of my husband’s brothers and his wife had built their own cabin, as had his sister. After building her own cabin, my sister-in-law, Cindy, was extremely generous in sharing her cabin with us, as well as others.
My husband’s uncle called to say he wanted to give their smaller cabin to us. By that time, Gary’s aunt and uncle were older and weren’t able to navigate the rocky, wooded area surrounding the outing club anymore. They had discussed it with their children and grandchildren, and none of them expressed an interest in the cabin.
That telephone call changed my perspective. It meant we would have a space of our own, and I could spend time with my husband at a place he loved.
For the past 5 years, I have “Shelli-ized” the cabin, as my husband says. Even though I now live in Dallas, 4 ½ hours from the cabin, I’m more willing to make the 9 hour round trip, because we have our own space – a space that I can decorate without having to get permission from anyone else. I can take a friend there without having to schedule around anyone else’s schedule. A few weeks ago, my friend Mendy and I spent the weekend there, just laughing and talking.
Last weekend, I went to the cabin by myself. I arrived at 9 p.m. on Friday evening after a long week at work. I poured a glass of wine and sat on the screened porch listening to the rain and feeling the cool breeze. I looked around at the space we’ve created and smiled.
I like the memories that are being established. They are mine. I can’t recreate my husband’s memories and make them my future memories. I won’t insist that my daughter share this space or these memories. She’ll find her own memories, and they may or may not be at the cabin. For now, I’m going to be satisfied with a few respite trips to a small rustic cabin in northeastern Oklahoma where I can actually relax.
Thank you, Lee and Mary.
