I have many wonderful memories of childhood, but none that quite compare with my family’s summer visits to Lake Tahoe. I believe that the family tradition began not with my parents but with my grandparents. They used to take my mother and her sisters to Lake Tahoe for one month in the summer and for two weeks at Christmastime.
My first memories of summers at Lake Tahoe are refreshed by the albums of photos my mother made for each of us kids. In the albums, I am wandering around by the shore of Lake Tahoe in cute little bathing suits. My siblings and I are busy making sand castles and trying to skip rocks. I have nothing but fondness for those summers at Lake Tahoe. It was the only time of the year that my dad took off from work just to be with the family. All day he played anything we wanted to play. When the sun was going down he would grill any kind of meat that we wanted. We would eat out by the edge of the water as the sun set over Lake Tahoe.
We continued to go to Lake Tahoe all the way through my high school years. Two years I was convincing enough that my parents allowed me to bring a friend on our family vacation. I loved it at the time, but looking back I regret having brought a friend into our special family time. I realize now, after the death of both of my parents, how sacred and special family time really is. Our Lake Tahoe vacations should have been kept just for us. So now, when one of my own four children beg us to allow a friend to come on our summer vacations to Lake Tahoe, we quickly say no. We try to teach our own children the sacred value of family time.