The Lake House
My grandfather passed away in 2001, the day before our collective world shifted with the crash of 4 planes in New York, DC and Pennsylvania.
He lived next door to me as I was growing up and I can't think of my childhood without thinking of him. We spent many hours sitting lakeside watching the waves roll in and the leaves flicker overhead. Chatting. Observing. Quietly sharing in the delight of this place.
As the years pass, his home, which has been in my family since 1921, has slowly deteriorated. It breaks my heart to see its demise and frustrates me that I don't have the resources to rescue it.
What I can do is collect the stories of my family and the memories of love and loss that are wrapped up in this place.
This project is a work in progress.