The Golden Summer: A Memoir

I did not become good friends with my cousin Tyler until I was fourteen years old. He had always been that older cousin, the one who went on a mission to the boonies of Russia, the oldest child of my mother’s older sister. I had never ventured to be friends with him—after all, I could be content with the friendship with my two cousins who were three years younger than me. It was not until a lazy adventure in the haze of summer that I could call Tyler my friend, but I still regard that particular vacation as one of my favorites.

The year was 2009 and I had just finished middle school. Looking back, I realize how immature I was, but that is nigh impossible to avoid in adolescent boys. It was an innocent summer, full of friends and family and reading books I didn’t like for the upcoming freshman year. I don’t remember being too nervous for high school, but maybe that means I was only scared on the first day. But that was the end of summer, something I wasn’t thinking very hard about while on vacation. Every other year my one of the four siblings on my mom’s side plans a family reunion, taking place at a location of their choosing. We have gone from whale watching in the Puget Sound to enjoying the fantastic pleasures of Disneyland to wandering the expansive and beautiful Yellowstone National Park. That particular year, it was my family’s turn, and my parents decided to convene at Lake Roosevelt, a man-made lake, a direct result of the massive Grand Coulee Dam.

Altogether, we amounted to the staggering number of eighteen family members staying together. We occupied a quaint and perfectly-sized home in the middle of nowhere, neighbored by no one. The lake was a conveniently short drive from the house, a drive that led us to a small beach of our own to put the boat we planned to use for recreation. Boating was one of the activities I was most excited for. Two years earlier we had our reunion at Bear Lake and planned to do a considerable amount of boating, but on the first day we went out a huge storm swept across the lake, cutting short our plans and putting my father’s life in danger as he took the boat back to the dock. Needless to say, going out on the boat was probably on the forefront of many of our minds.

The weather was hot, the days clear, and the summer was for our taking. Behind the house was a pool, the perfect distraction for the younger of the cousins. I joined in the many aquatic escapades, though I also found out one day how enjoyable it was to do absolutely nothing. From the pool deck one could look out on the beautiful lake valley, stretching out before us without the taint of human development. I found myself lounging on a pool chair one night, staring over the majesty of the valley, completely content. I believe this to be a turning point in my understanding of enjoying myself, as unlike my younger cousins who needed to always be doing something, I could simply drink in the daylight and lose myself in the prospect of having no responsibilities.

Nature’s wonders unfolded before me that particular summer. On the Monday after we arrived, the sky darkened and an electric storm burst forth. I had never seen such an impressive display of natural violence, and I found myself enraptured as I gazed upon the streaks of raw electrical power that split the sky. I was the last member of the entire group to retreat inside, preferring to soak in the torrential downpour than to give up the front row seat to the spectacle before me. I eventually joined my family inside, having to battle strong winds as I trudged up the slight hill to the house; I was completely wet but completely satisfied.

That was the only occurrence of bad weather we faced during the vacation, thankfully. The rest of our days were spent enjoying the bright sunshine. We skipped over the water on an inner tube, holding on for dear life. We laughed together as we performed skits, a tradition that has been upheld on multiple reunions. We explored the Grand Coulee dam, afterwards watching a laser show on the dam itself. And while it seems like we all were enjoying the vacation as a cohesive unit, we managed to be individual in our experiences. One of my older cousins, David, was applying to BYU, something I have recently ventured to do. I was transitioning to high school. My dad was pranked by an uncle and accidently ate blue cheese dressing (something that everyone in the family either loves or hates). I am sure that if each one of the partakers of this experience were to be interviewed, each would describe the trip as something different. However, I do believe that we all enjoyed the time together.

The adventure that led to my friendship with my cousin Tyler happened because my uncle Gary had decided to bring an inflatable raft with him (if I am correct, it was for him and his son to go fishing). I do not remember why or what the circumstances regarding the other family members were, but for some reason Tyler and I decided to explore a small nook nearby our private beach. This nook was a pond-like area connected the greater lake. It was dominated by a pleasant summer haze, calm, with insects buzzing and trees hanging over the water. Someone who had been there before had attached a rope swing to one of the trees. At one point, Tyler and I sat on a fallen tree, our feet dangling in the water. I don’t remember how long we were out there nor what we talked about, but I do remember that we both enjoyed each other’s company. I had made a lifelong friend.

While this vacation only last a little over a week, I consider it to be one of my favorite trips to this day, if not one of the best weeks of my life. It served as a sort of transitional adventure for me, where I matured and began my journey to finding myself. It was the golden summer, a direct parallel to the trials I would be facing in a few short years as my scholarly ability crashed down around me. I hadn’t a care in the world; I would relive that week in a heartbeat. I believe it was the last night where some of my cousins and I slept in our sleeping bags out by the pool. As we gazed upon the infinite expanse of stars above us, we discussed the universe. And as I slipped into the world of dreams, I was happy.