My dad has had a place on Smith Lake for long enough that my first fiancée and I have been there together. I think 1990 is about right.
He built it in phases because he didn’t want to borrow any money. And it was important to him that he and Martha be able to spend the night there from the beginning. So the first phase was a dock and a boat with an enclosed cuddy. Then, he built a nice enclosed gazebo, with screened windows, locking door, and so forth, and they used that. Then, he built the bottom floor, with a full bedroom and bathroom. And finally, he built the upper two floors.
(And except for subbing things like the drywall and the roof, he really did do it himself. It’s impressive.)
Now it’s for sale. That’s just the way things have happened. Dad mostly enjoys his model trains now, and he’s added a dedicated room for that at his home in Huntsville. Children are scattered. None of us want to see the lake house go, but none of us want to live in Cullman on a maintenance-intensive property either. We all have day jobs, and though I won’t speak for others, I’ll say I still need mine.
(And hoo boy, would I ever still need it with the mortgage we’d have.)
I have many good memories there. It’s the place I was thinking of when I wrote about my dad’s grace. I have felt closest to my sister there. Charles and I had dozens of great days and nights. We never did anything but hang out and goof off, but boats and jet-skis and floating in the second-cleanest lake in the country are excellent enhancers for such. And of course, Lea and I enjoyed it many times too, at first just the two of us but later with our children.
It’s been coming for a while, so I’ve had some time to get used to the idea. Dad sold the bowrider a couple of years ago. In January I retrieved the church pew that belonged to my mother.
Want to buy it? There’s the link above. Have me over sometime.
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