I realized one night while trying to stay awake hoping Dalia would fall asleep that even though this blog is called "all about Dalia", it is really more about my experiences of her and with her. I hope some day she will tell her story using her own words and perspective.
Dalia and I ventured to Bob's Cabins on the shore of Lake Superior, MN, on June 17th. My family takes an annual trip to Bob's over Grandma's Marathon weekend every year. It was paradise. Bob's has 13 simple cabins spread out over the rocky shoreline on this Great Lake. On the North Shore, the air has its own rich clean piney smell, the light takes hues unlike anywhere else. From our cabin perched right above the shoreline, through our wide windows, we could hear the waves on the rocks and the loons at night.
We flew from Burlington to Newark, missing our connection as the plane left late, and when we were finally about to land, wheels down, suddenly the plane looped back up into the sky. Wind shear. So, we circled Newark while I said goodbye to arriving on time. Fortunately, we were put on a later connection, but it meant 2 hours to kill in the busy Newark A terminal... with a very well-rested and wound-up Dalia! We plopped our backpack and stroller down in the wide hallway for people exiting and entering from security to other terminals, under a huge Eagle. Dalia quickly learned the word "eagle" and said it over and over, while pointing to the eagle's eye. We made friends with an adorable 18-month old boy who was on his way to Omaha We chased each other around, I pulled Dalia out from the middle of the hallway. I pulled up my jeans, again. Put my hair back in the ponytail.
We made it to Minneapolis, went to pick up the rental car. Mama is exhausted at this point, pushing the cart with the luggage, and Dalia on top. We get to the car, a Nissan cube, 90 degrees out. Ahhh, Minnesota air, Minnesota humidity. I look in the back seat and the car seat is there, shiny new, but not attached. Since I had never put a car seat in before (Tal does this), I panicked. I did the best I could, but am thankful now that I didn't ever stop abrubtly as Dalia may have gone flying! Bad Mom. Thirty minutes later. stuck in downtown ST. Paul rush hour, her bottle falls, "goggle? goggle?" then I hear the back door open and see Dalia's foot playing with the door handle. AH! I pulled over, put the blinkers on, shut the door, tightened the seat, and turned on the door lock.
Thankfully, Dalia was her usual easy-going self for the rest of the 3 1/2 hour drive up to Two Harbors. We had a good time, singing, talking, Dalia playing with the plastic animals that GinGin had given her.
The weekend was beautiful. Dalia met all of my family, learned everyone's name -- quickly. Cousin Vivian, friend Lizzy, and Cousin Sela were all on hand to be Dalia's big sisters; Grandma Patty "Grahmma" was there to reunite with her honey, Aunt San, Lizann, Susan "Soo Sah", Uncle Adam "Adah", cousin Peter, Ned, Tom and Sally Patterson were all there to watch, play and love on Dalia.
The lake is between 35-40 degrees in the summer. Many of us jumped in -- an annual tradition -- off the sacred rock. Dalia was not affected by the cold. She waded into the water, stood there, sat in the water, played with rocks, oblivious to the temperature. She just wanted to be in the water.
The first day, she pointed to the bottom of Susan's shoes, and said, "heart." Sure enough, there was a big red heart imprinted on the sole. The next day, while walking, she looked at the bottom of her own shoes and said, "heart." Another day, Sela's blue Keens were sitting outside. Dalia pointed to the shoes and said, "Sela." A little dog named Sweetie Pie who lives at the property ran over to Dalia one day and ran on top of her and over her many times. Dalia was understandably a little scared - and cried. Five minutes later, she said, "Puppy, puppy." She decided it was time to go see the dog again and face her down. Brave girl.
Grandma Patty finished the half with a very strong time -- with many of us cheering her on. Congrats, Mom!
Sunday was Father's Day. I was missing Grandpa Don so much. This was the first year being at Bob's without him alive. I felt him there, and will always. I felt the strong Dad, the Dad that ran so many Grandma's marathons, seeing him on London Road and at the finish, with his group of running ladies, "Don's Dollies" surrounding him. The Dad I knew before the dementia and Parkinsonism. I remembered my Dad in the later days, too, sleeping, calmly eating his yogurt, swinging the wiffle ball bat and falling like a tall tree, only to say, "TFO" ("too f*&#ing old"), and was grateful for ALL of the years he was with us.
We went back to Patty's on Monday (I was sad to leave). Tuesday evening, we had the unveiling of my Dad's graveside marker and the marble bench with "Wolkoff" engraved on it. So many friends and family came out. Dalia was oddly quiet throughout. I felt similarly removed, a little numb. So hard to go back to that spot where many tears fell, but so important to do so. Afterwards, we all went out to my Mom's for dinner and conversation.
Everyone there had in some way gone through the long wait for little Dalia Ruth along with us. And now to be able to introduce her to these core people in my life, people who were so close to my Dad -- for whom she is named -- and who are points of strength for my Mom, felt so natural and whole to me.
The trip wouldn't have been complete without swimming in the Willow River... with Dalia. I carried her over to the shallow sandy side where we walked against the current, and with the current. We walked with the fish, past the crawfish and river clams. Such a joy to be there. Perhaps my most blissful moments with Dalia were on the last day up at Bob's Cabins. We woke up early, and Dalia said, "lake, lake!" We went down the lake, she played in the freezing water, then came back to me, and sat on my lap, on the rocks, without moving. We both just sat there together, looking out at the lake, with Dalia in my arms.
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