Dear Future Self, 

Did we get out as we’ve planned for years? Are we living the dream in a warm state down south with the people we love? Some might say it was impressive how we managed to put up with all four seasons in one week. We may not have enjoyed the winters, but no one can beat a Wisconsin summer. 

Do you remember not sleeping in your own bed for a whole three weeks? The summer before our junior year of high school, do you remember enjoying the sun at that lacrosse camp? Then driving for two and half hours, all crisped from sunburn to the lake house in Wautoma? Do you remember that place always brought happiness, with the same routine every year that doesn’t disappoint: the constant swimming, KRB’s barbeque Wednesdays, then closing out the week with Friday fish fry from the Moose Inn?

Do you remember the house on Hills Lake that served any family and friends a break from home? Do you remember the awkward corner sink in the kitchen, the fights for the best bedroom, and the paddle board races all made up for the best week during the summer?  

Do you remember the night drive “deer hunts”? Do you remember hoping Dad would drive through the giant sprinklers so the water sprayed us like we were at the water park? The saturated orange, the pink clouds, and the daring purples of the sunsets were unforgettable. These were sights that would make you regret living in the city. 

Writing this, I’m hoping we never moved into a city, as we found so much peace here in America’s Dairyland. Going back and forth between Culver’s and Kwik Trip when you never knew what to do on a weekend. You made Wisconsin your home and home is where the heart always is. 

Do you remember waking up early in the August air, the smell of pancakes coming off the courtyard in the middle of the cabins? You were always the first in line to grab the fresh stack of pancakes. You layered them in so much syrup the bacon drowned. 

Do you remember watching Grandpa and the uncles spread applesauce across the top of each blueberry pancake? (Do we still not like blueberry pancakes?) The kids all commented in disgust on why they would disrespect such a good pancake with applesauce. As Grandpa explained, “It’s our best-kept secret.” We can’t forget the constant questioning about boyfriends, school, sports, Mom, etc. As much as we hated the repeat of the questions every other year, it was nice to hear the laughter at our sarcastic responses. Hopefully, wherever we ended up, you’re reading this and remember that you always looked forward to Wisconsin summer. 

Sincerely, 

Past Self