Once a year, I willingly spend one week stranded on an island with my entire family. No phone. No Internet. No electricity. No running water. Just me, my husband, our daughter, my in-laws, and for a few days, my mom and sister join too. Yes, it sounds completely insane, and maybe it is, but this week in isolation with the people I love gives me a rare chance to take a breath and actually experience the life I work so hard for.
Nestled in the heart of Lake George in Upstate New York, Fork Island is like an oasis. Jimi’s family has been camping there for generations. My in-laws prep flawlessly, toting burners, and tents, and zero gravity chairs all the way from their home in New Jersey. It makes our tiny slice of heaven feel like an extension of home. Our days are simple in the most wonderful way. We wake with the sun, feed ducks while we eat pound cake and drink coffee. Then we settle into our seats at the picnic table for a huge breakfast of bacon, eggs, pancakes, and potatoes. We then swim, fish and talk the day away. We relish in the fact that we’re all able to be together for such a long stretch and spend hours talking about everything and nothing all at once, and sometimes someone peels off from the group to nap or read alone. We then head out on the boat to fish as the sun sets, and return to our seats at the picnic table for a candlelit dinner. We then retire around the fire, sleepy-eyed and tipsy on happiness to eat s’mores and laugh. No frills, no distractions, just us being us and focusing on that.