The Post I Keep Trying to Write (From Lake Livingston)

William discovered the hammock. The hammock did not know what it was in for.

I thought I would finally have time to write.

Wednesday Evening (Arrival)

There’s always a kind of honeymoon phase when you arrive at a vacation house—when you tumble out of the minivan after a several-hour drive and step into a home you never saw before. That first early evening when everything feels new and full of possibility. The kitchen is clean and modern, the view is even better than the pictures, and everyone is just… happy to be there.

Our home for the week — a treehouse tucked into the pines at Lake Livingston.

The boys discovered the loft within seconds. And by “discovered,” I mean William had already sent his slinky cascading down the stairs, step by step, while Jamie and Michael watched from the top like spectators at a sporting event.

Jamie and William, presiding over the living room from the loft like tiny kings.

“Again! Do it again!”

So he did. Again. And again.

Meanwhile, Erjon was quietly surveying the kitchen when he noticed something.

“There’s no real coffee machine.”

Just a Keurig.

With three capsules.

Three.

For four adults.

I stared at it. I don’t want a machine telling me how much coffee I get to have. I want to fill my entire travel tumbler—the tall insulated kind that keeps coffee hot for hours—and carry it around like a lifeline. A Keurig gives you one sad cup and then asks if you’d like another pod. No. I would not like another pod. I would like a full pot and the freedom to make my own choices.

We all looked at each other. Nena, thankfully, had brought her Nescafé. Crisis averted. For now.

The owner had mentioned earlier that the lights along the path to the pier weren’t working, but the evenings are long this time of year, and the light lingered just enough that it didn’t matter. The boys carried flashlights anyway—just in case—moving ahead of us with that kind of excitement that makes them walk faster without realizing it.

And then there it was. A fishing pier, private and well-kept, steps from the house.

First evening on the pier — the boys already in their element.

Erjon was completely in his element. This is what he loves—not just fishing, but teaching the boys how to do it. Showing them how to cast, how to wait, how to notice the smallest movements in the water.

And Gjyshi was right there with them, phone in hand, capturing everything. He doesn’t fish himself, but he will film every single cast, every small catch, every proud moment. By the end of the trip, his phone would be full of videos—most of them slightly shaky, all of them full of love.

Later, we found a small local hamburger place, and somehow there was bingo. We all played, and Jamie won one of the games, which felt exactly right.

Our first night out — a local burger place, bingo, and Jamie winning a round. Felt exactly right.

It was such a good first night—simple, easy, and already full.

Thursday Morning

It’s morning now, and I’m sitting with a cup of Nescafé—thank you, Nena—with my feet kicked up on the coffee table. The back door is open, and the air is moving gently through the room, carrying that clean, piney scent from the trees.

The lake is still. The tall pines stretch up like they’ve been here forever.

The house is quiet.

Well.

Quiet-ish.

This is the kind of place that makes you feel like you have something to say. I thought I would finally have the space to say it. I thought I would write about—

“Mom!! He’s cheating!!”

Hold on.

Okay, I’m back.

Apparently there is a full-blown dispute over a card game happening upstairs in the loft. Michael is insisting that William always changes the rules, Jamie is complaining that William is cheating, and William—grinning—is saying, “No! I didn’t do that!”

So now I’ve been called in.

Where was I?

Right.

Morning.

Coffee.

That didn’t last long.

Thursday (Later)

Erjon in his element. Gjyshi filmed every single cast.

The day started with more fishing. Erjon was back on the pier, patient and focused, while Gjyshi documented everything. At one point I glanced over and saw him crouched low, filming Michael reeling in a small catfish, narrating quietly in Albanian. He would watch those videos later, I knew. He always does.

At some point, I managed to convince everyone—even Erjon—to pause, have a quick lunch, and go explore Lake Livingston State Park. It was only 30 minutes away on the other side of the lake. Nena and Gjyshi decided to stay behind, and I’ll bet they enjoyed some precious alone time in the house.

“Unë jam e lodhur,” Nena said, waving us off. “Shko. Shko.”

Go. Go.

I think they were ready for some quiet. And we were ready to go and explore—just the five of us. It’s rare that Erjon and I get to talk in the car without someone else’s conversation happening around us, and I was looking forward to it. I guess I temporarily forgot about my boys’ endless excitement about…everything! All I had in my head was thirty minutes of driving, catching up, watching the scenery roll past together.

But then, we got in the car and our sweethearts commented on everything. EVERY detail that zipped by on the road. Every cloud, all the signs, a car, the different trees, and THEN they moved on to round two. You know the one, where they start rhyming every single word. And THEN there was the bridge. Yes, we were about to cross part of this massive lake by bridge.

Crossing Lake Livingston by bridge. ‘Is this the ocean?’ — actual question from the backseat.

“Look! Look!—we’re driving over the water!”

“Is this the ocean?”

“No, it’s a lake. Lakes don’t have sharks.”

“Are you sure?”

I wasn’t entirely sure, actually. But I didn’t say that.

The drive really was beautiful—pine trees and water and sky stretching out in every direction. Erjon and I managed to get a few sentences in between the backseat commentary.

And then we turned into the park.

And everything shifted.

“Ooooh…”

All of us, at once were sharing our awe and surprise. And I was secretly relieved that apparently, the day trip was worth it!

The trees, the quiet, the way the road opened into this beautiful forest—it felt like we had stepped into something completely different.

Erjon and me on the boardwalk at Lake Livingston State Park — mild weather, tall trees, no complaints.

After registering for the day at the front office, we slowly drove further into the park. With our windows down, we took in the fresh breeze and the new sights of campsites and state park signs. We found a one-mile boardwalk loop, a little farther in, that was shady and not too difficult. After a terse discussion between Jamie and William about who would wear the first aid supply backpack, I joined in as judge and jury to suggest that they rotate every few minutes, and somehow they agreed!

Michael, Jamie, and William on the boardwalk trail — all three of them, taking it all in.

This particular trail was unique, because it had a boardwalk throughout the entire path. This was a detail Erjon and I appreciated because there was absolutely no thinking involved and everyone tended to stick to the path. There was a bird watching hut, a few small ponds, and lots and lots of lovely tall trees. And talk about amazing weather! You couldn’t get a better time of year to enjoy East Texas. Mild, a bit cool and…comfortably dry. And no bugs in the air. I could go on and on, but really, this season and place really knocked it out of the park for us this spring break.

All five of us on the boardwalk loop. One of my favorite photos from the whole trip.

Afterward, the path returned us to our parking lot. We drove back up the road to the main intersection and saw a broad, green park with more tall trees and signs about a nearby activity center (aka: bathrooms!). We parked nearby and then—completely unplanned—the boys noticed the small beach area just beside it. After all that hiking, “we” (ahem-they) unanimously decided to swim! They stripped down to their boxers and ran to a ladder going into the deep water. After a few shrieks about how cold it was, they dared each other enough that they finally jumped in. Erjon almost went in too, but we both ended up talking to a few other nearby fishermen who were enjoying our boys’ show of bravery with the cold water.

They stripped down to their boxers and jumped in. I stood at the edge, holding their clothes, secretly ready to jump in if needed.

And I stayed at the edge, holding their clothes, watching it all unfold. Secretly ready to jump in (ugh!) if needed.

After several minutes Michael, William, and Jamie climbed out, got dressed and we all walked back to the car. And dare I say…Erjon and I even got a few nice conversations in on that car ride back to the treehouse. Our boys were truly worn out!

I was one proud momma on that drive home as Erjon kept commenting how much he enjoyed the trip, the hiking, and the park. Phew! I mean, I had taken him away from fishing, so it had better be worth it, that trip!

Thursday Night

We made our way back, and of course, it was back to fishing. I happily prepared a quick dinner for the boys (I am confident saying that it might have involved some mac and cheese, hot dogs and…a boiled egg (don’t ask) and then I attempted to update Nena on the day’s adventure in my broken Albanian. Since Nena offered to clean up afterwards, I grabbed my laptop, fully intending to write down about all of my success from that day. I leaned back in a deck chair, enjoyed the view from that balcony high up in the trees and felt inspired and energized.

Jamie, scampering up from the pier: ‘Mom, where are some bags? I caught a White Bass!!!’

“Mom, where are some bags? I caught a White Bass!!!”

I looked down at Jamie scampering up the steps from the pier…Oh Jamie…yes of course I’ll check the pantry for some bags.

Okay. Back after a quick search around the kitchen for a bag…and now the internet was…spotty? Ugh, I’m not a techy person and this just stumps me. After plugging in my laptop back in the hallway, I looked for my phone.

Later in the evening, Nena had started dinner for us older folk as I happily gave my boys their ipads in order to slow things down for the day. Gjyshi was on the deck, reviewing his videos, occasionally calling one of the boys over to show them a clip of themselves.

I sat down with my phone. Opened my notes app. Typed three words. I WILL write a few notes about today’s journey.

30 minute drive, bridge and lake, boys excited, Lake Livingston State Park, Boardwalk hike, swim-

A thump.

Then another.

I looked up in the living room.

Jamie had discovered that his small lemur stuffed animal made an excellent projectile when thrown from the top of the stairs into the decorative basket at the bottom. Michael, not to be outdone, had found a foam football in the toy basket.

Thump.

THUMP.

That last one hit the wall.

“Okay, new rule—nothing else gets thrown down the stairs!”

“But Mom—”

“Nothing.”

Ok, where was I? The lake, the hike, the drive, it was a 10 out of 10 day…ok, that’s good enough for now!

Friday

Friday morning coffee on the treehouse deck. This was the dream.

Friday felt slower, the kind of day you don’t really plan but just glide through. More fishing. Some swimming. A bit of music playing through the blue tooth speaker in the house. By late morning, Erjon had returned to the tree house deck and pulled out his pellet gun. He wanted to teach his boys how to handle it and this was the perfect place to practice.

Erjon teaching Michael how to handle the pellet gun on the deck — a proper dad moment.

Nena started up the grill on the deck and grilled some tasty steaks and sausages–yummy enough that even our picky eater, William, licked his plate clean. Meanwhile, I picked up after the boys in the loft and cleaned up after breakfast.

Somewhere in the afternoon, William and Jamie had discovered a hammock stored in a big box behind the living room sofa–and it was just pure golden luck. What a wonderful surprise!

Michael at the edge of the lake. Gjyshi filmed this one three times.

Nena and Gjyshi even slowed down that day – relaxing in their own space on the first floor—a separate room and bathroom—which made the whole house feel designed for exactly this kind of trip. And that extra-long hallway to our own room allowed Erjon and me to have a little break from the high energy in the house.

Erjon on the treehouse deck — happy, relaxed, and far away from the chaos inside.

When lunch was ready, we all came out to enjoy the full meal. I watched Gjyshi sitting on the deck, phone in hand, enjoying a steak, playing back a video of our oldest son, Michael, casting his line. He replayed it twice. Then a third time.

He doesn’t speak much English, and I don’t speak much Albanian. But I understood how special that moment was.

What a perfect time to write about the day! Tap, tap, tap goes my fingers on my phone’s notes app. Better yet, what a perfect time to break out my laptop and go to town on this…

But let’s see – BOTH twins had discovered the hammock.

First, there was the negotiation over who would use it.

Then, they decided to “help” each other—pushing it like a swing.

Then, they decided to share it.

At the same time.

“Mom! We both fit!”

They most certainly did not.

Jamie rolled out, hit his head on the deck floor, and needed an ice pack.

Really, he was almost fine (which is usually enough). The hammock was fine. However my nerves were less fine.

I gave up on writing for the afternoon.

Nena swinging William in the hammock — the gentler version of what happened earlier.

Friday Night

I am tapping this into my phone.

The internet is spotty, of course.

The house is quieter now, for a moment. Erjon is by the sink, rinsing the knives he had used to clean the fish from the day’s catch. Nena is nearby, finishing up the fish for frying. Gjyshi is showing Michael one of his videos on the couch. The back door is still open.

Somewhere, someone made a coffee run. There are now seven Keurig pods lined up on the counter like a small victory.

I look at my notes app. I have fragments. Half-thoughts. Moments I tried to hold onto. Let’s just add one more note on how fun that Mexican Train Domino game was last night…

Jamie walks in through the sliding-glass door from the deck.

“Mom?”

“Yes?”

“Can all three of us fit in the hammock?”

Michael jumps up and heads to the deck.

I pause. Picture it. Three boys, one hammock.

Giggles already rising from the deck.

“Wait—no, don’t try that yet—”

Hold on.

I’ll finish this later.

I keep saying that.

Maybe that’s the point.

From the loft, I can hear them negotiating who gets which bed tonight. Someone has claimed the one by the window. Someone else is objecting. A third voice is suggesting they rotate.

The lake is dark now, and still. The pines are just shapes against the sky.

I close my notes app.

Tomorrow, maybe.

The whole crew, heading home. Boys worn out, hearts full. This is the one I’ll want to remember.