From time to time life gives me surprises that I didn’t really see coming. When our niece set her wedding date for August, we thought that it might be a good opportunity to get our family together and to introduce our new granddaughter to that side of the family. We began to make plans for our children and grandchildren to travel to Montana for the wedding. Because the wedding is on a Saturday, we made plans to take a week of vacation. I noticed that the day after the wedding is my sister’s birthday, so I thought it might be fun to put together a gathering of my side of the family so that they could meet our grandchildren as well. Most of my siblings and their children have not yet met our grandson who is now three years old. It seemed like a nice weekend plan.

Then I realized that there was some work that needed to be done and that I needed to take some responsibility for things at a small piece of family property in Montana, so I planned to come out early. And there was the matter of needing a car for our son to drive as their family is flying and so we decided that Susan and I would bring two different vehicles and that we would travel on separate days.

And I have a cousin that I need to visit who has had a few health challenges in the past year.

And, before I knew it, the weekend had turned into a week and a kind of personal pilgrimage for me.

This morning I am camped at the place that was our family’s summer cabin during my growing up years. When our family obtained the place, it had been operated as a motor court, with small cabins and a common shower house. Over the years there were a few improvements made. Our father put in a new well, septic system and new bathrooms. After he died, a new log home was built for our mother. We then added a shop building to store the tractor and other equipment. Over the years the cabins have had roofs replaced and new siding installed and some have had foundation work done. A few were torn down. It isn’t fancy, but it is a nice place. Our mother set up a trust to keep the property in the family, but the trust has no source of income and so decisions about how to manage the property are challenging. For now we try to make it available to family members who are spending time in the area.

Spending the night alone at the place brought back all kinds of memories. It was a marvelous place to grow up with the river running next to the place carrying its music to all who stop. The willows and cottonwoods grow up and change the appearance of the place from time to time. Many of the huge old cottonwoods have died and been replaced by other trees. There have been som big storms over the years. But there is much that is the same. The place always was a gathering place for kids from all around the area and it still is a fun place for kids to visit. The river is still a blue ribbon trout stream and a good place for water play for those who respect its fast currents. If I get the time I hope to get the kayak in the water for a couple of miles, but we’ll see.

Today I will be heading up to Floweree, a small village between Fort Benton and Great Falls. Two of my high school summers were spent on the ranch there, working summer fallow and the harvest and doing a wide variety of jobs. One that I always remember (and so do the folks who live on the ranch) is sanding a combine. My uncle purchased a combine that had been dropped off the edge of a truck. He and my cousin re-built the combine and after the mechanical work was finished it had to be painted. Before it was painted, it had to be sanded. A combine is a big machine to sand. It seemed like it took weeks of sanding all day long every day. I was so glad when that job was finally finished!

After I leave the ranch, I’ll be coming back to our place on the river for one night before heading to Red Lodge for the wedding. Red Lodge is filled with memories for me as well. It is where my father’s parents lived when I was growing up. We visited there often and there were many family gatherings in the big house there.

One thing that I have learned by experience is that you can never return to the past. After I moved from Montana, there was never a real opportunity to return. It is partly the nature of my vocation. Ministers need to go where God calls and that isn’t always where we might otherwise have gone. Part of it is that we all change. I’m not the same person who left Montana for seminary in 1974. And the town definitely is not the same place. Many of the elders have now died. Other folks moved away. New folks came to town. Many of working ranches really couldn’t produce enough to make them feasible and the beautiful country was a good place for wealthy people to have hobby ranches and vacation properties. Artists came to the town and figured out how to earn their living by selling their work to the people who come and go. The town which used to boast three machinery dealers now has none. But it has several galleries where once there were none. Hardware stores have become home improvement centers and carry distinctly different stock. Even the grocery store carries a different selection of food.

Times change. People change. But it is good to come back to visit even if I spend more time with my memories than with the folks who live here.

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