Shards of Amethyst and Bone
We got passports this summer!
I fully intend to see the world to some extent, but I hadn’t yet been outside the US. It was time to fix that.
Canada was our testing ground for getting across a border without being flagged for something silly. We made it through, though they searched our car, which was so quick I didn’t even have time to use the restroom before they were done. We adapted fairly easily to kilometers instead of miles and had a fantastic time visiting our northern neighbor.
The Canada trip was impromptu. We didn’t have daycare the last week of August, and since our passports came early, we planned the Canada trip with some light but specific goals of going to an Amethyst mine, eating all the ice cream possible, and visiting the historical Fort William. The kids swam in the pool every night, and we watched episodes of Gravity Falls together in the evening.
We perused local grocery stores and bulk stores. The ice cream shop near our hotel seemed to have bigger sundaes than we can get back in the states, and we even drove nearly half an hour to a pirate ship themed park where a nice woman gave us suggestions of things to do while her kids played with ours.
Clouds filled the skies when we were at the Amethyst mine, but that didn’t diminish the experience. Filling buckets with beautiful purple gems, I spent an agonizing amount of time trying to choose which ones to bring home with me and which ones to let go. My daughter got a huge hunk of purple crystal, nearly a foot long, and surprisingly only about $30 by weight.
While happily sorting my amethyst into groups by color, I overheard another woman hurrying her kids along: “I can’t believe how much money I’m spending today on rocks.” I could only laugh to myself as I continued admiring my rocks.
Part two of our end-of-summer vacation was our stay at the pirate ship cabin in Bayfield, Wisconsin. The Apostle Isles Area Campground has themed cabins around their swimming pond. We stayed in a sea cave cabin two years ago and it was an amazing experience. This time, we wanted the pirate ship cabin.
From the moment I booked it, Kaiden, my three-year-old, had asked about the pirate ship cabin almost daily.
“When are we going to the pirate ship?”
“Are we going to the pirate ship tomorrow?”
After discussing an unrelated topic: “…then we’ll go to the pirate ship?”
It made me a question telling him the plan so early, but I was happy about how excited he was.
After returning home, bleared-eyed and exhausted, from Canada, we unloaded armfuls of amethyst and passed out for naps. We did an escape room at the Zoo the following night and played some party games. The next morning, we set out for the pirate ship cabin.
(If you are wondering if we were exhausted, yes. Yes, we were.)
We had a wonderful time that first day exploring the cabin, swimming in the swim pond, playing in the sand, perusing a local bookstore, and eating at a restaurant. We returned to the pirate ship to play games, but Kaiden wasn’t interested. The three-year-old only wanted to play in the secret hideout room above the top bunk bed, an amazing little play area that would’ve been my dream as an introverted child.
I had obsessively hovered over him the first few times he had gone up and down the ladder of the bunk bed, and though it was a little challenging for him, he mostly had the hang of it. That evening he was happily coloring in the secret play area, and the rest of us gathered around the table to play a pirate card game.
There are moments in life that you wish you could rewind, reset, fix, do something different. This was one of those moments.
The table we were playing cards at had a very stylized centerpiece consisting of pirate treasure and a big flag pole sticking up. The aesthetic was nice, but it made playing a game together as a family on the table challenging. I had suggested that my husband move from his spot on the table, which was closest to the bunk bed, closer to us so we could play easier and not have to pass the deck around.
Soon after, our wild three-year-old decided he was done coloring, but instead of climbing down the bunk bed, he started throwing his things off onto the hard wooden floor below. First his coloring book and crayons clattered down, startling us. Then came his blanket, and before we could even stand up, he came tumbling down himself.
His small body thudded on the wooden floor.
His cries echoed through the room.
Where? Where does it hurt??
His little wrist… crumpled.
Calling the ambulance at 8:30 pm.
All the while, he cried and cried.
I had a moment of panicked self-resentment as I held him, my mind screaming that I’m a horrible parent, I should’ve done better to watch him… etc. but as those feelings overcame me and I began to cry, his crying increased. I realized I needed to hold it together for him. He needed me to be strong because he was scared and hurting.
Looking back at that moment now, I see more clearly that just as he hadn’t done anything wrong, neither had I. It was a horrible accident that could have been so much worse. I’m so grateful that he only ended up with a broken wrist and a light bruise on his cheek instead of a head injury.
We spent five hours in the ER with Kaiden. Towards the end he was “drunk” from the meds they gave him, and it made the terrible night hilarious as he tried to roll away out of bed, bite the red light from the monitor on his finger, and said so many funny things that I can’t remember. We returned to the pirate ship at 3 a.m. Kaiden in a cast with a partially reset wrist (and a referral to a pediatric orthopedic surgeon).
That next day, Kaiden’s greatest desire was to play mini golf.
So we did.
He held the club in his good hand and tucked the golf ball under his chin.
We ate pancakes for breakfast and sandwiches for lunch, and when we confirmed his appointment with the surgeon back home would be in two days, we rode the ferry to Madeline Island.
I have a soft spot for Madeline Island. I camped there with friends a few years ago while I was pregnant with Kaiden. I also learned more about the history of it, read the wonderful book “The Birchbark House” and wrote a short story about when the white settlers forced out the indigenous people.
Kaiden and I sat on the top deck of the ferry, looking out at the water. Soon, he pointed off to a distant ship and yelled, “It’s a pirate ship!” Sadly, my ten-year-old got seasick. On the island we got ice cream, and then walked down a trail in search of hidden fairy gardens.
We found them.
My daughter built a fairy house.
My son built one too, placing sticks delicately with his only working arm.
His resilience is inspiring.
We returned to the cabin and had a fire, cooking hotdogs and s’mores. Kaiden devoured his hotdogs (except the one he dropped in the sand), and refused s’mores, because he thinks melted marshmallows are disgusting.
We checked out of the pirate ship cabin… and we will probably return. Hopefully next time we’ll spend more time swimming and relaxing by the fire than sitting in the ER. And the next time we go to Canada, I guarantee I’ll be spending more money on rocks.
Bring on the Fall.
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