The homes that raise us.These 3 lovelies grew up at a nearby Wandawega cottage. (Slide to see the years blow by).The middle sister Irene with Pat & Alice would meet the boy next door, fall in love, see him through the war & back, get married, have kids & spend the rest of their long lives together.The girls kept an album of their years spent growing up, growing families & growing old at their little cottage.The album is full of everyday lake life: mowing, sawing trees, birthday cakes in the yard & one sad shot waiting for the bus to take them back to the city.Decades after these photos where taken, our friends @brianguysmith1 & @geyer.morford found the cottage & restored it back to its glory days in spectacular fashion.Then one day Irene knocked on their door.They opened it to her, to share their labor of love restoration of her little cottage.This would turn out to be the first of annual visits, with Irene making the pilgrimage with her family to tour the house that had raised her.I only met Irene only once, at her 91st bday party that she came back to celebrate at her childhood cottage.(Nobody knew that it would be her last visit- she passed away soon after).Flipping through the album, it hit me that when we restore old homes, were also restoring a sense of pride for those who called it home first.If you live in an old house, and someday get a knock from a prior owner dont worry about letting strangers in (for fear of them seeing dirty dishes & laundry).See it as honor for you, a blessing for the home, and a gift for them.Because all they are going to see inside is their own childhood.Opening our door is more than opening up our homes & ourselves -its what connects us through generations, & stays with us long after they – and we – leave.Here at camp, we say that were just the current caregivers in a 100-year-long line.(We dont know if Charlie will choose to take over this place or not).But someday when we get to be as old as Irene was, we plan to come back here (with our memories in tow) and knock on the door.We hope theyll let us in.In the meantime,its an honor to always keep our door open.RIP, Irene