Reflections on Returning to Orchard Lake: The Waters and the Land of My Childhood and Ancestors

My paternal grandparents' home on Orchard Lake today, remodeled.

"Cherry Hill," my grandparents' home as it was then. My father is on the walkway in front.

I am sitting where a small porch wall once was. Several photos of my brother and I were taken here nearly 70 years ago.

With my twin brother, John, age 4, on the porch wall of my grandparents' home, 1955.

One of the two pontoon boats that took our wedding party to and from Apple Island 47 years ago.

The pontoon boats were new when Jim and I were married in the summer of 1974.

My parents on Apple Island, July 27th, 1974.

My memories at Orchard Lake go back as far as I can remember.

Playful, happy times for John and me with our dad. Apple Island can be seen behind us.

My sweet brother.

Among the happiest times for John was when he was sailing. This is his first sailboat.

On our most recent trip to Michigan, I get to swim once again in Orchard Lake at one of our old family beaches, August 23rd, 2021.

Orchard Lake has long been a deeply special and sacred place for me. My brother and I grew up swimming in this lake in Michigan, as did my father and his siblings, and also my paternal grandparents and great-grandparents and great-great-grandparents. My memories extend back as far as I can remember. 

 

I also married my first husband and our three sons’ father, Jim Murray, on Apple Island on July 27th, 1974. The pontoon boats that carried the wedding parties back and forth from the island all those many years ago are still there at one of our old family beaches. 

 

My grandparents, Frederick Smith Strong, Jr. and Marjorie Ward Strong, had once owned Apple Island. It wasn't until after my grandmother’s death that my grandfather donated the island and our family beach to the West Bloomfield School District. The pontoon boats then also came to serve the children of those schools, taking them to the island for nature study. 

 

Just over one year after our wedding in 1974, my father died suddenly at the age of 60. Two years later at the age of 26 my twin ended his life. Our mother went on to remain in her narcissistic illness until the miracle of her partial awakening beginning in 2013 at the age of 87. In those last years of her life, my mama opened her heart to love. My dad and brother, tragically, both lived out their lives with hearts that were defended and fortified against hurt... and, therefore, also love. But that is not the end of the story.

 

There was a lot of trauma and closely guarded secrets in my childhood family. It is also true that Orchard Lake holds some of my happiest memories. My brother sailed his first sailboat there. We played and snorkeled and swam in the summer and played in the snow in the winter. I loved staying at my grandparents’ home, which my great-grandparents had built for my grandparents and my father and his siblings when my dad was a tiny child.

So much history there. And today I get to return as an adult whose heart is open and holding with lovingkindness my younger self and my beloved family. Yes, there was a lot of generational and cultural pain in my family, as there is in countless other families. And there were also the precious times of shared happiness and play and adventure and immersion in the beauty of nature. Today I hold it all. 

 

As my husband Ron and I first approached Orchard Lake, there was a beautiful monarch butterfly resting near the shore. What a lovely symbol for the deep gifts of the stories of our lives that are embraced, healed, and alchemized into gratitude, compassion, blessing, and love. 

 

💗Molly 

 

From left to right, my dad & Aunt Mary (Fritz's wife), dad's siblings Peggy & Fritz & Roz, Super (my grandfather), my mom, Uncle Bill (Peggy's husband), on the porch of Cherry Hill, 1975.