Little Helper

May 17, 2026

If you get my weekly Silver Linings essay, you’ll recognize this picture from the most recent post. To get to Frye Island, where our family has a ~~cottage~~ camp, you have to take a ferry. In the olden days, we used to be able to get out of our cars and ride outside as long as we sat down. We still have to take a ferry to get to the island, but now, we have to stay in our cars. A lot has changed since my parents bought the place in 1984, but not our love for this little island or our “shabby chic” cottage.

There was a lot of work to do after buying a cottage that needed so much work. My parents were eyeing their retirement so their intention was to spend weekends doing whatever upkeep and maintenance they could do themselves. Whenever I was able to come up with the kids, we were always pressed into service. Can’t swing a hammer? Well you can always paint something! I went looking for pictures of Annie doing some of that work, but this one was the only one I came across:

Annie helping Papa build the stairs to the water. Looks like someone did give her a hammer!

I know there were more instances than this difficult-to-make-out photo, but this will have to do for now. (It’s not that easy to go through hundreds of photos that I just want to lose myself in.) In addition to all the odd jobs that Annie and Christopher had to do to help Grandma and Papa, years later Annie also took on the role of General Contractor and Crew when a handyman left the water on after he opened the cottage and flooded half the house. She created proposals, estimates, and “hired” the crew (Tony and Joey) to replace walls and floors and repaint both so we could get it back to renting shape.

My point, I suppose, is that she not only loved the cottage and brought her friends here every year, she helped to make it what it is. She’d pick up little knick-knacks to decorate or contribute essentials that needed updating or just needed to be added. It was when we stopped at Wal-Mart one year on our way to close up for the season and needed to pick up an extra space heater that the now famous “Infrared” incident happened. When she realized that she might not have as much time as she thought/hoped she did, Annie talked to me about maybe spending the month of May or June on the island. It was my intention to totally make that happen for her, but she died three weeks before opening day that year.

The way Annie always wanted to help others—as a child, as a student, as a young adult, as a mom and as a community member—inspires me to do my best to figure out the best way to make Pocket Full of Rocks work. I think we’re still in the novice stage, trying to figure out how best to put Annie’s dream to help others into action. We’re raising money, are all organized into a solid nonprofit and have the will and the guidance of friends, but we have more to do.

In the next few months we’ll be reaching out to see if you have some thoughts or suggestions about what would really be helpful to provide to our communities, both local and global. I personally am looking forward to see what more we can do to make the world a little kinder, the way Annie would if she were here.

I’ll be in touch. ♥