Kansas Snapshots by Gloria Freeland - December 19, 2025

Treasured memories

Heading north, the scene outside our van's window shifted slowly. Wide expanses of snow-covered farmland gave way to forests of bare-branch maples, birches, tamaracks, and aspens interspersed with frost-covered pines, balsams and spruce.

Inside, husband Art, his mother Donna, his brother Tommy, daughters Mariya and Katie, and I talked, marveling at the snowy wonderland outside, as we made our way to the home of Art's cousin Claudia and her husband Karl on Whitefish Lake.

When we arrived, their husky Newfoundland came bounding through the snow, while Karl supervised to make sure she didn't overwhelm us. Claudia was at the door, waiting with hugs as we made our way into their home.

In the breezeway stood a tall tree Karl had cut from the nearby woods. It had been lovingly decorated with old-fashioned ornaments, including miniature birch-bark birdhouses and stars Karl had made. Claudia's childhood dollhouse was nearby.

We were often greeted by the smell of a hearty minestrone soup or ham dinner awaiting our arrival. After, we munched on a wide variety of delectable Christmas cookies they had made together. The warmth I felt was palpable.

For years, these trips sandwiched between Christmas and New Year's were a highlight of our holiday season.

The origins of these visits can be traced back more than a century. Claudia's mother Lela, a sister to Art's dad, was a long-time school teacher in Sussex, a community near Milwaukee. Lela made friends with some people who had a cottage on Whitefish Lake. After she married and Claudia was born, mother and daughter often returned to the lake during the summer school recess.

Claudia's long history with the Northwoods was the reason we bought a cottage nearby. We learned so much about the area from her and Karl. They were avid supporters of the local library, and their coffee table always had stacks of books about the region's wildlife and history.

Karl put bird feeders in their back yard close to their living room's wide windows. Our visits, in both the summers and winters, always provided close views of woodpeckers, chickadees, blue jays, cardinals, hummingbirds, and many others. When Art gave me my first digital camera for Christmas 2005, I took it along. I spent more than an hour taking various shots of the wide array of feathered friends flocking to those feeders. Tommy described me as a "kid in a candy shop" with my new toy.

Squirrels, chipmunks, and deer were also frequent visitors. Although I was happy to never see one of the local black bears in their yard, Claudia and Karl saw quite a few, often necessitating feeder repairs.

During summers, it became a tradition for Karl to take the girls and me on his boat to explore the chain of lakes, pointing out the eagles, herons, fish, lily pads, and wild rice stalks encountered along the way. When German "kids" Nadja and Tim visited, the tour included pulling Tim on a tube behind the boat.

While we were in the boat, Art, Donna, and Claudia were usually inside the home, discussing some aspect of family history that Art had recently discovered. Claudia loved learning about her ancestors, and even wrote a booklet with recollections about her Vaughan grandparents.

Another summer tradition was just Claudia and me going out for what she described as a "ladies lunch." This typically included stopping somewhere to eat something a bit fancy, such as a turkey-cranberry-walnut sandwich, and browsing through little shops to find the latest offerings from local artists.

One summer, she and I made raspberry jam from the bounty that Art, the girls, and I had picked along back roads of the Chequamegon-Nicolet National Forest. Every year, I presented them with a pint of fresh raspberries that they could put on ice cream.

Of course, there was more to their lives than the time at the lake. Claudia's dad Claude, a butcher, died when she was just 17. She and Karl met in high school and married after she had been in college a while. Karl operated a press for a large printing company for years. Claudia was the coordinator of a 24-hour suicide hotline at the Mental Health Association of Waukesha County for 13 years. The couple raised three children, Amy, Karl Claude - always shortened to K.C. - and Art.

They were exceptionally good partners, complementing each other. Karl took care of outdoor duties and Claudia provided a beautiful home. Karl had a certain gruff quality about him, but we always found him to be a softie. In contrast, Claudia seemed easy-going, but had various rules, such as no visiting from noon until about 4 p.m. - "their" time to read or nap.

Mariya and Katie liked how the couple always included them in conversations. When they were younger, they'd play checkers with them. When they were older, they always wanted to know what they were studying and what their interests were.

Nadja said of Claudia:

I met Claudia for the first time in the Summer of 2005. I was immediately impressed by her smile, kindness, food, and her surroundings, her dog, her house and husband. She lived in a beautiful home with a huge window, which offered a wonderful view of the animals, especially the birds. She struck me as such a warm and lovely person. ...

Katie said Claudia made the "absolute best Christmas cookies - so many varieties and they were all so tasty!"

Mariya mentioned the "smorgasbord" of cookies as well, and said, "Their Christmas decorations made their home seem like a Christmas card!"

Just as the landscape changed as we headed north in our van, the passing years have changed us as well. Those who were the youngsters are now adults, some with youngsters of their own. They will create new memories that will be blended with those from the past. Karl died in 2017 and Claudia died earlier this month. The treasured memories of times we spent with them are now a permanent part of who we are.