The Someday Story: Hope, Grief, & Chasing Memories

A series of somedays got us here.

I missed him by three weeks. Ten years living all across the country for work and I was finally coming home, at least for a little while. While not under these circumstances, that had been the goal. Someday I’d make it to a big city near family.

I was diagnosed with an incurable illness in my twenties. Though it may not take my life, it has most certainly diminished the quality of it. At the time, my career was going well and I had big dreams. Someday, I worried, my body may not be able to make them come true.

As the years went by and my condition worsened, I knew I needed a backup plan to ensure I had income, or at least a paid off home, if ever I couldn’t work anymore. Someday, I decided, I’d save up enough money to buy a rental property.

In November of 2021 my dad died unexpectedly of a heart attack, just three months before he was supposed to walk me down the aisle and three weeks before I was supposed to come home. I’d put in notice at my job and was planning to take some time off because of my health. While I was devastated to be leaving my career, I’d been looking forward to spending time with him. He was unconscious by the time I got to the hospital after a frantic cross-country flight. As I sat holding his hand watching his pulse drop lower and lower, I remembered his long time dream never realized. Someday, he’d say, I’m going to have a house on the water with a dock in the backyard.

I hadn’t ever considered where I’d buy that rental property. It seemed like such a far away goal at the time, but after dad died it became very clear. I wasn’t waiting any longer.

Too much is lost to somedays that never come.

For the next six months I searched for a waterfront home. Dad had wanted a place for him, sure, but what really mattered was creating a space for friends and family to come visit. It’s the memories he never got to make attached to that idea that breaks my heart most.

Several houses needed too much work. Others had poor views. Many were out of budget. I wasn’t just looking for four walls and a lake. I was chasing memories—the ones not yet made and those that never got the chance to be. I had a vision in my head of a warm, cozy, cottage that would serve as a catalyst to create more somedays for others.

So, I doubled down and searched harder, but driving makes me sick and travel is tough on my body. One day, as my husband drove us back to Tennessee from the Carolinas, I was in tears because of the symptoms and wondered if I’d ever find the right spot to honor my dad. That’s when I looked out the window in an effort to calm my nausea and saw water. I had no idea what it was, but I knew we weren’t far from home.

“How far are we from Knoxville,” I asked?

“About 35 minutes,” he said.

“Perfect. This is it,” I replied.

I bought a piece of land on Douglas Lake to build the someday dad always wanted and I’d inevitably need. I designed every piece, picked every finish, and poured my heart and his memory into this dreamy waterfront cottage. Four years later, I opened the arched front door to guests.

It was sooner than expected and faster than we’d planned.

We’d intended to live on the lake for a few years, but I’ve learned to act quickly when it comes to time and family. Just two months after moving in to the cottage, a loved one in Dallas was diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer’s. There my husband and I sat digesting the news in the living room of a home built for the very thing at stake with that diagnosis—memories. And in that moment, with the sound of the waves gently brushing the shore outside, it was as if this inviting cottage was telling us to go.

Someday doesn’t wait. I know that now. So, we filled up boxes we’d just unpacked, hung my dad’s boat dock art piece in the hallway, and readied the house to rent. It’s bittersweet leaving it behind so soon and knowing the reason why. But this is the concept on which Someday was built. It’s why it exists.

We can’t afford that dock in the backyard just yet, but I know we’ll get there. This is a dream to be shared and I can’t thank you enough for being part of our journey and letting us be part of yours. Someday all you’ll have are the photos, videos, and voicemails. Someday I hope you’ll make a few of those memories here. We can’t wait to have you and if I’ve learned anything, you can’t either.

With love,
Summer