A Labor Day to Remember
This past Labor Day weekend was particularly wonderful at the Milks. We gathered for a surprise birthday party for Carl—a celebration made all the more meaningful after the sudden passing of our dear friend Jim, along with three other close friends within just six months. Their losses reminded me how important it is to celebrate every year. Whether it’s 78, 80, or beyond, each milestone is worth honoring—and we’ll gladly do it again!
Through aid work and global travels, our lives have been enriched many times over. We’ve come to understand the thoughts and actions of people in faraway places and, more than anything, have learned that families and friendships are among life’s deepest treasures. Carl, originally from Michigan, is far from his family. I, from the Netherlands, have only two family members left, both too old to travel. But here, we are surrounded by “young blood” from many nations, who—one by one—find their way to Duck Harbor for long or short stays.
The longest guest has been our dear Grace from Uganda, who knew Jim and the Yurkovitch family well. Now in her late 20s, Grace completed her online STEM master’s degree through Youngstown University before joining us at the lake. She also spent a year at Sullivan County Community College, dipping her toes into American life with courses in the arts to complement her degrees in chemistry education. In the fall of 2022, after earning her driver’s license, my Toyota quickly racked up miles as she commuted.
That same winter, we were able—miraculously—to bring Wiekersen out of Haiti. He joined Grace at SUNY, starting from scratch since his years of study in Haiti weren’t recognized here. Just three days after he began, Carl and I left for our winter stay in Lecce, Italy, leaving Grace and Wiekersen to the elements—and to Jim. Thank heavens for Jim! He looked out for them, plowed without being asked, and made sure they never missed class.
One spring day, Grace sent us a photo of our dock floating away in the middle of the lake. Carl called Jim—who was in Arizona at the time—and Jim, in turn, called a neighbor (whose name escapes us now) who bravely kayaked out into freezing water to tether the dock to shore. When Jim returned, he secured it properly for us. Aside from a few missing poles, all was saved. Once again, Jim was our hero.
This Labor Day, Carl was the only 100% American at the party. I brought the Dutch spirit (you can take a girl out of Holland, but you can’t take the Holland out of the girl—though here in Duck Harbor, the same could be said for all of us!). Around us were friends from Nepal, Haiti, and Uganda, along with a lively group from New Jersey (a foreign land of its own!). Among them were four Haitian doctors who, after fleeing kidnapping threats, violence, and gang takeovers, were able to come to the U.S. with international jobs. They left everything behind but a suitcase and, in recent years, endured unthinkable loss. Yet here, by the lake, they found a new kind of peace—a discovery of home.
The weekend was filled with firsts. Grace, Wiekersen, and friends learned how to fish—cheered on by neighbors with every catch. (Fishing is illegal in Uganda, so this was an entirely new joy!) They roasted their first s’mores by the fire, went canoeing, sailing, and frisbeeing, took long walks without fear, and laughed at the simple surprise of a neighbor’s dog sneaking our cat food. They swung gently by the lake, enjoyed the band playing familiar American and British songs, and joined in square dancing—our “Magic Circle” of three! Maitland’s BBQ impressed everyone, potluck was a delightful discovery, and boats and floats drifted by with warm waves as if we were all family. And truly, we are. Families come together in many different ways.
For us, Duck Harbor has become one of our two homes, along with Italy. For our friends, who have lost so much, this place is not “a home away from home”—their original homes are likely gone forever. Here, though, they have found belonging, joy, and love.
This weekend reminded me once again: life is so very, very good here. And Jim—you’ll always be with us.
