I spend thousands each summer to stay at a lake an hour from home. I tried vacationing in new places, but the nostalgia is worth more.

A few weeks ago, my daughters were floating in the water of New Hampshire’s Lake Winnipesaukee, with my mother and grandmother.

I snapped a quick picture and then joined them, thinking how special it is to have four generations swimming together.

But I wasn’t only considering the generations that were there — I was also thinking of the two generations that came before.

My grandmother’s grandmother also came to this lake and floated in this exact spot.

I’m not a religious person, but there’s something spiritual about watching your kids play in the same water where their great-great-great-grandmother frolicked.

These are the big-picture ideas that I have to embrace when it comes to Lake Winnipesaukee, which is only about an hour from my home.

My logical, budget-conscious brain tells me it’s silly to spend on what’s essentially a staycation, but my heart knows it’s worth every penny.

With so many generations coming to the lake, our family has spread out to various houses in the same cove our ancestors stayed in.

The camp my grandmother attended as a girl is now owned by a very distant cousin.

The one I visited as a kid is owned by my aunt, and we’re lucky to have access to a few free overnights each year.

But to really get our lake fill, my immediate family rents another distant cousin’s camp for a week each August.

He gives us a family discount of $6,000 for the week (a steep price cut from the $10,000 going rate).

My husband and I pay $2,000 for our portion of the camp.

There’s a lot I could be doing with that money.

This winter, I researched trips to Jamaica ($2,400) and Portugal ($2,800) that were in the same ballpark as my annual lake week.

Three summers ago, my family agreed to skip our annual vacation.

My mother and sister had just purchased a home, so they were tight on time and money.

My husband had been encouraging me to consider new places we could explore with our vacation fund, and I was willing to try.

That summer we went on plenty of trips, to Vermont, Boston, and Martha’s Vineyard.

But I knew we’d made a mistake skipping the lake.

The annual week at Winnipesaukee fills my soul in ways that an overnight or weekend away simply can’t.

When I think about my travel budget, I envision adventure and new experiences.

My daughters are being raised in a tiny rural town, and I have an obligation to show them the world.

And yet I’ve realized my annual lake week, which is about grounding and tradition, is just as important as exposure to new places.

I get to watch my kids meet third- and fourth-cousins who they would never know if we didn’t return to this place.

They connect with family lore about their great-great-grandmother (who may or may not haunt the island), and play the same silly pranks my uncle perfected.

I get so much fulfillment and joy from sitting on the island with my family.

Since the year we skipped the lake, I think of our vacation budget with two buckets: one for exploring new places, and the other for fostering a connection with our family history.

It may not be as exciting, but that time and the traditions are valuable beyond measure.