A Return to Childhood

--> -->My sister recently sent me photos of my family’s trip to Michigan. As a kid, we would travel from Texas to Michigan via car, usually around the 4th of July. Most of these trips were taken in a rather unreliable, past-its-prime, orange station wagon…with no air conditioning. And yet, these trips were some of the most enjoyable of my life; not because the location was so exotic and new, but the opposite: because it was so familiar.
I remember as you would approach the “hills” right outside of Alpena, you knew you were getting close, and the butterflies in your stomach would start to flutter; as you reached the town limits, the butterflies were birds and your heart was thumping, anxious to see your family and old haunts—the putt-putt golf course on the beach, the domed Dairy Queen, Bob’s Big Boy, 432 Dawson Street and 117 Lewis Street. And, then, the station wagon would make that final left turn onto Dawson, and you were so close you were bursting with excitement! At my mom’s mother’s house, you would open the screen door and step inside—the sound of the plastic runner in the hallway under your feet and the smell of Polish sausage drifting through the hall made you realize you were once again home. And when we visited my dad’s parents’ house, it was the same thing: I would stand, transfixed with the miniature shamrock tea cups in the front room and the family photographs from years before lining the walls of the living room, even though I had seen both a million times before. It was the sense of arriving, of being home, that was so easy and recognizable, and yet still enthralling.

Towns change, people come and go, but in seeing those photos, it was like a time capsule had opened: my grandparents were there to greet me with a warm hug, the swing in the backyard under the chestnut tree was inviting me to play, Abitibi was lingering in the air, but, most importantly, the joy and happiness of those times came rushing back.

As we get older, and our ambitions take over, I think we stop treasuring those simple moments. So, I am taking this moment to remember a familiar trip, filled with wonderful people, laughter and love, and cherishing the time we had.