Keeps Me Turnin' Home

Just a few days ago I touched ground again in my hometown. One can have all of the glitz and glamour and adventures of far-away places, but sometimes it is good to remember that place where you came from. I will admit that I often think about other places and how magical they sound, but then when I am in those places I defend West Michigan like it’s my job.

Last night when my family and I got back from the cottage up north, Jessie and I debated for a couple of hours of where we would go watch the Fourth of July fireworks. We already had our annual (22 years for me!) cottage July Fourth celebration, and usually on the actual holiday we are with friends spending time in good old Grandville. Things are now more complex because yesterday we had the option of either going to the beach to watch the fireworks, go downtown and watch a display in the city, or go to our usual spot in the grass at Grandville Middle School. Honestly, the thought of going to Grandville’s fireworks did not inspire me, just because it was Grandville…my hometown. And I mean given the choice of an expensive show on the beaches of Grand Haven or sitting on damp grass along Wilson Ave. which would you choose? However, after much debate, we decided we would just go to Grandville’s.

As we drove around town, stopping at my favorite gas station to get pop, I was able to really check the town out again for the first time in a long time. We drove past my high school where I saw those beautiful tennis courts where so many matches were played. We passed the mall where I remember spending my middle school weekends with my friends and waiting outside the movie theater for my parents to pick me up. Then we drove along Rivertown Crossings where Rachel once drove on the wrong side of the road and almost got us all killed. And of course we went by Panera Bread where my mom and I would stop nearly every Saturday morning for coffee during the long and cold winters and where just this year I met Sara to warm up in the -22 degree bitterness. Then we passed the boy’s house that I had a crush on since sixth grade and I remembered how in high school my friends would pull into his house just to make me nervous. And Steak n’ Shake where we all went after prom until 2 am laughing until I couldn’t breathe. Then going down Barry and being reminded of the first time I drove my white minivan through a blizzard down that hill right after I got my license. When we finally got to Wilson and saw the American flags lined along the street with family after family walking down with lawn chairs and lemonades and firecrackers, I felt good to be home and was proud of Grandville; a place where not just a season of my life occurred, but my whole life. The place I grew up in and came back to over holidays and long weekends in college. The town that really did build me and helped launch me into the real world. Even though the fireworks were probably not as great as the ones along the beach, and the same band that’s been playing for years that plays the same songs year after year was there, and the same elephant ears and walking taco stands were up, it could not have been a better hometown Fourth of July.

I think it’s really precious how people talk about their hometowns. In Florida as we would all reminisce about the place we left behind so far away, each would describe it as something incredible. I would hear them all speak about Maryland or West Virginia or Georgia and so on in ways that made me actually want to visit. Each town held something special to each of us, and not because of the sites or the things in the place, but because of the memories stored there. I mean, who can really say if Michigan or Georgia is better (I personally say Michigan, but I guess I am not being objective)? It’s all in the memories. And no matter how far away I go or new places I fall in love with, my heart will always be warmed when I see the “Vernor’s Ginger Ale” sign on the pop machines like I did for the first time in a long time yesterday…because, let me tell you, in no other state I have been in yet do they have the choice of Vernors on the vending machine.

The lyrics to the song below are some of my favorites. Whoever wrote the song did an amazing job because they make me feel like I am back home even when I am far away, and it reminds me of how wonderful it is to remember where you came from. It’s true, the memories on each corner of the street in Grandville, and being able to drive along the old roads and pass the Rainbow Grill and know that your mom and grandpa have been going there for years just like you is something that does keep you turning home.

Turning Home –David Nail

Usually take one last pass through town, stop the car, touch the ground

Watch those street lights swayin’ in the breeze. Decorated storefronts. Rusty ol’ gas pumps.

Try to fill my mind up with somethin’ ‘fore I go.

Picture postcard memories, well, they always make for good company.

I don’t know no town like the ol’ town, even when the miles are many, I feel like I’m still around.

Deep inside me like a ring’s through an oak tree, there’s something ‘bout a Sunday when I’m gone

That keeps me turnin’ home.

Standin’ here beneath these billboard lights, takes me back to those autumn nights.

Hometown bleachers packed real tight as we marched down the field.

My feet would swing from a dropped tailgate, out on Airport Road real late.

No one could walk a line too straight, but usually made it home alright.

And glory days I can’t relive, stories I’ll never forget.

I don’t know no friends, like the old friends. I never seem to laugh now, like I did with them.

But deep inside me, a piece of my history, I hear their voice even though they’re gone

And it keeps me turnin’ home.

Never twice the same way does it start, sure enough she stole my heart. On that ol’ gym floor spinnin’ ‘round and ‘round one night. And though we both tried real hard to wait, we sure did love the taste of the sweet love bein’ made, and prayin’ I got it right.

Graduation came and went, along with all the time we spent.

I don’t know no love like the first love. When I think about the best times, she’s the one I think of.

Deep inside me, oh the taste is bittersweet, I see her smilin’ even though she’s gone

And it keeps me turnin’ home.

Laughter

Lately I have been thinking about just how much I have been laughing. I know that sounds weird, and to many of you are probably thinking, “You laugh a lot, why would you think about that now?” But the past couple of months I have just been laughing a lot; and I mean the deep kinds of laughs that cause you to go to a separate room to let it all out and the constant giggles that spring upon me whenever they so desire. I don’t know exactly why, but I do know that this feeling of always having a smile on the inside is something I always felt this growing up, but in the recent years my carefree spirit was somehow shadowed briefly by little stresses, worrying about silly things, and this strange feeling of unrest and always wondering what was going on somewhere else. Of course I had some amazing times and laughed until I couldn’t stand it on so many different occasions, but inside I often felt anxious and as much as I read my Bible or prayed, my faith in God’s next steps for me in relationships or a career was not really there and I always felt a slight inner turmoil.

And now, I feel such celebration. Not necessarily because of the place I am living right now or that the people are better than the people at home. But for the first time in a really long time I feel such a peace and such a deep laughter. Laughing is probably one of my favorite things to do and in the past few weeks between checking guests in and spending hours getting burnt on the beach that spirit of life and giggles came back for real.

Somehow I have relearned the joy of being happy in the moment I am in right now. I felt completely content making a shell frame at 11 pm without wondering or worrying what else I could be doing. Within the hours of work and getting mosquito bites and driving too fast on the golf cart I was taught again about laughter and love. I know that may sound weird, but it’s true. I love that I have new people in my life who forced their way in and took the time to laugh with me and who told me their stories despite the fact that we may only be together for a short time. I like that I know again the wonderful feeling of someone making sure they spend time with you and telling you that they want to see you without being cocky or masking it with a, “Well I have to head that way anyway so it was on my way to see you, that’s why…” I like that things move slowly here and people talk slower and time moves at its own pace. I like that I can spend hours upon hours with someone talking on a dock along the Bayou, or on a picnic table in the middle of the hot night, or driving off island passing trees with blowing Spanish moss, or on the sand, or behind the front desk at work and feel like there is nowhere else in the world I would rather be. And I like how I don’t feel inhabited or closed off anymore.

It’s funny that in these months of experiencing true independence, I, in fact learned the meaning of dependence. I have always been so independent and stayed a good distance away from anything that I thought would get in my way. But now I have learned just how beautiful depending on people is. My mom from the time I was little would always read me that story The Rag Coat. In the story, the dad tells his little girl, “People need people.” It’s a beautiful story, and I highly recommend it, but that quote, more than anything else in that book is so true. People do need people. As much as you try to push them away, or not get too close, or worry that if you allow yourself to love or to laugh too much or to make too many memories with someone you might have to leave just leaves emptiness. People are what make this world so beautiful. Those great memories stored in my heart are never of the times I chose to be by myself (although, I do need my alone time), but are rather the times when I danced and laughed the whole night away with with my friends, or when I got up at 6 am to collect shells with Liz, or when a bunch of us got ice cream and just walked around aimlessly. People need people. You can’t do everything on your own. I like doing things on my own, but this journey has taught me that I can’t. And guess what? That’s okay; because I will tell you this: if you are floating in the ocean by yourself during stingray season you sure as hell better have a good handful of people who will get to you in a drop of a hat. And when you finally learned and became ok with the fact that you are no good at cooking, you want someone by your side who knows the best place to get take out calamari and who can help you bake the pizza rolls. Without people, and without giving a little bit of your heart and soul and secrets to those people and in return getting a piece of them as well, life doesn’t have that laughter. Independence is wonderful, but allowing yourself to be a little dependent is what deepens the soul.

The past few weeks I have done just that; sharing and laughing and making memories and telling people my dreams and in return laughing harder than I have in forever. I believe, truly, that God wants us to be happy and that is why He placed special people in our lives and created an Earth filled with wonders. I am still in awe of the depth of the ocean and what comes out from it. Every morning and evening after high tide new treasures are washed up. How in the world are some of those shells hot pink and how can dolphins swim and jump with such ease? Life is so beautiful and often times we allow past hurts or bitterness or worry to steal what is so incredible right in front of our eyes. We don’t really look at the sunset or listen to our friend talking or take time to eat a slow dinner or take a drive with all of the windows open even after you did your hair because we are too busy hashing out something that is stealing away our joy and laughter. And while I was down here I regained that laughter and was reminded of what it is like to feel as if you are going to burst with giggles over the silliest thing that no one else but you and that person right there would find funny.

Now every time I see a bottle of Sangria or bug spray, or smell the salty air mixed with the smell of fresh shrimp and red wine, or hear the sound of the surf or the song “Sweet Home Alabama” or hear someone ask, “reaalllllly?” I am reminded of a memory here and I laugh and laugh remembering, and I love that. Danishes, and hummus, my Jeep Wrangler, ugly Bermuda shorts, big sun bonnets, southern accents, and bottles of Perrier water all hold something special.

I would encourage everyone to take the time to laugh and not care what anyone else thinks of you. And to let people in and know the true celebration of life, and then of course, to pass it on to everyone along your journey.

During my days off down here, besides spending time with my friends, I have been able to read a lot. I re read Cold Tangerines and came across this paragraph that reminded me so much of the complete joy and laughter and zest for life I feel now:

“I want a life that sizzles and pops and makes me laugh out loud. And I don’t want to get to the end, or to tomorrow, even, and realize that my life is a collection of meetings and pop cans and errands and receipts and dirty dishes. I want to eat cold tangerines and sing loud in the car with the windows open and wear pink shoes and stay up all night laughing and paint my walls the exact color of the sky right now. I want to sleep hard on clean white sheets and throw parties and eat ripe tomatoes and read books so good they make me jump up and down and I want my everyday to make God belly laugh, glad that he gave life to someone who loves the gift….to remind us that we serve a fast-dancing God, a God who set this world whirling and crashing through space so that we could live from our toes and drum out the pulse of a billion veins carrying lifeblood to a billion hearts, temples to a God that got his hands dirty from making us from dust. Let’s dance and shimmer and scrawl out our stories across the sky, like he taught us to. Let’s echo his words, and let our lives speak those words: It is good.”

Because life is good; really good. And I really believe that God takes such delight when He sees me down on this earth swimming with a friend He put in my life for just that moment in the turquoise ocean he created. And I believe that God laughs like I do when He sees me laughing in the back room at work with someone and I think that God thinks it is good when He watches us depend upon each other and make the most out of the experience and people He provided us with.