I lived in Grand Rapids from 1980 on. Most of the different places I lived were in Midtown. Chuck and I had a house on Grove St., NE, the only place outside of Midtown that I resided. Since I've been back in the area, I've been getting to know the Northwest Side, since Annie lives NW of Alpine and Leonard, as well as Wyoming, since Kathleen (where I've been staying since Monday) and her family live NE of Burlingame and 44th.
Once upon a time, many years ago, my family lived on Illinois in Wyoming, but I was really young then and don't remember it. The story I have been told about that time is that my mom had been sitting and sewing on the couch. She left the house for a few minutes to talk to a neighbor, while I was napping. When she came back, I had cut the couch with the sewing scissors that had been left out.
My paternal grandparents lived on the NW side of Grand Rapids. I still like to drive past their old house on Edison now and then, even though it looks totally different these days. I can still visualize the old place with its hens and chicks in the rock wall, and it's long, shady backyard leading to the amazing garden with its rows of cherry and pear tomatoes. I also remember the lilies of the valley growing along the north side of the house in which there lived a very large toad, and the little cubby where milk was delivered.
But all I really knew of the West Side was how to get to their house and back to Holland, where we lived much of the time. Later, of course, I went many other places on the West Side, to friends' homes, to rehearsals, to The Walker Roadhouse where Alice worked for several years, to Union High for concerts, etc. But those were all "in and out" visits. I wasn't living in the neighborhood.
What feels different is getting off US 131 at Leonard and knowing, feeling in my bones, exactly how far it is to Alpine and then to Widdicomb. Same goes for getting to Kathleen's. No more wondering, "Is that Burlingame coming up, or is it the next one?" I know it when I get close, whether I'm coming from the east or the west. Tonight, I drove to a choir rehearsal in Jenison and learned a whole new relationship between streets that I have traveled before, but maybe not as far west or south as they go. Tonight, I traveled from Wyoming to Lowell, and then from Lowell to Jenison. I was fascinated. But that's the way I feel about traveling most of the time. "Oh! This goes there!"
Soon, I will help Annie move to another location on the West Side, and I will get to know more about that area before I depart West Michigan mid-October. And then I will learn coastal South Carolina, St Helena Island, I hope, if that pans out - or some other watery place.
Once upon a time, many years ago, my family lived on Illinois in Wyoming, but I was really young then and don't remember it. The story I have been told about that time is that my mom had been sitting and sewing on the couch. She left the house for a few minutes to talk to a neighbor, while I was napping. When she came back, I had cut the couch with the sewing scissors that had been left out.
My paternal grandparents lived on the NW side of Grand Rapids. I still like to drive past their old house on Edison now and then, even though it looks totally different these days. I can still visualize the old place with its hens and chicks in the rock wall, and it's long, shady backyard leading to the amazing garden with its rows of cherry and pear tomatoes. I also remember the lilies of the valley growing along the north side of the house in which there lived a very large toad, and the little cubby where milk was delivered.
But all I really knew of the West Side was how to get to their house and back to Holland, where we lived much of the time. Later, of course, I went many other places on the West Side, to friends' homes, to rehearsals, to The Walker Roadhouse where Alice worked for several years, to Union High for concerts, etc. But those were all "in and out" visits. I wasn't living in the neighborhood.
What feels different is getting off US 131 at Leonard and knowing, feeling in my bones, exactly how far it is to Alpine and then to Widdicomb. Same goes for getting to Kathleen's. No more wondering, "Is that Burlingame coming up, or is it the next one?" I know it when I get close, whether I'm coming from the east or the west. Tonight, I drove to a choir rehearsal in Jenison and learned a whole new relationship between streets that I have traveled before, but maybe not as far west or south as they go. Tonight, I traveled from Wyoming to Lowell, and then from Lowell to Jenison. I was fascinated. But that's the way I feel about traveling most of the time. "Oh! This goes there!"
Soon, I will help Annie move to another location on the West Side, and I will get to know more about that area before I depart West Michigan mid-October. And then I will learn coastal South Carolina, St Helena Island, I hope, if that pans out - or some other watery place.
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