BACKTRACKING
Going Home
Terry Hogan
Some of you know that I
don't live in Galesburg any more.
I write from the safety of distance. It helps to gain a perspective of events, uncluttered by the
details of facts and reality. I'm
a little like Garrison Keillor, only without the writing ability, the wit, and
the sense of humor. On the other
hand, he has the advantage that Lake Wobegon residents are unlikely to be
offended by his narratives of recent events.
I recall a story by
Garrison of going back home to Lake Wobegon for Christmas. The parents had moved away to be
successful in a bigger city and were coming home to their parents to celebrate
Christmas. They were bringing
their own children to visit their grandparents. The nearer they came to reaching Lake Wobegon, the
greater the apprehension grew. It
is a common theme for many of us.
And so it was in
October. My mother was to
celebrate her 90th Birthday. The three sons threw a birthday party gathering of
friends and family at the Kensington in Galesburg. There were four generations
represented. Relatives from New Hampshire, Indiana, Michigan, and Illinois
helped celebrate her birthday. All in all, it went well. Great grandchildren were able to visit
the "Q's" humps and watch the grandest scale of trains move by and
under them. My hat goes off to the
highway bridge designer who had the foresight to construct the bridge wide
enough to accommodate safe pull off on the shoulder so train enthusiasts of all
ages could stop and watch the trains.
Our children and
grandchildren were able to visit Lake Bracken. For our children, it was an opportunity to refresh their
childhood memories of visiting their grandparents. For our grandchildren, it was a new memory that may or may
not "stick" with time.
As I recall with our own
children, "going home" to Galesburg was a stressful time. You wanted
the kids to behave well - to reflect well on your parenting skills. As we drove through the snow, the tensions
in the car would grow, both in the front seat and the back. Just as you were
getting close to home, the kids would seem to reach the critical mass of
crankiness and begin to pick at one another. Hopes for a perfect Christmas were
being dashed in the back seat, as we approached the exit from I-74. Squabbles between sisters escalated.
I'd intervene, providing the catalyst to provoke both to tears, and a glare
from their mother.
But most of the parent
fears were unjustified.
Grandchildren attach to grandparents and form a bond that can be best
described as "an enemy of my enemy is my friend".
Nevertheless, with
little ones, you never know what quite to expect when they are confronted with
an adoring audience. We as parents had learned that. Now our own children are being taught by their children. All
little ones seem to be natural born actors, only waiting for the right moment
to perform. And so it was at the
Kensington. Our younger daughter brought her children's Halloween costumes for
the three little ones to change into so Great Grandma could see them. The middle one, Avery, made the great
escape from the Kensington bathroom during changing into costume. She
accomplished a 4-year version of "streaking" through the family
gathering before she could be gathered up for the adding of a costume. Lady Godiva,
without the horse, was not in the original family script. The oldest of the
three Michigan great grandchildren is in kindergarten. He appeared as a Star
Wars hero, complete with a light saber.
He demonstrated his youthful vigor in the use of the device, causing no
harm, but some minor alarm.
Friends and relatives
came and visited, renewing old acquaintances and family ties. Four generations
were present, spanning 90 years. Old photos of ancestors extended the presence
for another three generations, back to approximately 1857.
As always, the
Kensington staff did an excellent job in setting up for the gathering and in
providing food and drink without being noticed or interrupting the
gathering. Such abilities are rare
and their unnoticed support deserves to be noticed. They even overlooked the occasional invasion of other parts
of the Kensington by wee ones who can totter off at nearly the speed of light
when so motivated.
We came home from as far
as New Hampshire, and from as near as Galesburg, to meet and share common
bonds. No children were lost. No damage was done. And has been the case for generations,
the little ones provided enjoyable entertainment for all, but perhaps their
parents. Such as it was. Such as it has been. And hopefully, such as it will be in
the future.
Going home.