Memorial Day Weekend
Muskegon, Michigan
On a hot spring day, the breeze that slides along the face of Lake Michigan can feel like an arctic blast. Later today I'll play baseball with the twins and we'll soak through our shirts before quitting in the middle of the second inning, not that I couldn't have gone longer, but then, I don't run as hard as they do. But now I'm thinking I wish I had worn a long-sleeved shirt. Stretched ahead is a long breakwater, terminated by a red lighthouse. A sign announces "Welcome to Pere Marquette Park." "A lot of ships have gone down here in storms," notes Chuck, and my mind jumps to the Shipwreck Museum at Whitefish Point, the last stop on the last vacation trip of all of the wonderful trips that Susan and I made together. It was to have been a repeat of our loop around Lake Superior, but circumstances dictated a shorter and less strenuous route, so we camped in Muskegon State Park before moving on to Tahquamenon Falls State Park with an intermediate stopover in Petoskey.
Susan's first born child Sharon, her husband Chuck, twin 11 year old sons Elijah and Garrett and I walk a quarter mile out into Lake Michigan along a smooth concrete pavement constructed over thousands of humvee sized quarried rocks. There is a definite feeling of separating ourselves from the ordinary. The crowded beach disappears behind us, and except for the ribbon of earth that supports us we are surrounded by water and sky. The wind and water sound a familiar melody. Jimmy Buffett singing "Changes in latitudes, changes in attitudes." Key West, the Conch Republic at the end of the Overseas Highway. We're all going back to Key West, at least symbolicly. At the Red Lighthouse at the End of the Road we'll scatter Susan's ashes over the water.
"Use your will to Zen away the cold", I tell myself. Think Beach, Think Sun, I'm warm, I'm warm. "I'm cold!" Sharon announces. Sharon is walking just ahead of me, the goose bumps on her shoulder glimmering in the noonday sun. "Is that a new tattoo?" I ask. "Just had it done for my Mom," replies Sharon, "It's the Keys". And Indeed it is. Ahhh, the Keys, I'm feeling warmer already. The Florida Keys were a magical time and place for Sharon and Susan. They walked and talked the beaches, the mangroves, Duval Street, sunsets at Mallory Square, and on, and on, and they lunched together under the palms and sipped Margaritas in warm caressing breezes. For all of us, the Keys are an earthly paradise. For Sharon and Susan, The Keys forge an indestructible link that bonds them eternally.
The breakwater we walk forms a protective harbor for the shipping channel that connects Muskegon Lake to Lake Michigan. Muskegon State Park where Susan and I camped is just the other side of the channel. Susan and I walked the length of the channel along a sidewalk. It was hard for her. Our goal was the green navigation sign at the end of the channel. We made it all the way. It was our last walk together. I look across the channel at the green navigation sign. It tells boaters that they should be on this side of the channel if they are going out into the lake. The red lighthouse at the end of the breakwater that we are on signifies "Red, Right, Return," which I recall from my Keys boating days. Yes Susan, today we are returning.
Wrapped in our new used popup camper in sandy Muskegon State Park astride beautiful Muskegon Lake on that late August day just last year Susan talked with Sharon on her cellphone. They talked a long time, for there was much to say. So much had happened since the Keys. And in this place on that day they reforged their bond. Susan cried and hugged the phone when their conversation ended. I cried. Sharon's back.
Beyond the Red Lighthouse at the End of the Road Sharon releases Susan's ashes into the water and into the sky. She pours ashes into her hand and sprinkles them gently. She pours ashes into Chuck's hand and Chuck releases them into the water. She pours ashes into the hands of her sons and they hurl them, faces beaming, out over the boundless lake. The boys wipe their hands off on Grandpa's shirt. I welcome the boyish irreverence in their expression of love. Everyone is feeling good. The chill in the air is gone.
The path back ends on a beach capped by large sand dunes that invite everyone to play. Sharon, Garrett and Elijah run up and down the dunes, jumping, falling, rolling, covering themselves in sparkling sand, filling their lungs with the bright Muskegon air. Chuck suggests we all get ice cream, so we pile back into the car and Chuck zooms us off to the more urbanized part of Muskegon. Back at the Red Lighthouse a delicate sweetness luffs over the swells, and the water spirits tiptoe ever so delicately across the waves.
Wishing you many gravity defying, hair-raising adventures,
Stan
