Saginaw, Michigan is my hometown. I couldn’t wait to move away from there, which I accomplished in 1980. I never looked back.

I return periodically for weddings or funerals or family reunions – always enjoying the few days I spend with family. But this trip was to be much longer. Eight nights in total. And it would be my first airline flight since last July when I was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. At that time, I’d made a natural assumption that I’d be sick, or weak, or infirm – and that traveling any distance would be ill-advised. But I’ve weathered this health challenge remarkably well – and I’ve been SO ready to hit the road again.

If not for family, Michigan in March would not have been my first choice of destination. Mid-March in mid-Michigan = mud season. Following is a (mostly) chronological account of my adventures . . .

Thursday, March 16 – LAX to Detroit

I departed home at 6:15 AM for my 9 AM flight. Some people (cough, Gabriel, cough) would say that I have a bad habit of cutting it too close (to which I confess, has happened at times), but this time I got to the gate with plenty of time (30+ minutes) to spare. I wore a face mask during flight since my chemo nurse had suggested that my immunity level was seriously low. (I wasn’t too worried about this since three of my employees have been sick and I stayed healthy.)

Upon exiting the airport in Detroit, my first impression? Cars are really dirty here. And it’s really cold here.

My shuttle driver to the Radisson airport hotel, Oday, is an Iraqi who immigrated here 24 years ago. I’m his only passenger on this run and we have a delightful conversation. His daughter is in med school and he loves this country. I resist the urge to ask his opinion of Trump’s travel ban.

Friday, March 17 – Motown, meet-up with BFF, greet arrivals from Japan – and on to Battle Creek

Happy St. Patrick’s Day! At the advice of my brother, Ron, I visit the Motown Museum. Interesting, but I wouldn’t rave about it as highly as he did. I drive around a few neighborhoods and see neglect and abandon but no packs of wild dogs roaming the streets, as I’d read somewhere.

Then I head off to meet my high-school best friend at a restaurant. She texted “12 and Woodward.” I type that into my iPhone map program and proceed to drive into downtown Detroit – literally. I see the Renaissance Center, Comerica Park (baseball stadium) and Ford Field (football stadium). I can see across the Detroit River to Canada. I see evidence of some trendy shops. I also notice that there is very little traffic in the heart of downtown. (I’m definitely not in LA!) When I reach the final location plotted on my iPhone map – there’s no such restaurant. Whoops – I realize that her reference to ’12’ is 12 Mile, not 12th Street.

Redirecting me, I’m 20 minutes late for my lunch date with Sheila in Royal Oak. We try to remember the last time we saw each other – but finally give up and dive into the details of our respective loves and lives. She’s brought a photo album from our days at Delta College and as apartment roommates when we attended Western Michigan University in Kalamazoo. LOTS of liquor and beer bottles in those photos. Yes – I did imbibe, but would never be accused of being a party girl. For a short time in college, I smoked cigarettes because I thought I looked cool. To this day, I still thank a friend for telling me, “You look ridiculous with a cigarette.”

Sheila’s distinctive high-pitched laugh has not changed since those carefree college days. We laugh about her blurry photos: was she drunk or just a lousy photographer? We recall how we thought we were fat and ugly back then – and how thin and cute we look in the photos. Ahhh, if we’d only known then what we know now . . .

We discuss which friends are dead and who ended up with who. We wonder aloud, “Whatever happened to Robo – and Fred – and Dave Schuler?” Fittingly, many of the photos were from our wild and crazy St. Patrick’s Day celebrations – not that we needed an excuse to party. There were incriminating photos from ski trips, Halloween parties, and WMU weekends. We shared some fun times!

Three hours of non-stop chatter passes all too quickly, and it’s time to say goodbye with promises to see each other more often. She’s off to pick up her grandkids from elementary school and I’m off to pick up my brother and niece at Detroit Airport, arriving from Japan. My timing is perfect – I’m waiting as they exit the Immigration/Customs area. After hugs, kisses and a couple of photos – we pile in the rental car and head west on I-94 toward Battle Creek.

Seiko had requested a sunroof, which I point out to her as I drive. “Does it open?” she asks.

“Of course it does,” I assure her, as I press the button which opens the sunroof to the falling snow – which she tries to catch with her tongue. “Except that here in Michigan, they call it a ‘snow roof’!” She’s almost too tired to laugh at her Favorite Aunt Marilyn’s joke.

The two-hour drive to Battle Creek gives them time to doze and we arrive at the home of my brother, Bob, and his wife Laurie at about 7 PM.

We catch up about family goings-on, accompanied by craft beer, homemade pizza, and Caesar salad. After dinner, Bob hauls out the old hockey game he and Ron used to play in the basement. That thing is almost 50 years old! My brother’s reflexes are not what they were back in their adolescence.

Saturday, March 18 – On to Rockford for shopping and dancing

We bid adieu to Bob and Laurie and drive west on the rural backroads, past tidy farmhouses, aging red barns, and Dollar General stores – one in every small town we pass through. This really is a different world!

Rockford, near Grand Rapids, is home to my niece, Jennifer, with her husband, Darrin, and their four kids: Justin (21), Maddie (16), Lauren (14) and Alex (7). Seiko and the girls go down to the basement playroom to play Just Dance for Wii. This is not new technology, but it’s new to me. Two players hold a controller and follow the dance steps of a cartoon character on the screen. I choose the song, “Istanbul (Not Constantinople)” and weave, shimmy and boogie to that catchy tune. Despite being a novice player, having cancer, and being 62 years old, I manage to beat my 14-year old niece! Quite possibly she let me win, but it feels pretty good!

Only two days into my Michigan Adventure, the family visits have been absolutely amazing. I am truly blessed to have this opportunity for these rich and rewarding one-on-one visits.

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Last month, I wrote a prequel to this blog – in anticipation of my visit. Here’s a link to that story: Going Home … to a place that’s worlds away

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Stay tuned for Part 2 … featuring anecdotes about an indoor swimming pool, Cops & Doughnuts, Saginaw, my childhood home, my mother’s childhood home, high school peeps, Spatz’ bread – and family, family and more family!

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