06/05/2007

Generation Why

Finding home, and soul, deep in Canada

Mother's small hometown is daughter's refuge

By Alexis Palmquist

Special to the Record-Eagle

Deep in the heart of Canada, there is a tiny town on the border of a majestic lake, tucked away in God's pocket. The sharp whistle of the train pulling through town splits the clear night air. It rumbles rhythmically down the tracks, leaving a soft, sleepy silence in its wake.

Despite its lifeless appearance, there are memories here that keep this town alive. Down the main road walk the shadows of those who once lived here, as each day the town breaths in cool air off the wide, smooth lake.

The souls of my family, both past and present, reside here. This town is Missanabie, where my mother grew up, surrounded by her parents, grandparents, brothers and sisters. This town is where we come each summer, to remember.

Those who make the trip each year come to clear the graves of my great-grandparents and my grandmother. We pull weeds, plant roses and evergreen trees and leave a bouquet of flowers bound together atop the graves.

But we also come for ourselves, because if there's one place in the world that is seemingly untouchable, it is here. Missanabie is an hour's drive from the nearest town, television, radio, computer or even cell phone. No calls go in or out, and there is nothing to entertain us but puzzles, the lake, our own imaginations and one short road through town.

On one side of the road are the train tracks, where as kids we laid coins on the rails and waited for the train to flatten them into keepsakes. On the other side of the road are the town's four buildings — three are barely standing. There is the old general store, and the house my mom and her siblings grew up in, the old Hudson Bay Training Post, and the Hotel, which my great-grandmother, and then my grandparents, once owned.

For better or for worse, this town belongs to us, and the memories belong here.

I've been coming here since before I can remember. This place, although I have never lived here, has become my home, a place where I belong. Late in the summer, we come here, before school starts, before real life has to happen all over again. I come here to relax, cool down, dream, explore my thoughts and examine my life's changes.

Missanabie, although unstable and unkempt, to me, is something directly from a fairytale: The clear sky and smooth lake hold more of my secrets, wishes, fears, dreams and tears than any friend. No matter how I feel before I arrive, I leave Missanabie feeling loved, treasured, safe and confident.

I am lucky to have found a place that never changes, that welcomes with open skies and that holds so much for me. Missanabie is always right because here there are no questions, no uncertainties, no doubts: there are only answers, conviction and assurances. It's as if life on the outside stands still, and I am left sitting on the edge of a long dock, feeding the ducks and feeling every confusion fall into the lake like rain.

All the while, the heart of Missanabie pours into my soul, and I am right again.

Alexis Palmquist is a senior at Traverse City West High School.