I've always had a soft spot in my heart for Minnesota.
When I was young, Minnesota had an almost mythical presence in my life. You see, Minnesota was the place my grandparents and uncle went for nearly two weeks every August or September. (With a bit of time spent in western Wisconsin as well.) They would spend a week visiting as many of Grandma's relatives as possible. The other week was devoted to fishing at one of the 10,000 lakes in that grand state.
I remember eagerly awaiting their return for there would be fun gifts and sweatshirts from the lake and surrounding area, summer sausage from a butcher shop in Norwood (I think), and a multitude of photographs of scenery, big fish, and lots of relatives. If there was one thing that side of my family likes to do, it is take photos. (I got my first camera – a Brownie – when I was about five years of age.)
And let's not forget the stories. All Lake Woebegone jokes aside, I was in awe of what wonderful relatives I had in Minnesota. Why judging from the stories my grandparents and uncle told of their excursions to Minnesota, my great-aunts, great-uncles, and cousins were quite wonderful, indeed!
My first trip to Minnesota (at least the first one I remember) was the summer I turned eight. I was a little bummed because we wouldn’t be home so I could have friends over for a party, but I was getting to travel to magical Minnesota, so that made up for it. Three things stand out in my mind from that trip. The first was that no matter the time of day, when we went to someone’s home to visit, we had to eat a little something or risk offending our host/hostess. And regardless of whether it was breakfast, a mid-afternoon visit, or a bedtime snack, there was ALWAYS chocolate cake, which to this day is my favorite! The second thing I remember vividly was that my Great-Uncle Oswald’s birthday was the day before mine. We happened to be staying on his farm at that point, so of course, we had to have a big birthday bash for the two of us! The third memory was of all the kittens on the farm that I played with, even though I was horribly allergic to cats at the time.
The next time I was in Minnesota was when I was a senior in high school. My folks and I had gone to Des Moines, Iowa, to check out Drake University. (I had some strange notion that I wanted to go there, but it was much too snooty and elitist for me!) Once we were done with the tour, Dad decided that since we were so “close” to Minnesota – everything is relative…no pun intended – we should pop on up on a Saturday afternoon and visit. He called my Great-Aunt Emma, who invited us to stay with them for the night. Even though we were last minute guests, the chocolate cake mysteriously appeared at the eating of a little something before going to bed! The next morning, we were on our way back to Kansas, but I was filled with all the warm fuzzies that my Minnesota relatives always seemed to provide.
I don’t believe I went back to Minnesota until well after I was out of college. After all, I was busy getting my career started and enjoying the freedom of living on my own. My grandparents had already passed and my uncle had quit going on the visiting and fishing excursions. So in the early 1990s, we all – my parents, my uncle, and I – decided that we should head north and visit the kinfolk. We visited all over the Arlington-Glencoe-Gaylord area. We visited the Twin Cities. We visited Hudson, Wisconsin. We even visited River Falls, Wisconsin. I even have a cheesy photo of Mom and I standing in front of the sign at what was at the time the Kansas City Chiefs’ summer training camp site.
I’m so glad we made that trip. The next year, my uncle passed and the family got a bit smaller.
During that trip, we heard that the Minnesota relatives had started having family reunions. We got on the list for the next one, which was a couple of years later. So with the exception of last year, every other year was our trip north for the family reunion and more visiting. Sadly, we’ve also started going to Minnesota to pay our respects to loved ones who have passed, which brings me to the present.
Last Thursday, my parents and I loaded luggage, beverages, and snacks into Red and once again headed for the Land of 10,000 Lakes. This time was for my Cousin Carol’s memorial service. You see, Carol died a week ago – just a few days shy of her 68th birthday – after a very brief, yet intense battle with cancer. Blessedly for her, she didn’t have to suffer long, but for those she left behind, her last days with us were much too short.
No matter the situation, Carol did her best to help others feel a little better about themselves. When I was a little girl, Carol would always try to make me laugh. As I got older, I found Carol to be wealth of family history. A couple of years ago, when just off the road we walked into my cousin Eleanor’s visitation at the funeral home, there was Carol, identifying distant relatives for us and trying to ease our sadness a bit with stories about which relative was doing what these days. She also was quite proud of her children and grandchildren always gave us updates and showed us photos.
I thought about all of this as we were driving back to Kansas late Saturday afternoon after the memorial service. It always makes me a little sad when we drive past the “Thanks for Visiting Minnesota” sign at the southern state line. The sadness was a little deeper when we drove by it after Eleanor’s funeral a couple of years ago and again on Saturday after Carol’s memorial service. Maybe the sign should read “Thanks for Visiting Minnesota and Leaving a Piece of Your Heart Here.”
