Living in Two Worlds

By Steve Goldman
Sun contributor
“Dad? How much longer?”
For what seems like the millionth time, I try to patiently answer the question. “We’re in Cadillac, we’ve got another hour and a half,” or “we’re at M-37, so we’ve got another hour” have become stock answers over the years as I attempt to reassure my kids that the length of the drive won’t kill them.

Surprisingly, though, that question is being asked less and less often in the past couple of years. For, as my kids even have to admit, Up North has become our second home.
When I was their age, my parents brought our family up to Traverse City several times. The first view of the Bay as we approached the city always appeared like magic before me: vivid blues and greens that I never saw anywhere else, the clean, sharp breezes that seemed magical in their ability to cleanse the spirit and the land. My family always seemed more relaxed on vacation in TC, as if a spell had lifted the burdens of our daily routines from our shoulders.
As I got older, though, the trips became fewer and fewer, and several years passed until I got the opportunity again to come Up North. Now in my residency after medical school, I was given the opportunity to help teach at a weekend course at The Homestead. Leelanau County was new to me, since my family trips Up North didn’t extend too far west of Traverse City. As my girlfriend of many years (now my wonderful wife and mother to our two girls) and I explored the area, it was like falling in love all over again. Not just with each other, but with the beauty and peacefulness that surrounded us. Over the next several years we would return for a weekend or two each summer.
Time flew by, and we became parents. Still, Up North gently tugged at us, beckoning us to return again and again. We began to bring our children to visit areas that we had grown to love. They started to ask when they could go Up North to play on the beach or swim in the pool. We explored beaches and woods, and watched beautiful sunsets. Their rock collections grew larger, although, to this day, they mysteriously haven’t found any Petoskey stones to add to their small quarries.
Up North was becoming our refuge. When times were tough, the magic blanket of Up North never failed to renew our faith in ourselves and each other. Finally, we decided to look for property. It was late summer of 2001, and we decided to purchase a small piece of property in our favorite Up North place, Glen Arbor. We secured a loan, and filled out the papers. We were going to finally do it!
Then, the world came crashing down. It was Sept. 11, 2001, and we needed to get our papers mailed. The world was insane that day, and we needed to choose, quickly, before the deal fell through. Like so many others on that day, we chose to live our dream, to look toward the future.
We mailed the papers.
A few months later, we took our children to the lot and showed them our surprise: we would build our own place Up North. I’ll never forget the look of surprise and glee on their faces, or the feeling in my heart as we stood together on the lot where we would build the place of our dreams.
Now, as we commute back and forth from downstate to our place of refuge, I realize that we have chosen to live in two worlds. Hectic schedules, work and school melt away into peaceful times. Traffic jams become figments of our imaginations as we drive down country roads. Old friends beckon us downstate while new friends are made Up North. And music … wonderful folk music that has no home downstate draws us to taverns and decks in warmer weather.
And thankfulness for a place of refuge. We are blessed with two homes, two wonderful communities while halfway around the world tsunamis destroy entire worlds. The irony of our good fortune always reminds me to say how blessed and lucky we are to have our places to live and dream.
Eventually, we will move into our Up North house permanently. We continue to drive back and forth between our two worlds, yet I see that our attachment to Up North grows stronger each year while our desires to cope with the stresses of our other world lessens. Up North has taken hold of our hearts and souls, beckoning us to join her, to allow her to wrap us in the magic I have known since I was my childrens’ ages.
“Dad? How much longer?” now has a new meaning.