Life Posts — Michigan Street

We all have those places where we find some solace, where memories come flooding back, where just for a little while things slow down and we feel at peace in our world. Those places may have history or may be new to us. Sometimes magical and special moments occur in those places. Often, we can just sit and “be.” One of mine lies just two blocks down the hill from the house I grew up in, on Michigan Street in Marquette. The street ends at a small park on the shores of Lake Superior. There lies McCarty’s Cove where you will find the Marquette Harbor Lighthouse and one of the Big Lake’s finest beaches.

Recently I was back home for a graduation celebration for a very special young woman who is part of a wonderful family I have known for many years. It was one of those Upper Peninsula days that can’t make up its mind if it wants to be truly spring or wants to mimic November for a spell. The party was on the lake and at the end of the afternoon a beautiful rainbow stretched across the lower harbor. We all looked to the east and my friend, who had lost his father a few years ago, looked up and stated that clearly his Dad was making an appearance at the party. I am quite certain that is exactly what that rainbow signified.

Lower Harbor - Marquette, Michigan June 1, 2024 G. Stevens

I left the party as it was winding down and headed north on the lakeshore. By dusk it was calm, the lake was flat and you could see that the sun was going to make a brilliant apperance before it set. I decided to stop at the cove and just sit for awhile. There was no one there, just me, the lighthouse, and that beautiful body of water. The sun did come out, a slight mist drifted off the lake, and that is when it happened.

The most majestic and spectacular rainbow I had ever seen appeared and arched over the lighthouse. Then, a second appeared above it. I was struck with awe and of course I habitually reached for my phone. I took one picture. My phone died. There was no charge. Cell phone dead. Pause. Message received. There would be no multiple shots and no videos of those rainbows. There was no digital connection, just a real one. Just be.

So I walked down to the water and I stood under the rainbows. I just took it all in, and as I looked around I realized I was still the only person there. But I didn’t feel like it was just me. I felt the higher power that does exist over and in our world, and I felt the presence of my Mom.

I knew I was meant to just absorb the moment and immerse myself in the experience. The rainbows literally shimmered in the sky and I thought to myself this is not only a “God shot,” it’s also a not so subtle reminder to be more present in life. I got my one photo and it was enough. I also have a very vivid memory of looking up to see the colors and beauty of that rainbow. Through the passage of time and in our cultures, rainbows mean many things. They certainly signify love, happiness, promise and acceptance. They are messages of hope from someone who has left us or from a guardian angel. I know she was sending me a message to slow down, be more present and always hold onto hope for the moments and days that lie ahead.

The past couple of weeks I have really been thinking about the overload of information, digital media, and overscheduling we have in our lives. I have very conciously been trying to minimize my screen time, exposure to the noise of social media, and have been trying to listen and look around more. Can we just shut off our phones and ignore them? No. It is a part of our daily life. It connects us, it helps us manage our lives, it provides us with information and so much more. But we are far to digitally connected. I just finished reading “The Anxious Generation: How the Great Rewiring of Childhood Is Causing an Epidemic of Mental Illness” by Jonathan Haidt. I highly recommend it, but be prepared to be concerned and disturbed. I will cut to the chase and share 4 recommendations he makes for society. “No smartphones before high school. No social media before 16. Phone-free schools. Far more unsupervised play and childhood independence.”

I contrast how I grew up with how younger generations are today. Back in the day we may have called our friends on the rotary dial phone to see what they were doing that day, but invariably we would just meet up at places like the Ohio Street Park to play knock-hockey, tetherball and if we could muster enough kids we would have a game of kickball in the field next to Parkview Elementary School. Those days still happen for today’s youth, but they seem to be few and far between and are two often replaced by the isolation of the phone in one’s bedroom looking at a world that is driven by algorithms and the hope for “Likes” and digital approval. But it’s not just kids. It is society as a whole. We are buried in our phones on a 3-floor elevator ride, we are distracted while driving, and we are simply just not present enough to listen and absorb what is right in front of us, what people are telling us, what the moment is trying to teach us.

I recently heard the comedian Bill Burr on Neil Brennan’s Blocks podcast. (Bill Burr • Blocks w/ Neal Brennan (spotify.com)) He was talking about signs and messages we receive in life IF we are listening and how he acts on them. He said “when I get an answer to something, I don’t doubt it. I go with it.” That evening at McCarty’s Cove, that rainbow, my mom, it was telling me to slow down, stop to smell the flowers more and to just simply be more in the moments that make up our lives. Don’t doubt it I heard. Go with it.

I take a lot of pictures. Those who know me, know I take a lot of pictures! But sometimes we just need one and we need to be in the moment. That night at the cove, I just needed one. That is what I was given. The cell phone is part of our lives, we just can’t let it take OVER our lives. We need to listen more to those in front of us. We also need to listen more to the views and opinions of others. As Stephen Covey famously said: “Most people do not listen with the intent to understand; they listen with the intent to reply.” There is an awful of shouting and “replying” in our world. It is unsettling at times. So, we need to remove ourselves from it, listen more, and maybe turn off and tune in to our surroundings more.

When I got back downstate last week I saw two more rainbows. One over the city of Detroit and one the very next day. That morning, I got in my car to head to work and when my iPhone sync’d with the car a song immediately and indiscriminately came on. (I still need to figure out how to turn that “feature” off!) But this particular morning a song connected that was not a coincidence, it was a message. I have no idea how this song came on, but I do know why. The song that came on in the car, and yes this really did happen, was Israel Kamakawiwo’ole’s version of Somewhere Over the Rainbow.” (OFFICIAL Somewhere over the Rainbow - Israel "IZ" Kamakawiwoʻole (youtube.com)) Oh believe me, I sat and stayed in the moment.

This morning, as I write this, it is one year ago today that my Mom left us from this world. But those that depart, never leave us. Their presence is always with there. Their spirit lives on. And they do visit us and send us messages of hope and love. Today is also Father’s Day. Some don’t have their Dad with them. Some are spending the whole day with them. I am lucky to still have mine, and this year I have an incredibely beautiful and special grandson too. It’s a good day to be in the moments and to remember good times too.

So go to your “happy places” more. Listen more. Receive the subtle and not so subtle double rainbow messages those that care about you are sending to you. Put the phone away, but also use it to connect for all the right reasons. Take that picture. Shoot a short video. Send that text. Make that call. Use them for positive impacts and to share good things, special things and maybe just to check in with someone who needs it. They might just need one.

Today, September 1st, is my mom’s birthday. It’s the first one without her. The urge to call her, to go see her, to find her is there, but she isn’t present here in this world. But thankfully and gratefully her presence will always be felt.

The day after my Mom passed was a day like absolutely no other in my life. I wondered how many days had she been with me, there for me, always present. From February 23, 1965 to June 16, 2023 I had her with me for 21,298 days. We were actually together for longer because she carried me and cared for me for those 40 weeks before she brought me breathing into the world.

Then, that morning the day after she left us, she wasn’t there anymore. There were only memories swirling and thousands of pictures to pour over. When you were young and you couldnt find her at the playground or the store that sense of panic and loneliness would seize you. Then she would find you, and take your hand and all would be fine with your world. That morning after, I could not go find her and hear her voice. This was a loss and loneliness I had never known.

I knew the day was coming. She had a terminal illness, one she absolutely never complained about. She faced it with the same class, dignity and resolve I saw my entire life. It really was remarkable. She was ready to “come home” as she told me a few weeks before she passed. I didn’t want to hear that, but I knew deep down it was coming. We hoped we had until Christmas, maybe into next year but it wasn’t to be. In fact I have said to many of you that I understood that the “circle of life” was happening to me.

What I didn’t know was how many of you have gone through this process of loss, the overhelming sadness and that feeling of just being “lost” because the one you could always count on was just not physically there for you anymore. Two special friends lost their mothers in the last couple of weeks. Several of you shared with me at our class reunion last month that you have been through losing your mom, your dad, a sibling or relative just recently or in the past. You had words of comfort for me, and you told me to hold onto all of those good memories and know in your heart that you will see her again. Thank you. I am very grateful to all of you and I want the very same for you - to know she made you, she molded you, and that you will see her again.

I wrote this to help myself move through the “process” of loss. A very good friend I have met through the business world sent me this book “It’s OK Not to be OK.” HIs wife was tragically taken from him just a couple of years ago and I have watched and admired him for the life he has chosen to keep on living and appreciating. I can only imagine what he has been through and how he misses her. Just like I could only imagine what all of you had expereinced when your Mom was not there anymore. Now I know how you feel, and I feel for you too.

I wrote this to thank all of you for being the special friends and support that you are. I also wrote this to those of you who miss your loved ones and who are dealing with the very recent pain of losing your Mom or loved ones. Know that others will help you be “ok.”

Most importantly I wrote this to honor and remember my mom. She accomplished so much. She truly made a difference in so many lives. She made me who I am today. A very special friend wrote this to me a couple of days after she passed and I think it encapsulates so much of what I try to feel about her, to remember about her and what I know about my Mom.

“In high school, she always seemed like the perfect mom to me. She was so proud of you. She was always interested to talk to me, in the way I recognize now is special between adults and teens. She took what we were doing seriously-even if it was prom decorating. That kind of listening and attention makes a young person feel heard and it is a precious gift an adult can give to someone finding their way. I really appreciate that your mom saw us young adults as whole people.”

A few weeks before she passed, on a Sunday afternoon, we watched two movies together. Her favorite, “Casablanca” and my favorite “The Cider House Rules.” She loved that I wanted to watch “Casablanca” and I loved that she loved “The Cider House Rules.” It was was a truly special day together. So, please watch a movie with your Mom. Please call a loved one, a friend or someone who you think just might need a word of encouragement today. Help someone find their voice. Just listen to someone who needs to be heard. That’s what Moms do. There are thousands of days we have together, and then there is a day when we don’t. As the saying goes, “Don’t count the days. Make the days count.”

Happy Birthday Mom. At the playground, on the other side, I know you will find me again.

Betty Stevens was a longtime resident of Marquette and East Lansing, Michigan. She was a teacher, principal, superintendent, volunteer, friend and a truly special person and wonderful Mom, Betty Lou Stevens Obituary (tributearchive.com)

The Author: Glenn Stevens Jr., Glenn@MichiganStreet.org