Does Getting What You Want Make You Happier?

This gym/cafeteria was subterranean? There was a bump out that is not pictured to the right where the kitchen was, and the milk coolers were where the 2 yellow tables are.

I always thought things would have turned out better if, at one critical juncture in time, my family had zigged instead of zagged. I never really had the ability to know this to be true, I just assumed this from age 11 until just recently. Now, come to find out, maybe not...

See, I grew up in a fairy tale. Or in a Laura Ingalls Wilder novel. With wishing wells and water wheels and orchards and bobwhites. And then, I moved. To Cleveland. Ohio. In 1979. Body hair. Body odor. Lots of stuff happening with the body. And, simultaneously, moody. This must be Cleveland's fault! So, Cleveland was thrown under the bus pretty quickly. But, there was a rural quality to where I lived, and some amenities, and it had an amazing amusement park just nearby. I mean, we saw license plates from MICHIGAN there in Cedar Point! MICHIGAN!

Fast forward one year. I get a 12th birthday card from someone in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Mom, do I know anyone in Grand Rapids, Michigan? Yes, Lin, your dad. Oh, huh... I guess I'll put it on the pile...

Now, fast forward a number of decades. My mother is sick and dying in Grand Rapids, Michigan. I am there for her last breath. A year later, I am back in the fairy tale, back in Walnut Grove. I am being taken over by my mother, completely. I can feel her entering my body and mind in the forest with the birds. I am healing.

My fairy tale had some scary elements that I glossed over. I made a scene in 3rd grade on the bus, and I have been fearing my anger ever since. That set me on a course of regret and mistakes that would take a lifetime to overcome. But, I had many models. First was Mom. And the second was Laura Ingalls.

There is a fine line, it turns out, between historic nostalgia, and, we need to be careful to not gloss over this, indoctrinating anachronisms. So, I thought my elementary was "homey colonial", which is true. It is also true that it is not well maintained.

Four-square behind them authentic from my era, at least

I think there used to be a mosaic here, past the library and the 6th grade classroom. Pied piper?

Those closets used to have doors and you would hide in there during games.

The sink where my BFF and I filled our mouths with water and then tried to talk.

Those stall door supports were just within reach if you stepped onto the toilets.

Flooring from at least my era. Probably 1930s.

Drainpipe now cordoned off, and I think it was then, too. But...

Hopscotch now painted instead of carved with a slate stone.

Okay, if there were hundreds of children outside nearly killing themselves, you probably wouldn't notice me at the top half of this drainpipe for a while, either

These were the first grade classrooms with a view towards the kindergarten?

A great wall to play rattlesnake on.

Right side of building.

This must be the kindergarten room. Bathroom door was thick oak. I sat at the table behind the cardboard. Other door went to 1st? Closet?

So, that hill with the orange cones and chain link fence? I'd pick up speed there and crash into the parked bus.

The view if you were leaving on the bus.

The gym? No idea.

In my day, those balls were made of actual, red rubber and were none too soft!

I ended up in a faraway land, pre-internet, pre-social media, back when we had to either write letters or make toll calls. I returned here exactly once, in between Cleveland and Grand Rapids. I felt I no longer belonged there and that I had abandoned my friends. We had all moved on in one short year. I had changed; they were still the same. My elementary school and my friends were stuck in time...

Then, my cousin took me back in the late 90s. She did a news report on a Christmas tree farm. I don't remember how we got there, we must have gone in backwards or something, but there I was, looking at the giant Christmas tree that we planted as a seedling. And then, finally, once again this year, Christmas tree now gone, key neighbors still there?!?! The house is renumbered. I met the owner, who was a young mother. I told her we used to keep baby birds and tadpoles in teacups in her garage. She humored me. Then, I moved on.

And now, I am reconnecting with people from those bicentennial days! And, you know what? Puberty was not Cleveland's fault. Finding one's way through life is hard, whether you stay in one place or move all around. Moodiness is not on Grand Rapids. It was just a convenient scapegoat.

I had a great childhood and I was very impressive as a girl. And things went down the way they did. I accept that now. It helped make me who I am, and I am quite impressive!