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Father-in-Law's Hometown, Wisconsin
June 29 to July 2
Coming to the Midwest is a bit like arriving in a parallel universe. Things look familiar, but other things seem pretty strange.
We arrived at O'Hare just after 4pm Sunday, met up with my husband's sister & her step-daughters, and all 8 of us caravaned (literally, there was a monster-sized van involved) up to a small town in South-Western Wisconsin.
We had planned to stop along the way at one of these "Oasis" places. A McDonald's restaurant built on an overpass, suspended over the highway, with a gas station to boot. However, the one we'd planned on visiting was closed for renovations, so we ended up at a Cracker Barrel. Ever since I'd heard of these (an ad in some magazine a few years back), I've wanted to eat at one. The food was pretty yummie, the "shopping" was overrated. I'm just not that country, I guess. At least not when it comes to home decorations...
We reached our destination just before 10pm, catching a bit of a fireworks display someone was having at their farm. The first thing I did once I got in Husband's Uncle's house was walk right out the back door to watch the fireflies. I caught my first one, and I now know they're not really flies, but more like beetles. Whatever they are, they sure are pretty. No rabbits that first night.
The next day was really surprising, because I realized for the first time that Wisconsin is beautiful. I hadn't noticed that the last time I was there. We drove around the countryside, and even in the heat (mid 90s), everything was green and healthy looking. Plus, the house had a great view of the little valley containing the town (population 4600 + change) and the surrounding hills, covered in trees and bushes. When you're inside and the air conditioner is running, everything looks so peaceful and serene, it's hard to imagine that it's hot enough to wilt you outside.
Our last night there, we went to Sweetie's cousin's house for dinner. The cousin was actually out of town, so it was up to his wife and toddler daughter to entertain us. This woman has been in our family for almost exactly as long as I have (11 to my 12 years), so everyone felt just at home. And what a home it is! All new construction, it doesn't seem fancy on the outside, but inside it appears gigantic because of the large open spaces. Wood everywhere, they had an Amish carpenter come out to do their cabinets and other details. Only 3 bedrooms, but they're very big rooms, each with their own walk-in closet large enough to fit a child's tent in (I know, because that's what the toddler had set up in hers!). Then there were the two living rooms, humungous kitchen, and just this long, wide open area that on one end is the front foyer and the other serves as dining area leading to a deck.
Yet it was the backyard that had me dreaming. This cousin has a super-sweet lot on top of a hill that supposedly has views of the valley in winter when the trees shed their leaves. In mid-summer, those trees were thick with life. It was just so rural and peaceful, for the first time in my life I could see myself living somewhere out of the way. It was quite magical, in a way that's hard to explain.
It had to do with those trees, I think. I don't know what kind they are, kind of thin and tall and white, all crammed together, branches intermingling. Nothing like the pines that dominate the Pacific Northwest. Actually, I think these woods are the same as those we experienced in Missouri and the Ozarks back in '96. Where I first saw fireflies. And it looks exactly how Laurell K. Hamilton describes the area in her books. Some element of sex and magic from those books imprinted onto those trees in my mind, and I just found it so romantic.
Immediately after that, as we were pulling in to Uncle's driveway, I spied some rabbits chasing each other in someone else's lawn. I went out back to see if I could see any there. The rabbits had moved to another lawn that I could see from the back porch, so I just watched them running around for a bit. And then two more rabbits crossed the street from other lawns to join them. And then a 5th appeared out of nowhere. And they started heading right towards me! In fact, the one they all seemed to be chasing stopped about 5 feet away from me, and only then seemed to notice me, because it stopped, crouched really low, and tucked down it's ears as if it was trying to hide in plain sight from me. The other rabbits followed, and paused nearby. The weirdest thing about all this was that despite it being a chase, it was a jerky one. One would move, then stop, and they'd all be paused. Then another would get close, pause. Then another. When too many got close, the one they were chasing bounded off a short ways and then paused, as if letting them catch up.
When the lead rabbit came up to me, I was so surprised, because it was just RACING, going the longest distance in one sprint any of them had. Sometime between that minute when the first paused in front of me, and the 10 minutes after that it took them to run, pause, run, one-by-one, until they were hidden in the bushes, I realized there was probably only one good explanation. I've seen male ducks chase female ducks and try to rape them. I think that the lead rabbit was female and all the males wanted to rape her. Rape, because she sure was doing alot to stay away. And if these really were the same rabbits we saw when we pulled up, it went on for about a half hour from just what I saw. I tried to convince myself that it was just the Alpha Male, and the others were keeping respectful distances, hence all the getting closer followed by pauses. I'm not very good at convincing my paranoid self once a sinister image pops into my mind.
Another disturbing thing happened to me in Wisconsin. You see, I am very uncomfortable in places I don't know. I hate moving because of it. I hate going to people's houses for the first time because of it. When I was a girl, once I politely said I was "homesick" to get my parents to pick me up from a slumber party. The truth was, everything was so alien, I felt like I was going to be sick every moment I was there. The same thing happened that day we were driving around the backroads. I was fine in the open spaces. I thought it was beautiful and peaceful. But when we drove through this small, small town with run-down Victorian-ish homes and store fronts, gravel and dust everywhere, I thought I was going to throw up in the car. My fight-or-flight instincts were almost insurmountable, my pulse raised, sweat quickly accumulating on my forehead, arms, and pits. I think the only thing that saved me was that it was such a small "town", it took not even a minute to drive through. And once we reached open space again, I quickly calmed down.
What did *not* pass quickly was the visit with Sweetie's grandmother. I'm not sure how old she is, I would guess somewhere around 90, but a stroke sometime last year has really done alot of harm. Sweetie's father believes that his mother is more cognisant than she seems, because she really just has a hard time voicing her thoughts, putting things into words and speaking. That may be, but it's still sad. I don't do well around old people. I pretty much have a phobia about them, and a "retirement" home is pretty much nightmare-inducing for me. In some ways, the experience was better than I had thought it would be. She was dressed and her hair was done, she could smile and chuckle, she moved to look when you spoke, and she spoke a few words every now and then. Plus, the place was bright, decorated, and had a really big birdcage out front with a bunch of little birds that I can only guess were some sort of finch.
But the longer we were there, the worse it got. It started with the smell. There was this really annoying, flowery smell that when it first arrived in the room, was barely there, and then quickly overpowered everything. And then there was a urine smell under it occassionally. As if the flowery part had been used to cover up urine. I started to feel sick. But you keep on a happy face, for Grandma's sake. But then I started noticing little things. The way my Father-in-Law struggled to keep conversation flowing. The little crusty trail from her right eye. What looked like dried-blood at the end of some of her fingertips. The other patients that were much worse-off physically than she was that were being brought in for dinner.
I wanted to run from the room screaming. I just kept on that happy face. Because if they could endure the horror of it, I could. They didn't have the option of leaving. The least I could do was stick out my time with a brave front. And if I ran screaming from the building, they would probably know why, and it would be very demoralizing for them.
So I smiled. And tried to add to the conversation occassionally. And survived to walk out with my dignity. I hope everyone we left behind there still has there's, I really do.
