My favorite place, Ann Arbor, my grandparents’ house. I go once or twice a year, my whole life.
I imagine the smell of the turkey on Thanksgiving Day, prepared by grandma. I imagine the smell of grandpa’s old books, all over the house.
Their house reminds me of happy; a peaceful meadow, a break from life.
In Michigan, it gets really cold in the winter. The cold bites at you like a wild wolf. But it’s all worthwhile if the snow comes. The snow is magic; a Christmas song.
Michigan football games. One of 110,000 fans. You’re on a huge roller coaster.
No idea if your team will win or lose, but the memory of Michigan is what counts.
