Nicole Brewer — On Leonard Street... Or Beyond

If the child version of me had a dream house, this would have been it… my Grandma Florence’s little green house on Leonard Street in Grand Rapids, Michigan.

It’s where I spent my first three years of life and where I’d continue to come “home” for holidays, summers, celebrations and sadly a few family tragedies. With twelve families in the mix, it was always at or above capacity, which meant you’d be sandwiched on the sofa, wedged in a corner or on occasion, find your eight-year-old self eating Christmas dinner in the bathroom. The idea is less than appetizing now, but at the time, all that mattered was being hidden away with my favorite cousins, eyes rolling each time someone knocked on the door to actually use the facilities.

Life on Leonard Street with my brother Dan and sister Vicky — In between my brother and sister in Grandma’s backyard on Easter Sunday

Me and a few of my favorite cousins on Grandma’s steps

By day things were bustling, but at night it was often just us and Grandma sprawled out in front of the living room TV, watching Johnny Carson re-runs or game shows into the wee hours of the morning. I don’t know that we ever talked about anything important, but there was an intimacy that came with sleeping in the same room and always an abundance of affection. As a kid, I’d cry for two days leading up to my departure, tears still streaming as my grandma followed our car on foot, her waving hand slowly consumed by the space between. Decades later, that kind of goodbye isn’t physically possible and with deteriorating health, the heartache of parting ways cuts deeper. Still, our latest farewell was no time to confront those realities. Instead, we huddled together, hands clasped, and I did for my grandma what she had done so many times for me. I looked ahead with hope to our next meeting. “Maybe springtime, Grandma,” I said. On Leonard Street or beyond.