Karen shared with me every home she had. It began on Cottonwood Drive in Wheaton. My mom needed childcare and had gotten Karen’s name from a mutual friend. Despite the fact that she did not know my mom, and was not really looking to take care of someone else’s child, she decided to open her home to me. At the age of 2, I began to spend time in Karen’s home on a regular basis. It is from this home that I began to develop my earliest, deepest friendship and some of my dearest relationships. Karen’s home became one of my favorite places to be as a child. It was a place of welcome and acceptance. A place of chaos and fun. A place where as a single child, I could imagine and taste the companionship of siblings. As the friendship between my mom and Karen grew, Karen included us in each and every holiday celebration. With these celebrations, I took to heart many time honored family traditions, both intentional and casual. To this day, I feel a strong compulsion to document my children’s lives on video camera. We decorate Christmas cookies and open pajamas on Christmas Eve. I reuse the same Easter baskets for my kids each year. We host 4th of July parties and I covet seeing the fireworks. I still sing out loud to every Madonna song that I hear. I macramé. And I love going to Michigan every summer……
“The Wren” is Karen’s summer home in Harbert, Michigan. It was built by her father. It was too old, too small, and too crowded. It was absolutely fantastic! It was the only vacation my mom and I ever got to take, and there was nowhere else I would rather go. After sleeping the night on a folding cot on the enclosed porch, the days began with donuts and pastries from the Swedish bakery just up the street. Some days there’d be blueberry picking to do, or we’d be dragged along with our moms to go shopping at each and every one of the antique stores along Red Arrow Highway. After a long morning of shopping, we might grab lunch at the gas station or stop at the old fashioned ice cream parlor that was part of the pharmacy in Sawyer. Sometimes a group of us kids were allowed to ride the rusted, ill-fitted bikes up to the fruit market or Honeycuts grocery store on our own. On our way back, we would take shortcuts through the woods and stop by the ponds to try and find frogs. In the evenings, it was very well understood that showers needed to be short! There was usually a big discussion among the adults about how to handle dinner. A regular treat was eating at Redamax in New Buffalo followed by ice cream at Oinks. But many dinners were made as one big family at the cottage. These dinners were often very late. A bonfire was usually started in the lot beyond the cottage. This is where I learned how to make a damn good smore. As I got older, I can recall many late nights playing cards and games that mark the American childhood – Ghost in the Graveyard, Truth or Dare…..And on more than one occasion, after the adults had had too much to drink, we found ourselves skinny dipping after hours down at the Harbert beach!
For me, the best part of the daytime was going to the beach. It was close enough to walk, but we preferred to ride our bikes or take the car. I would always anticipate that first glimpse of the water as I started down the sandy path to the water. The beach was a different size every year depending on the tide. We spent hours under the sun and in the water every day. This is where I learned to swim, fought the waves, and stood on a sandbar for the first time. We’d search for shells and pretty rocks, walk the shore, and build sand castles. And in the mist of these thrilling, fun, long, exhausting days, there would be moments of stillness. We would lie on our beach towels “tanning” ourselves. I would doze off with the sun warming my face, the wind and surf in my ear, and the shifting of sand beneath my body. With the love of family and friends, and the beauty of nature and creation surrounding me, those moments brought forth a feeling of closeness to God.
These days, I have my own home that I share with my husband and 2 kids. My mom and I still take trips to Michigan where we enjoy staying at the home of Karen’s daughter in nearby Three Oaks. But there was one home that Karen and I continued to share – Faith Lutheran Church in Glen Ellyn, IL. It was Karen’s invitation the brought me to the church home that I still have today. In my earliest memories, I can see myself sitting with my mom, Karen, and her kids in the back left pews of the church. Today, I still sit with my mom, but now my husband and kids also share the pews with me. Despite my son’s success at having us sit in different pews each week, Karen’s back left hand side of the sanctuary is where I will always feel most at home. When I was married at Faith Lutheran, Karen was one of our readers, and her daughter was my Maid of Honor. When my first child was baptized, we appointed Karen as the official congregational ‘witness,’ while another of her daughters became Michael’s godmother. I watched my mother married at Faith Lutheran. Two weeks after Karen’s passing, I accepted the nomination to serve on the Congregational Council. She was the first person I longed to share this news with. Most important of all, she brought me to the home where I have grown in my spirituality and closeness to God.
The ‘homes’ that Karen shared with me and the people who have filled them, have shaped my life in so many wonderful ways. I try to carry forth her legacy by opening my homes to others in love the way she did for me. I try to welcome my children’s friends to our home as much as I can. I try to invite family and friends to attend worship with me. I try to stay close to the love ones that Karen brought to my life. Karen Van Plew will live on in my heart and continue to shape my life forever.
