“This is the story of my family.”
Lauren stopped and turned the portrait toward the audience, three generations of women seated together at the end of a warped dock, their images in the foreground older, wiser, damaged but strong, while their reflections in the water were from their youth—younger, sadder, lost but hopeful.
“This is a story of home … of here.”
The crowd erupted in cheers, many standing to yell, “How much?” or “I want that.”
“I’m overwhelmed,” Arden said into Jake’s strong shoulder, as he drew her in. “I thought … I expected…”
“Then stop,” Jake said, as the crowd continued to cheer. “Expectations are just preconceived resentments.”
Arden pulled away, her face etched in surprise. “Let me guess? Not Deepak Chopra?”
“No,” Jake said. “Just a guy who has seen a lot of life and death. In the end, I think we all just want the same things: Family, happiness, love, faith.”
“I’ve always felt like the world was stacked against me,” Arden said.
“The world is stacked against everyone, Arden,” Jake said. “But now I’m here for you.”
He patted his shoulder, and Arden rested her head on it, as the emcee’s voice squeaked over the speakers.
“Last up,” the announcer said, “da Q and A.”
“I never made it this far,” Arden said.
“Really? I’m shocked. Your question could have been, ‘Is that the backstroke or the dog paddle?’” Jake teased, giving Arden a hug.
Arden melted into a puddle of laugher.
“My question to today’s contestants is this,” the emcee stated. “Name da most influential person in your life.”
Girl after girl responded: “Daddy,” “Jesus,” or “Tom Izzo, the Michigan State basketball coach.”
“Finally, Lauren Lindsey,” the emcee said, as the group of contestants stood on the platform over the river. “Please name da most influential person in your life.”
Lauren stepped to the mic in the middle of the stage, stared out over the river and then scanned the crowd.
She stopped and caught her breath. When she began again, her voice was as wavy as the current of the Scoops River.
“My grandmother,” she said. “Life has not always been easy on her: She’s lost everything and everyone, at one time, and yet she has somehow managed not only to survive but also to believe in the beauty of the world. She has remained an optimist. She has fun in this life, no matter what. I’ve learned that you can plan your life all you want, but you can’t control it. You have to dive headfirst into it, experience its joys and pains … you have to live … and then you have to share those stories with the ones you love before it’s too late.”
Lauren stopped and cleared her throat. Quiet enveloped the bleachers. Lauren could hear the wind float across the water, and, as it did, catch her charm bracelets and make them sing. She looked over at the ancient weeping willow, whose arms were sweeping in the river, singing in the breeze, joyously telling the secrets of its own past. Lauren smiled and said, “Grandma, would you join me on stage?”
Lolly—as bright as the sun—slowly made her way out to the platform. Lauren took her hand, and brought her into her body.
“This pageant has long been my grandmother’s dream. Her whole life, she’s supported everyone else’s dreams, sacrificed herself to make others happy. I wouldn’t be standing here today without her.”
Lauren hesitated but continued. “We need to take time to get to know our elders, because they have led lives we can barely imagine. I’ve come to appreciate that our elders—our grandmothers—are not only the pillars of our families, the charms in our lives, but also the bridges to our past and the steppingstones to our future. Today is not only for my grandmother, but for all the grandparents in the world who fought for all of us to have better lives.”
There was silence for a few seconds, before the crowd began to clap. That applause turned into a roar, and, quickly, the crowd was on its feet, screaming. Arden looked around: Many were wiping tears from their faces.
“That’s my daughter!” Arden began to yell, pointing toward the stage. “And that’s my mother! Lolly!”
As the applause died down and the judges began to deliberate, Arden looked up at the pines and the birch that circled the park, and she smiled. Arden could see her mother in those trees: They bent but never broke; they believed good days were to come in spite of the often bad weather; they loved the simplicity of nature and life; and they were always reaching toward heaven.
“What is it?” Jake asked.
“Is this what it’s like to be happy?” Arden asked.
Jake studied her face, uncertain of what she was asking.
“To just be in the moment?” she continued. “Not running or planning or working. Just enjoying this very second of life, without trying to perfect it, change it, or run from it?”
“Yes,” Jake said.
“I like happy,” Arden replied. “It’s a very nice place. Like Michigan.”