The feeling starts as I’m driving down the expressway. Windows down, radio loud, wind in your face, and the sun. The sun, shining brightly on your face, warming up the summer air around you. As you gaze out of the windows, bright green pine trees line the sides of the highway. Pulling off the exit and rolling into the small, majestic town of New Buffalo, Michigan. There is one main road lined with a gas station, grocery store, and small little restaurants. At the end of the road is the public beach, packed with people soaking in the summer heat. Down this quiet little road of the small main road, is the house I have grown to know well. 

It’s been my grandma’s house for as long as I can remember, with her mom living down the street. My entire family would go there for most summer holidays; memorial day, summer birthdays, 4th of July. Four sets of parents, three kids each set, two grandparents, six dogs, two cats, all under one house. Let’s just say, it was pretty hectic. 

Memorial Day weekend, we would all go to the beach, look out over the horizon of the lake, and on a clear day see the skyline of Chicago. The small town of New Buffalo would have their annual Memorial Day Festival with carnival rides and games for all of us to enjoy into the night. We would then hit Oinks, a small ice cream shop well known in the New Buffalo area. They had the best ice cream and forever will be an icon to the town. We would then host one of our cluster birthday parties. Both of my younger sisters, my cousin, and me, all have our birthdays within a week of memorial day weekend. Every time we went up to Michigan, we would have our four person birthday party, four cakes, four different people getting gifts, and a bunch of fun. 

Fourth of July was a little more action packed, still the same house with the same amount of people, yet somehow felt a bit different. It was Fourth of July, we had flags everywhere, grandma wearing her red and blue, and snacks out constantly. My father and I would go golfing at my Grandma’s golf course, Whittaker Woods. We would engage in some of the same activities as Memorial Day, outside most of the day, enjoying the beach and sun, and just have fun. We had endless time to goof around and play different games outside. We played basketball, rode around on bikes, and climbed the sea wall rocks. My uncle had his annual firework show; setting off huge fireworks that would fill up the night sky. It was amazing, and as a kid this was all you could ask for. 

There was nothing more valuable than my time in Michigan. All of my cousins under the same roof, being able to play outside constantly with zero responsibility. In Chicago, we are told “be careful, don’t go too far, don’t stay out too late.” In New Buffalo, all those “rules” were a memory and all were told was “don’t get hurt and be home for dinner.” It felt like we were in our own little pocket of the world, immune to everything. There was nothing more enjoyable than playing tag with my cousins and uncles, being outside and just being a kid. This calm little town was a getaway, even if it was only across Lake Michigan. It was a chance for everyone to come together as a family and just enjoy the time spent together. I rarely find myself on my phone or ipad, and as I go up there now, I still enjoy this same feeling. New Buffalo takes you into its paradise behind walls, and while you're there, nothing else matters but the people surrounding you and the day ahead.