6710 W. Wick Place, Milwaukee
A house holds the soul of
the family who lives there…or so it feels to some of us. And thus it has seemed
at 6710 W. Wick place, a white and blue Cape Cod house on a tiny city lot near 67th
and Lincoln Streets in Milwaukee. This is the place called “home” to my
husband’s family since 1953.
When Jerry and Lenora
Sweet moved in, they had two sons, Mike and Doug. Jerry had completed his Korean
conflict duty in the Air Force. He and Lenora had building to do. Over the next
years, they “built out” their family with three more children, and Jerry “built
out” the house to accommodate their clan of seven.
Jerry finished the attic
so it became a dormitory for his four sons – Mike, Doug, Bob, and Steve. He
created built-in drawers that slid into the space where the roof slanted, so the
boys never needed dressers. Jerry and Lenora’s fifth child was a girl, Marilyn, glory
be, and she got the second bedroom downstairs to herself.
The building-out extended
from top to bottom. Jerry installed a toilet in the basement laundry room,
behind a privacy wall that he erected next to the set tub. He put up stud walls
to create three distinct rooms: one for laundry, one for a workshop, and one for
fun: the proverbial “rec room.”
For that recreation area,
Jerry outdid himself. He hammered up thick knotty pine tongue-and-groove boards
on the walls, installed a dropped ceiling with acoustic tiles, and slapped down
a tile floor in the pattern of a brown and white checkerboard. He created a
knotty-pine bar on one end, complete with a little door to keep out little
kids.
The final build-out was a
family room off the kitchen. And that was that. Jerry and Lenora raised five
kids in what young marrieds today would call a “starter home” of about 1,200
square feet.
In time, Mike, Doug, Bob,
Steve, and Marilyn moved out and established their own lives. I married Mike. Doug remained a bachelor (and became the beloved Uncle Doug); the four other
Sweet kids brought in-laws and grandchildren to the family. Every Christmas
Eve, all of us gathered in the rec room, where Jerry dressed like Santa and
everyone, young and old, sat on his knee.
The Sweets were not to
remain clustered around Milwaukee as they had been for decades. A month before
Jerry and Lenora’s 48th wedding anniversary, Jerry died. It was a
sorrowful time for all of us…and also the end of our gatherings at the house. We
suspect that without Jerry, Lenora never had the confidence to throw another
big party. At different points, Bob and Steve relocated out of state with their
families. Only “Uncle Doug” and Lenora remained in town, along with Mike and
Marilyn and their families. From 1996 through 2011, Lenora lived alone at Wick Place,
always researching and visiting senior apartments, but never willing to leave.
Lenora with granddaughters Tessa and Sarah, and daughter Marilyn, Christmas 2012,
in Lenora’s sister Mary Jane’s home in Illinois, where Lenora lived for three months right before she had the stroke
The Milwaukee-area Sweets
gradually grew alarmed as Lenora struggled more and more with forgetfulness.
Eventually it became obvious that her condition was dire. Her doctor
diagnosed her with Alzheimer’s disease. She experienced a mini-stroke, and
shortly afterward, Marilyn and Mike were able to move her to a home
specializing in the care of people who have dementia. We visit as often as we
can, even though she shows no signs of recognizing us. Sometimes I sing to her and she keeps the beat with her foot; there's still "someone home."
So it is that after sixty
years, Lenora no longer lives at 6710 W. Wick Place. The home has been an empty
shell since the start of 2012. During that year, Marilyn worked to clean it
out. I helped, as did Debbie (Bob’s wife) when she visited from Texas. We
reminisced and laughed as we boxed up clothing and put pieces aside for
Lenora’s grandchildren. But Marilyn’s health was failing; she was fighting
cancer and battling the side effects of chemotherapy. The packing-up of house
contents skidded to a stop during 2013.
In September of 2013,
Marilyn died. I have seldom been to a sadder funeral. She fought so hard for
almost five years to stay here; she wanted to raise her daughters. Her two sons
were already out of the nest, but her girls were only seventeen and eight years
old when their mother died. Although Lenora knew well that Marilyn had been
struggling with cancer, she was too far gone into Alzheimer’s Land to
understand her daughter’s death. So we never told her.
After Christmas of 2013, I
set myself onto clearing out Wick Place. With the help of a handyman, it took
me about three months. Dennis (the handyman) lifted all the carpets, to reveal
sixty-year-old oak floors in beautiful condition. I packed, he painted, I
washed, he scrubbed, I pulled out nails, he patched. Car loads and truck loads
of clothing and housewares went to Goodwill. Fifteen boxes of knick-knacks and
housewares went to a charity rummage. Bins and bins of paper went to recycling.
Furniture the kids and grandkids hadn’t taken went to others who needed it.
Unwanted tools went to our group campground up north. During those ninety days of bitter cold, snow, and icy sidewalks, it was difficult to haul all the stuff
out of the house and down the slick outdoor steps. But Dennis and I walked like
penguins and never fell (whew).
By Easter, the horrible weather abated and the place was
transformed. The house was empty and it glowed – ready for someone new to move
right in and call home.
During the clearing-out process,
I remembered a lot. As I packed and cleaned, I pictured family parties in the
house. I could see Jerry’s eyes twinkling as he teased me. I recalled more
than one time when I reached for a second dessert, and he’d say, “Have another one, Gail.” He got me every
time. When someone teases you with love, it doesn’t hurt.
I didn’t have the same
relationship with Lenora. It wasn’t that we didn’t get along, more that we were
two trains on different tracks. I never felt that I was “blood” to her. I think
because of this, I began the house-clearing with a feeling of resentment.
Miraculously, and unbidden by me, as the three months passed, my resentment evaporated.
While I packed, lifted,
and carried, memories flowed back. Some of them were unpleasant recollections brimming
with the general disconnection I always felt with my mother-in-law. But to my delighted
surprise, many memories arose that were good, and funny. I recognized that I did have a lot of fun with Mike and his
family at 6710 Wick Place.
I came to realize that in
the past when I pushed down unpleasant memories, I had pushed down all memories. I'd been so determined
to seal away any hurt and negativity that I shoved down the good stuff too. As
I packed and mopped and wiped, all
the memories arose, freely, from their locked storage unit in my body. I was
able to let go of the negative ones and relish the positive ones.
By Eastertime, it wasn't only the house that had been transformed; I too had changed. I had
fallen in love with Wick Place. I took a nap there one day because I was too exhausted
from packing to drive straight home…and as I rested, all cozy, I felt like the
place was my home. There’s something
about working on a house that makes it yours.
I came to realize that 6710 W. Wick Place holds part of my soul too. I came to acknowledge
that part of my soul is part of the Sweet family soul. And I’m glad of it.
I called a “Farewell to
Wick Place” party on April 6. All the local Sweets came to celebrate, along
with Lenora’s brother and sister from Illinois. Suddenly the house that was
shined up and empty was filled with people from age one through age seventy-eight.
The party lasted a few hours and included pizza from the venerable Happy
Tap nearby (best pizza I’ve ever tasted; and I don’t even like pizza!), a fabulous
salad made by my daughter-in-law Rae, and cookies to die for baked by my
daughter-in-law Katie.
My son, Brian, with his baby Isaac on the steps to the
attic bedroom
Playing in the kitchen - me, Tessa, her brother Daniel, my daughter-in-law Katie and my son Charlie |
My favorite part of the
gathering was that every room was filled at almost every moment. The house pulsed
with life. People wandered into each
room and sat down on the floor to talk and laugh. The little kids ran and ran
and ran upstairs, where an attic closet with two doors makes for a super duper
race track. At one point, Marilyn’s younger daughter, Tessa, was kicking a ball
with my grandson Oliver. Oliver wanted to run the ball in Marilyn’s old room,
but Tessa didn’t want to play in her mother’s bedroom – it made her too sad.
We’d all brought card
tables and chairs, and we set them up in the rec room for our pizza-and-salad
feast. My sons checked out Grandpa’s bar – they remembered the old man as
Santa, but he died too early for his grandsons to ever share a beer with him.
It was loud in the
basement, like it used to be. Lots of laughter. But unlike the days of yore, a
cloud of blue smoke did not fill the room.
I bet Jerry and Marilyn
were smiling down on us from their celestial seats.
At the end of the party,
we said goodbye and closed the door.
Farewell, Wick Place! |
What a sad, beautiful story Gail. And such a neat little house filled with love and a collection of memories. I laughed when I pictured you and Mike walking like penguins on the icy sidewalk.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Andrea. Actually it was Dennis (the handyman) and me walking like penguins...but funny-looking nevertheless. heh
DeleteReally liked the story. I hope someone buys the home who will fill it with life and laughter, as well.
ReplyDeleteThank you Pauline. I share your hope!!
Delete