Chicago

It's been a long time coming.

I have to remind myself why we left Chicago. The last five months have been a series of tearful remembrances and abrupt snap-out-of-its. It comes down to this: We left Chicago because being there was no longer fulfilling the long term goal we'd had in mind. We needed to step away, regroup, have full-time employment. We stepped away. We make ends meet every month. We have charted a new course. But still, there is a nagging. An aching.

Today while eating lunch, Cora said "I miss Chicago." She looked around the living room and said "this is not my favorite house, I want my building house." About a month ago, she said something very similar, about wanting her building. [This is where I get sad, and can feel the tears well up in my eyes.]
I'm an explorer. And Cora happens to be one as well. Every time we made our way through the four doors required to get to the street, an adventure was awaiting us. Hyde Park Boulevard was always interesting. When we moved back to Oklahoma, Cora, Magnolia and I would sit on the front porch, and I couldn't wait for people to pass by. I wanted to see someone, anyone, but it rarely happened/s. We pull into our garages and go into our houses, and that's that. Little boxes.

I miss the sense of community, the feeling that we're all in this together. I miss our shared yard, and the amazing neighbors we had. I miss Nicole and her four kids, and hearing Tiffany and Malachi make their way to the top floor. I miss the jumble of strollers at the bottom of the stairwell and Cora always pointing out whether or not Mia's was there. I miss Bryce's big head, and I wonder how much hair he has now. Let's be real though: I don't miss our upstairs neighbors and their crazy loud walking/running/who knows what above our heads at all hours of the night. I don't miss communal laundry or wondering what school Cora would go to. I don't miss dismissal time from Kenwood Academy and the yelling conversations of the students as they would pass by on their way home. I don't miss not being able to see the stars every night. That's all. That's my what I don't miss list. One more: I don't miss wondering what we were supposed to be doing with our lives [I'll let you in on all of that someday. A clue: it involves books].
I miss our church, and the lake, and Milennium Park, and the museums, and Lincoln Park zoo, and downtown. I miss walking to Promontory Point and 57th street beach. I miss public transportation, and walking almost everywhere, and Hyde Park Produce. I miss the tree I would watch from my window that turns golden in the fall. I miss the boiler. Our apartment was right above the boiler room. The first time it came on, I was looking out every window to see if a tank was rolling down the street. I thought I'd never get used to it, but I loved falling asleep to it, and I loved how warm our floors always were. I miss Dr. Hampton, and I can't believe she won't deliver any babies I might have in the future. I miss the numerous random interactions with people every day. I miss looking into the eyes of the woman who was always around the corner of 51st and Lake Park. I miss Matt and Lisa. And a lot of other people. And a lot of other things.[More tears. I try not to think about it much.]

I've really been trying to focus on all of the things we've been able to enjoy since being back in Oklahoma. I especially enjoy being close to family and making it to a lot more get-togethers [even if we didn't have the hay ride this year. The hay ride is a remarkable occurrence at Jake's grandparents' farm. It's my third favorite holiday. Not a holiday, you say? Pish posh, you've obviously never been. October 2011, Peepaw? Okay, sounds great!]

Trying to stay positive helps sometimes. I really am on a teeter-totter of constantly reminding myself that our overall reason for being there had become obsolete. But today, when my little Coco uttered those honest words, I wanted to break down, scoop her up, and tell her how much I miss our building house, too.

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