Home Again

Chicago and its North Shore is my home. I grew up in Evanston through 7th grade and then we moved to the North Park neighborhood on the north side of Chicago. But returning to my home was both helpful and disconcerting. Helpful in that I had friends, family and a knowledge base, but disconcerting in that there’s always a self-imposed expectation as to lifestyle. There are no truly fresh starts when you go back home.

My husband was to report to his first day of work almost as soon as we landed, which left the heavy lifting of getting settled pretty much up to me. This move happened so quickly that we didn’t have time to find a place to live, but my most beautiful friend Alisa and her husband St. Keith generously offered to take us in for a few weeks until we could figure it all out.

When we got to their lovely townhouse, Alisa took one look at me (my friends can really read me like a book) and knew there was crisis. A few weeks lasted about four months, and Alisa and Keith gave us so much more than a place to stay. As Alisa has always managed to do with me, she took the scary hurt away making it ok to be home again.