September Sun


As I walked the Chicago streets to work this morning, I remembered my official move to Chicago.  A Hoosier transplant to Illinois, I found a downtown Chicago job and moved to the western suburbs to live with my grandparents.  I knew nothing about the city except the Sears tower, Cubs baseball, Fields’ holiday windows and other black Friday tourist shops.   To get to work, I would take the Metra  train.  It was an odd commute for me, sharing the double-decker car with briefcase carrying business people.    If it rained, my grandfather would drop me off at the College Avenue station.  Once in the city, I would join the fast walking mob carrying a grandma packed brown bag lunch of pretzels and fat free brownies.

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This is a picture of my grandfather and my cousin that has been on my desk since 1996.

There is something about this concrete shimmering late summer sun that takes me back to the days I lived with my grandparents.   Little did I know the tendrils of my life had started to twist and anchor me to the city…much like my grandparents’, sister’s, and husband’s.    A little over a year ago my grandfather passed away.  I think about him every day. But for some reason, on days like today, I feel compelled to talk about him….. his smile, his laugh, his kindness and his strength.  I miss him.

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