Back in Maine and my head is spinning, so much going on, so many feelings, so much to say, so much to do and oh so aware that despite the thinking of the day, time is finite. When you are a kid, time seems to move slowly but at some point, it seems the years speed by and one day you are looking up at your son who turns 21 in mere days as he struggles to help you. That is my life, my reality.
During my brief but whirlwind time in Chicago, in the still moments when I needed to occupy myself to keep from crying a primal scream, I amused myself by looking around and taking pictures. I was reminded that cities are these marvelous living organisms where no matter what any one specific member is going through, that for most life moves on at the same frenetic pace it has always moved at. It’s the nature of life.
My son and I walked the streets of Chicago after taking my Dad home to get some rest and we revisited our past life. We went to places he barely remembered but when he saw them, he knew them. Including trying to visit our old doorman who we suspect has gone onto his great reward. I suppose there was a certain level of symmetry in visiting the neighborhood I grew up in, at night in the pouring rain, walking to reclaim and to ground myself. Of course, the reality is we can never go back, life doesn’t go in reverse, but sometimes of only for a second, the comfort of going back feels oh so good.