The boys and I took an impromptu trip into the city on Saturday to see the Chicago River dyed green. We wanted to see if the city of Chicago could do any better than we did with our dye job.
Um, they did. We ran from home to the train station and
barely made it. When we got off of the train we found ourselves on a busy Michigan Avenue, full of St. Patrick's Day die-hards. I
looked pretty out of place as I pushed my two boys through it all, but I didn't
feel out of place. We got to the bridge and saw that green river. Really and truly green.
Green greenie green green!
I had thrown some snacks in my bag before we left and tried to pass those off as a "picnic" dinner. Everything sounds better to Jacob if it's couched in a picnic. Jacob ate his up and then told me that when we got home we'd have real dinner and popcorn. Hmmm.
After a little while we crossed the river again to get back to the train station.
And enjoyed the view below and the view above.
As I walked, I remembered (here comes the introspection) the first time I ever crossed a bridge over the Chicago River four and a half years ago. It was an early fall night and looked like this:
Matt was traveling for work and was able to bring me along. He had spent all day working. I had spent all day wandering the Art Institute and the surrounding streets. While I wandered I started to feel hungry, tired, and nauseated. By the time Matt got back I was feeling yucky. A
new yucky. We walked north to a restaurant that served the very best steak I think I've ever had. But I couldn't enjoy it. Then we came back to the hotel to sleep in the very best bed I've ever slept in. Then we came home to find out I was pregnant with Jacob.
I can't believe that only four years have passed since then. I would never have dreamed that four years later Matt and I would move our two young sons to this big city. Or that we'd even have two sons. And I never, ever, ever would have imagined myself capable of an outing like the one we were on.
Several years before I moved to New Jersey (for my mission) I drove through it a few times and roundly criticized it. I think the phrase, "feast your eyes people, because this is the last time we have to see New Jersey!" escaped my lips. Yet I lived there and loved it.
Several years before I moved to Atlanta I was completely certain that my mission call would be to Atlanta, Georgia. Certain. So New Jersey came as an even bigger shock! I ended up in Atlanta later than I'd thought and for a different kind of mission, but it turned into the truest of homes.
And now again, several years before moving to Chicago I had this experience that brought the city onto my radar. I felt out of place and intimidated on my trip back then. I felt a conviction that I was not made for that life. Yet here we are. And it's happening. It's becoming home.
It's cool.
