I spent the earliest part of the day at an outdoor cafe, sipping tea and writing.
I arrived yesterday afternoon and spent the evening looking up. Most of the time. I'm not accustomed to so many tall buildings. When I wasn't looking up, I was looking out. I don't remember the Riverwalk. It may not have been here the last time I visited the city. I also don't remember how vast the city is.
The vibe on a Saturday night is electric.
Sunday morning is a bit quieter, but busy. The streets are filled with people wheeling suitcases and scrambling for coffee.
My future son-in-law met me at the airport and spent the rest of the day with me. We had a great dinner at the City Winery on the Riverwalk and he told me about all the things he loves about Chicago.
Some hours later, as we waited for my daughter to arrive from work, I noticed a small figure bouncing down the street on the sidewalk. I'd know that walk anywhere. I saw her smile before I saw much else of her. And she saw mine.
I can't remember the last time she let me hug her so much.
It's been about eight months since we've seen each other, the longest patch of desolate absence we've known. That's not happening again if I can help it.
More adventures await today.
The Summer of Self-Love is a daily writing practice created to harness three months for thriving. The goal at the end is to host a dinner party. Sounds like an odd Hero's Journey, doesn't it? Most of them usually are.
I'm writing from the road, using the tiny Raydem keyboard given to me by my son for just such occasions. There are some unusual limitations. It is likely I'll go back later and update this entry and add art if I'm not able to do it now.
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