Today I arrived in Chicago. It has been nearly 4 years since I’ve visited my family up here, and I have been thrilled about the trip ever since my mom suggested it a few weeks ago.
To be honest,the flight was a touch less enjoyable than most of my air travel these days. I had a middle seat (not aisle- middle) and felt incredibly claustrophobic with my feet tucked in close to me and unknown people wedged into my sides. They seemed nice enough, but I didn’t feel that the 2-3 hour flight was ample time to reach adequate comfort levels to use their shoulders pillow-style. I tried hopelessly to fold my feet under me and use my knees as a headrest… but as I said- it was a hopeless attempt at sleep.
We arrived a bit late and my Uncle John, Aunt Shelley and Grandmother picked us up from the O’Hare airport. We ate some classic beef sandwiches at Portillo's (a well-known restaurant up here in Chicago) and dropped our things off at Grandma and Grandpa’s house before heading out to visit with my Great Aunta Jeanne.
Oh. my. gosh. This woman never ceases to surprise me with the things that come out of her mouth. She is 82 years old, has adopted children, an ex-husband, and countless stories of a strong woman and scorned lover. She is constantly warning me to never let a man control my life, and gives me an idea or two on how to handle one if he ever tries to. She has a box of blonde hair dye on the table and a painted paper bag of goodies from the little girl across the hall. Aunta Jeanne is an onion of emotions and stories.
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