With Happy Hearts

This pillow encapsulates our Christmas season. And our year, actually. A year with painful goodbyes and stitched up hearts. A year of warmth and growth.

I’ll remember this year as the one where Wells chimed in reading ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas,’ alternating pages with Fitz and I while Gus listened. I’ll recall how Fitz couldn’t find Scotch tape so he resorted to using a massive shipping tape dispenser to seal our presents. I’ll smile thinking about my daughter sporting a blue bowtie at Christmas Eve service, her little hands proudly holding a candle. I will shake my head in wonder in contemplating how I survived nearly two weeks of endless illnesses and antibiotics.

I couldn’t possibly forget my sister’s Home Alone-themed party (and neither will the internet; I’ve never received more DMs in my life).

I will smile happily thinking of every family dinner, cookie baking, cocktail toast, city excursion, sister date, twinkle lights, and seasonal feasts.

I will wince and then chuckle when I think about how I accidentally discovered a gift from Fitz that was supposed to be a surprise- a special piece of art work that captured my heart. When I hang the painting up in my living room, I know it will provide an amusing story for years to come.

It’s 58 degrees outside today. The furthest thing from a white Christmas (but how wild was our Halloween snowstorm?!). Maybe we’ll ride bikes and take the dog for an extra long stroll.

We are alive. We are breathing. We are moving forward. Later on, over this winter break, the holiday trimmings will be packed away till next year. And everything will be new once again.

Hello September

hanged green white and gray umbrellas
Photo by Matthew T Rader on Pexels.com

This month snuck right on in, didn’t it? I awoke to pitch-black skies and a whole lotta rain. Everything seemed different. Somewhere, nature is quietly whispering, “Autumn is coming, you moron.”

Today, Gus begins her very last year of preschool!

Fitz and I will be celebrating our wedding anniversary this month. We’ll be heading back out to wine country (where we were hitched in 2009). Fun fact: the morning of our wedding, we wine tasted at Silver Oak Winery. There were so delighted to hear that we were getting married that day that they handed us a bottle and said, “Congrats and cheers!”

I am really missing having a dog. Is it time for us to adopt one? Maybe. We went through MWBTR when we rescued Theo in 2010.

That’s all for now. Stay dry!

City Girl Confessions: Focusing on What Was & What Will Be

IMG_9918City Girl Confessions is my recurring column via The Glencoe Anchor.

A couple months back I recall the idea of a dog park floating around town. There’s just something about that notion that connotes joy: it’s a gathering place to meet new friends and, overall, it’s a cherry on top of the stellar parks already existing in our town.

At the time, I also accepted that the dog park would not be a great fit for my 10-year-old Boston Terrier, Theo. His energy level was subdued and we always knew that he preferred humans to other dogs. However, I still welcomed the dog park idea because pets connect us in wonderful ways- and how great to have a meeting place for those connections to occur?

My dog has endured many milestones since we adopted him in 2010. Theo started out as a city pup where he often enjoyed long walks in the South Loop down Michigan Avenue and being near the Lake. He easily welcomed the addition of two kids to the mix, following them happily wherever they went.

When we moved to Glencoe, I was astonished at how active the pet owners were. In Chicago, dog walking is mandatory given the lack of yards. In the suburbs, where yards are plentiful, people still leashed up their pets and took to the sidewalks. It was oddly comforting- it made me feel like I didn’t have to give up every part of my urban lifestyle just because my geography had changed.

So I happily joined the unofficial active dog-walking club. Perhaps you saw us over the years. For a good chunk of time I rolled deep with a red stroller, a kid on a scooter, and a leashed black-and-white dog. When my babies became big kids, our walks became just me and Theo. A morning walk, a bus stop pick-up, a family stroll after dinner…these walks were our treasured time for nature and introspection. 

I’m sharing these special memories because this week presented something unexpected: the sudden passing of my beloved Theo. As you might imagine, my family and I are absolutely devastated. My children have lost their best friend. My husband and I have lost our treasured companion. The joyful light in our home has dimmed dark.

Yesterday, I took a walk. By myself. The same, long neighborhood route my Theo had loved for so many years. Everywhere I looked there were dogs. Dogs riding in cars, dogs lazing around yards, and dogs passing by in the street with their owners. Big dogs, mini ones, furry ones.

Maybe there will be a dog park here some day. Maybe, if I’m lucky, I will love another dog the way I loved Theo. In the mean time, I will continue my routine walks alone and remember a special time. If I see you with your pet and give you a tiny smile, just know you are helping me heal. You are helping me celebrate what once was.