When your first flight cancels and they tell you they will put you on a 5:45 PM flight TOMORROW, so you spend too much money to rebook and then that airplane has a flat tire after the longest TSA Pre-check line in maybe the whole world, it would be so easy to be in a foul mood. But I’m not because after the sad news about Anthony Bourdain (dear friend to my husband, who is devastated and stunned) I have been awash in gratitude. I am stuck in O’Hare with the funniest, smartest fourteen year old maybe in the whole world (aka Annabelle) after a weekend in which:
We stayed in a lovely apartment in Lincoln Park. With a hot tub. On the roof. With a view of the Chicago skyline. (Thank you cousin Matt)
We had breakfast with the wonderful Nick who got us reservations for lunch at Rostier.
We had that lunch, and it was remarkable and memorable in every way.
Annabelle and I went on a cruise to celebrate my dear friends’ daughter’s graduation from DePaul, and it was joyful and full of lovely people.
My husband, fresh from Anderson Cooper, was waiting for us on the dock and We had deep dish pizza delivered after our Uber driver ordered us his favorite one, “with butter crust.”
We had lunch on Saturday with Annabelle’s former beloved English teacher at The Gage and then we walked a few blocks and saw Hamilton (again) and I cried during the entire second act.
We met Michael’s friend chef Brian and his delightful family at Duck, Duck, Goat and then went into the hot tub and an played the Hamilton soundtrack loud while the lights of Chicago twinkled at us.
Annabelle and I got to watch Michael and Brian break down a hog.
My 25 year old son still calls me every day and shares his life with me.
Our cancelled flight sent us back to the apartment and Annabelle and I got to lie on the sofa and read until Michael rushed back in time to tell us goodbye and send us off.
Life is so hard. And so sad. And so glorious. Hug the people you love. Read books. Knit. Love hard.
We stayed in a lovely apartment in Lincoln Park. With a hot tub. On the roof. With a view of the Chicago skyline. (Thank you cousin Matt)
We had breakfast with the wonderful Nick who got us reservations for lunch at Rostier.
We had that lunch, and it was remarkable and memorable in every way.
Annabelle and I went on a cruise to celebrate my dear friends’ daughter’s graduation from DePaul, and it was joyful and full of lovely people.
My husband, fresh from Anderson Cooper, was waiting for us on the dock and We had deep dish pizza delivered after our Uber driver ordered us his favorite one, “with butter crust.”
We had lunch on Saturday with Annabelle’s former beloved English teacher at The Gage and then we walked a few blocks and saw Hamilton (again) and I cried during the entire second act.
We met Michael’s friend chef Brian and his delightful family at Duck, Duck, Goat and then went into the hot tub and an played the Hamilton soundtrack loud while the lights of Chicago twinkled at us.
Annabelle and I got to watch Michael and Brian break down a hog.
My 25 year old son still calls me every day and shares his life with me.
Our cancelled flight sent us back to the apartment and Annabelle and I got to lie on the sofa and read until Michael rushed back in time to tell us goodbye and send us off.
Life is so hard. And so sad. And so glorious. Hug the people you love. Read books. Knit. Love hard.
