Sentimental value, like love, should be reserved for people not things.

The title of this blog is actually an original quote that I recently posted on Facebook.  It received several likes, which leads to believe that it's not to be taken lightly. This quote came to me during the time Rick and I have spent away from home. I miss home so much that it's thrown off many of the activities that I regularly enjoy, cooking a nice dinner, having a glass of wine (or two) relaxing on the couch, even exercising. I've tried reminding myself that home is what you make it and being anywhere as long as it's with Rick should feel like home. So it's possible that I created this quote as a way to convince myself of its validity. It was this quote that I said over and over again to myself as I walked through the darkened lobby of my company's Chicago Loop office last night to gather my things. I've accepted a position with another group - still within my same company - that will take me out to our west suburban office. I repeated this mantra to keep from getting "sentimental" about my departure.

Of course I'll miss the hustle and bustle of the city, but after close to 6 years down here I don't approach this change with complete disdain. I'll miss popping across the street for a happy hour cocktail, especially when it leads to an entire night of festivities hitting one hot night spot after another. I'll miss the fast-paced, no nonsense way in which the working class operates downtown. Knowing we're all here to achieve the same main goals - work, lunch, home - creates a kind of unity that is difficult to find among such diversity. Seeing the same people at 9 that you do at 5, even though you may live worlds apart is grounding. In the suburbs you see the same people because you work with them. You know where they're going, you know who they work for, and eventually you start avoiding them because if you have to grin through one more bout of small talk you might just claw your eyes out. Those things almost don't exist downtown. And here I go getting sentimental again.

Let me end this by saying that I've given myself permission to feel sentimental today. Not because I'll miss the silent strangers on the street, the gleaming walls of the office lobby, or even the happy hour options, but because I'll miss my people.  The people who have become like family to me because we argue, we joke, and even though we rarely hang out outside of the office when we do it's like we do it all the time. So it's the people, not the things that I'm getting choked up about. They may not know it because I certainly won't show it, but I'm smiling to hold back whatever emotions might actually show if I let them. Because even in a city as small town as Chicago, leaving the center is like moving to another planet.

All-in-all I believe the quote "sentimental value, like love, should be reserved for people not things" is meant to help me disconnect from things and recognize what is really driving the sentiment: memories, people, experiences, so that I can hold on to what's important and let go of what is not.

Anything you can do...I can do

You know how when you're trying to prove a point and you end up getting yourself into something you can't handle, but you're so committed to getting the point across that none of that matters anymore? I have this thing about family. As you know ever since Rick and I got together I've been in awe of the tightness of his family. Considering that it's pretty much tradition in my family that once you move out of the house, you move out of the state and are rarely heard from again; I seriously envy the fact that all of Rick's family lives within about a 7 mile radius of each other and they gather at the drop of a hat. Same for all of his friends, only even closer, with several generations living on the same block or - even better - in the same 3-flat. I want to cry real tears (of joy) when my parents are able to make it in for Thanksgiving. How sad is that? It didn't use to be like that. We were all very close before my Grandfather passed away. Back then my parents still lived here and times were much richer - both figuratively and literally - so it was easy for people to fly in or to fly people in for holidays. With money tight our family ties have loosened. It shouldn't be that way. It should be the very opposite.

A Hispanic family of 6 could be living in a one-bedroom apartment and they would still gladly welcome a long-lost Aunt from Mexico with her three kids to move in for an indefinite amount of time. It would be nothing to them. To my family, we could be broke, damn near on the streets, and no one would come home. We would just keep struggling. I want that to change.

My niece is having trouble in school...well in general. I've tried to be there for her long-distance (she's about 400 miles away), but it's just not working. It's a loaded tale, but the simple fact is that she hasn't grown up in anywhere near the ideal environment for a child and now she's taken on the type of defensive, negative attitude that her environment demands. I want to show her a different life. I want to show her that this is not how things have to be. I want to bring her back to Chicago for the school year. She would have to live with me...and Rick in my 1 bed/1 bath condo. This isn't the Ritz...she'd be condemned to an air mattress for the time being. This would technically be punishment, so I'm not going to feel bad about that. But note, I said "the school year" this would require me taking custody of her to get her enrolled in classes. Obviously, this elicits strong pauses when I first run it by Rick, my mom, and friends. So I ask Rick, what would you do? Or better yet, would you do this? He has to admit that if he had to he would. It's in their blood. It's time my family valued real family values. Am I crazy? Is a 26-year-old taking guardianship of her 15-year-old niece completely insane?