Snowmageddon 2015 – A Short Story

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Day 23 and no signs of life on the tough streets of Chicago. My food supply is low and my liquor is depleted. Oh, the humanity.

My journey home was horrific as I had to wait for the #4 Cottage Grove bus in blizzard-like conditions as I left my Super Bowl party. (It was quite fun I might add.) The bus approached and I gingerly boarded holding tightly onto what little belongings I had left as to protect them from the other tired and angry riders. As I approached my stop after the 3 minute commute I could see my street into the distant. I was nearly home. I looked up into the night sky and exalted, “My God, Thank you!”

My hope was not lost as I dredged through the knee-high snow toward my humble abode. I shivered as the cruel snow repeatedly slapped me in the face. I hoped for deliverance as the final 1/4 mile loomed through the frozen over-priced condos of the Hyde Park neighborhood. And it happened as swiftly as my thoughts came rushing, the connecting bus sped past me while I was lost in my pain. No!, I screamed as the local Jeffrey zoomed past the snow drifts like they were small speed bumps that had outgrown their usefulness. Why? Why?

I was now dejected. I was ready to lie down and let the elements take me in my current form: pathetic, hurt, and disenfranchised.

But HOPE did happen.

And out of the night sky a light reflected in my eyes. No, not an oncoming vehicle but the street lamp of my block. I mustered up the little energy I had to endure the elements and make my final steps towards that light. It’s warm glow fueled me and I headed in that direction. I finally came to rest on the steps of my pad, frozen and broken but alive. My journey during Snowmageddon Chicago will forever remain in history as the day I found the strength to overcome. I smiled and let out a sigh of relief.

Next time I’m gonna drive. Screw this.

Go well and with love good peeps.

Goodbye and Hello

My weekend is filled with blissful fun – like packing and moving. Woo-Hoo! Nothing screams “change” like a new residence. The old residence contains family memories neatly packed away in U-Haul boxes awaiting the arrival of a few young men to complete the transition; while the new residence is a welcome change in eliminating strife and confusion from a wayward marriage. We all welcome these moments as we move past the pain, heartache, and sadness and look forward to new horizons.

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As I packed, I flipped through numerous pictures of me and my family. I looked through albums and smiled as I gazed at the pictures of the births of my kids. The pictures brought me back to all of those wonderful times captured in the four walls of the brick and mortar we called home for so many years. I smiled.

I rid myself of the various toys played with by the kids. I remember nearly every single toy I purchased and when my kids played with them. It’s a wonderful thing how the memories come flowing back. I caught myself basking in the moment. I smiled again.

The items left behind from my previous garage sale were stacked kindly along the curbside awaiting future homes to be adopted by other families. Neighborhood kids rummaged through the newly found treasures making their careful choices among the loot. I smiled again.

And as I prepared my new residence for the arrival of my “stuff” I felt a peaceful calm overtake me. I had a brief moment of bliss that I had not felt in a long time, a feeling that reminded me about the good in life. These are new beginnings, accomplishments through the storm, my kids and their smiles. I can’t help but smile again.

I’ve traveled a long road toward this moment as many people have and I haven’t cracked to the point of no return. I have held steady as I wound my way around those evil moments. I am nervous as any would be, but I feel I am in a good place. My mental capacity is strong, and I see the reaction of my kids to the new surroundings. They feel comfortable and secure even with less. And for this I smiled.

When it’s all said and done – even through the tedious tasks of packing and moving reflections of life are bound to occur. These reflections will be of the good and not-so good of the memories created through my family experiences. I can recall days which I can explicitly recount what we did as a family, the laughter that filled the room, and the smell of the family meal. All these events are happening simultaneously in my mind. The memories may be gone, but I have new ones waiting.

My kids see the change to the new residence and they embrace it. I see the event of change approaching and I slowly make my way toward it. I hope to embrace this change with the desire it will continue to rid me of my pain. I feel there is a positive smell of change in the air regarding my new residence with the smell catching me just under my nose and pulling me closer to acceptance. It pulls me toward the direction where my new future awaits. I smile again for the last time in my current humble abode.

Go well and with love good peeps.