Although I think of myself as flexible and resilient most of the time, there are some changes that I just don’t like. My friends and loved ones moving away is right up there in the “I hate this” stratosphere.
Lori and Tom live 2 doors up from me. I knew right away when I moved onto the block 29 years ago that they would be good friends. They championed me when I was divorcing wasband #2, supported me during the adoption process. Lori is a rubber stamping buddy of mine, we share reading as a passion and I’ve been drawn into one of her favorite charities, Mission Haiti. Tom more often than not does my snowblowing and now that they are moving to an apartment in Chicago, he is even giving me the snowblower. YA had a ton of hand-me-downs from their 2 daughters (which really helped my finances back then) and we did a lot of activities together when the kids were all younger, including Supper with Santa, trick-or-treating and many backyard neighborhood get-togethers. They are two of the kindest, most generous people I know.
This move to Chicago has been coming for a while. They actually rented the apartment a year ago but a health crisis kept them here until now. Their oldest is in Cincinnati with the only grandchild, Lori’s work has offices in Chicago and Tom does programming work from home, so the Windy City seemed like a good next step for them.
But it doesn’t make me happy, even if it’s good for them. I know how to use e-mail and texting and even skype, but it isn’t the same as just running a couple of houses up. So on Friday I have a chunk of time blocked on my calendar that says “cry on the sidewalk” as I fully intend to go home to wave them off as they depart Minneapolis.
Who would you have move closer (or back)?


But nowhere are you warned about the thunderstorms. In the mountains and tropical areas of Peru, it’s rainy season right now. That means a lot of gray days and in Cusco, thunderstorms – three to four a week for a few months. We experienced a thunderstorm the first afternoon we were there and let me tell you, when you are 11,000 feet up, the thunder and the lightning is MUCH closer to you than down in the lower climes. It’s hard to describe the visceral feeling that goes through you when the lightning seems just on the other side of the street from you and the thunder crackles and booms loud enough that you cover your ears. We were touring a couple of convents during the storm, both with large courtyards and covered walkways; we weren’t actually standing out in the rain (which was intense as well) but close enough that the storm felt startlingly close by.