Chicago

Our latest RATs adventure took us to the Windy City this past weekend. We strolled the Magnificent Mile, had a toast on the 95th floor of the Hancock Tower, ate a Cheeborger at the infamous Billy Goat Tavern, lounged in the hotel's soothing hot tub and, of course, were too loud and too silly at all those places. We were seven, and besides enjoying the sights of the city, we also allowed each other to cry about things that needed to be cried about, tell stories that needed to be told, and gave gentle hugs when necessary. I guess we didn't need to go so far to do those things, and the emotions behind the stories can catch us by surprise, but we sometimes need to get far away from what comforts us to find the sticky place in our souls. How wonderful that we can show that sticky place to the ones who know us well, know what to say, know what not to say. We walked down a wet street and marveled at the artifacts cemented into the Chicago Tribune Tower, brought from around the world, momentos of nameless reporters, capturing a bit of history. Each amazing piece tucked into the wall reminded me of our friendships, our closeness, our joys and our sorrows, our stories all part of our wonderful lives together.