He sat on the stoop of his little front porch, wondering where the time went. He looked across the street at the park where his children played soccer, baseball and just played on warm summer nights. He thought about the kitchen, his kitchen, where he made breakfast and dinner every day for his family, especially Sunday dinner of pasta and sauce. He was proud that both his daughter and son kept the same tradition with their young families and he loved visiting with them and making it a point to stay through Sunday to sit with his grandchildren and tell them stories of Chicago. He heard his wife come down the steps one more time and come outside, finally ready to leave the house that was theirs for so long.
That is how I dreamt it up anyway. We put a bid on a house this week and it was moving along very nicely. Our offer was verbally accepted, we were lining up inspections when a call came in that the owner decided to take another offer. Man, did that suck. I had already moved to a new part of town, adjusted my commute, scoped out at least 5 restaurants on Harlem Avenue to try and the kids even played at the park across the street. Mentally, I was there. I get that it’s a business and that these things happen, but to say that the wind is out of my sails on a number of fronts would be a very accurate assessment. I REALLY don’t want to go house hunting for awhile anyway. The thrill is gone on that little adventure. I must admit that that this blow has really had a ripple effect. I don’t want to work, I don’t want to work on my dissertation, I don’t want to do much of anything. I just feel shitty about a house I never owned, a life I haven’t lived and memories that haven’t happened. Typing it out, I realize how absolutely illogical and silly it all is, but well there it is. Logically, I know that some variety of all of it is going to happen, someday. But someday isn’t today and yesterday everything looked a lot better.