Category: Cities

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Home = Heart

In the midst of traveling between Chicago and Detroit, I wrote a quick Twitter/Facebook status update:

Anybody else ever feel “homesick” even though you’re technically “home”? Because that’s how I’m feeling right about now.

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Seattle 2010; our last trip with Dad

I made that statement mainly because I had been sorely missing my Dad at that moment. Hubby & I were back in Detroit with the intention of being available for my Mom as she began packing for a three-week trip back to the Philippines. I intended to drive her to the airport the day of the trip, but, as it turned out, I had to be out of town for work. So instead, my Hubby — the awesome man that he is — took her to the airport.

The Monday before I left for my out-of-town business, Mom and I had a chance to spend the day together. We had lunch at one of our favorite restaurants, followed by a mani/pedi at a local salon.

I should add that, while I know most women are “close” to their mothers, my Mom & and I have never really had that type of “girly-girl” relationship. My Mom was my mother;. She was the authority figure of my childhood. And even though I’m a grown up now and can make my own decisions, I do take into consideration her opinion — even though I may not always follow it.

After the funeral (and after the rest of the world returned to “normal”) I found myself wanting to be closer to Mom. Partly because I wanted to share my grief with her: I wanted to be with someone who could understand the loss of a person I loved dearly.

The other part was because I just didn’t want my Mom to feel so alone. After all, Dr. Bro had Dr. SIL and Emilia Grace. And me? I had my wonderful Hubby; the sole person that has been able to hold me up and keep me together. But my Mom now had no one. And if — God forbid — I had been the one to lose my spouse, I know that I’d be utterly devastated; completely undone.

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Photo of the 'rents, using the QuadCamera App on my iPhone

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So yes, that is the reason why the day before I flew out of town (and three days before my Mom left for the Philippines), we found ourselves at the salon getting our nails done. Afterwards, I helped her with some other mundane tasks around the house, all the while dreading our good bye. I knew that when I hugged and kissed her for the night, it would be the last time I’d be able to do so for the next three weeks.

Alas, the time had come and I couldn’t put it off any longer. After all, I myself still had to pack for my business trip the next day. So as I kissed and hugged her, I told her to be safe and have fun. This trip was planned months before my Dad’s passing … and it was meant to be a trip full of reunions with her high school and university classmates. And I encouraged her, as always, to call me if she needed anything.

As she hugged me back, she said, “I wish you were coming with me.” And in that instance, I really wish I was. But before either of us could get teary-eyed in front of each other, I stepped out the garage door and waved at her once more as the door began to close.

My car wasn’t even at the end of the street when I called her on my cell phone. “I’m just a phone call away,” I told her once again. And, in between her tears I could barely hear her say, “I know.”

I cried the whole 15-minute car ride back to my Detroit home.

~*~*~*~

Later that evening, I thought about what it was like to be back in Detroit: back “home”, where I met and married Hubby. The same place where we bought our first home; where we suffered through more than 10 years of infertility.

And I thought about where I had been earlier today: my childhood home. The backyard where I learned to climb trees. The driveway where I learned to ride a bike. And I thought about my childhood bedroom (which is now my Mom’s “computer room”) and the countless memories I had growing up in that house.

And I felt absolutely homesick.

Picture of our 1st Home with Dad and Kozzy as a pup

I wanted to be that child again. I wanted to be at that home, babysitting my younger cousins; playing hide and seek in our 70’s-decorated, finished basement. I wanted to break out my old turn-table and blast out some ’80’s 12-inch vinyl remixes and just dance to my heart’s content. I wanted to play the piano again and pretend I could still be a member of some world-famous rock band. I wanted to be under a blanket on the couch reading a silly book I had checked out of the library.

Most of all, what I wanted was to be under the same roof as my Mom. And my Dad.

I know that’s no longer possible. My Mom … well, despite being worse for wear (what, with the loss of her spouse and all) truly needs her own space to grieve. She no longer needs to “take care” of her adult kids.

And my Dad … well, he’s simply no longer here on this earth.

But my Husband is here; and he’s been here for me through everything that I’ve been through for (close to) 15 years. And in reality, I know that — regardless of whether we’re in Chicago or Detroit — Hubby is my home.

And I couldn’t be more grateful.

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Sabbatical

Almost a week and nary a post. <sigh> When did life suddenly get so busy?

But before I go babbling on about shtuff, I want to send a great big THANK YOU for all the wonderful birthday wishes I got last week. It truly means the world that I have friends, both IRL and online, that care so much for me.

I must admit, Hubby & I started celebrating my birthday the Friday before the holiday; kicking it off with SIL’s birthday in Detroit. Since the two of us (SIL & me) share birthdays exactly two days before and after America’s Birthday, we have tended to celebrate our birthdays in some combined manner; typically either on the Fourth of July or on her actual birthday. So yeah, we ended up at lunch with Hubby’s side of the family and exchanged gifts at that time.

And because I had been dying to get into the water again (one day at the beach two weeks ago was obviously not enough), I twisted Hubby’s arm by dragging him to the local waterpark in suburban Detroit. We lost track of time, spending close to four hours of swimming in the wave pool and floating down the lazy river … and it was wonderful!

My only complaint? When did my 38 year old body begin to need an hour nap after spending that much time in the water? Geesh … I can remember spending hours and hours in a pool and STILL have enough energy to stay up all night during the summers.

But after a wonderful nap that Saturday, I got to spend some quality time with my youngest cousins (Dad’s side); taking them to Mexican Village downtown Detroit and driving them around to show them more than the relatively non-diverse suburbs of Southeast Michigan. (Think old Detroit Train Station … ) Yeah, I think we opened their eyes to the tragic beauty of Detroit.

Original Exterior and Interior of the Detroit Train Station
(Michigan Central Station)

Current Exterior and Interior of our Tragically Beautiful Train Station

On my actual birthday, Hubby & I were back in Chicago. My Mom tagged along with us to meet up with some of her university friends (from back in the Philippines! In the early-to-mid 1960’s!) It was a very hot and humid day, but we managed to have lots of fun at the Art Institute of Chicago (my Mom’s a BIG Van Gogh fan) and at Millenium Park. We had lots of fun taking pictures next to and underneath “The Bean.” Afterwards, we hit a Chinese Restaurant closer to our apartment and ate dim sum along with the traditional Noodles that each person should eat on their birthday (it represents Long Life).

So yes … that’s what I’ve been up to this past week. That … and doing some website stuff for one of Hubby’s friend (and getting paid for it … woo-hoo!).

Oh, and did I forget to tell you that I got a job?! Not just any job … the traveling job that I had been wanting! Woo-frickin’-hoo!! The only downfall is that I’m not going to be able to start until the end of August. Which means … yeah, still no major cash flow into our bank account.

The upside to it all? (Other than actually being able to say that I’m technically no longer unemployed … ) Now I can tell people that I’ve decided to take the summer off for a sabbatical! Tee-hee!

Again, thanks for your birthday wishes AND thanks for all the good vibes and prayers y’all sent my way in regards to my job search. You guys are AWESOME!

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Careless Memories

My Favorite D2 album

In the past two months, Hubby & I have spent more weekends in Detroit than we had here in Chicago. That’s the most we’d been home since the beginning of the year.

Needless to say, we’ve been listening to a lot of good tunes in our digital library during five-plus hour drive home.

Lately I’ve been on a Duran Duran kick; thanks to Hubby downloading their entire digital library. And it’s been fun singing Rio and Hungry Like The Wolf at the top of my lungs somewhere between Battle Creek and Jackson. But I must admit, I’ve been playing their first studio album more than the others.

It’s that album, simply titled Duran Duran, that reminds me of being 12 years old again and camping in Kitchener Ontario with my cousins. Where we’d play that cassette tape over and over again, most likely driving our parents insane.

It’s fun listening to the songs that never made it to the radio; those B-sides or other non-single-worthy ones. (Night Boat, anyone?) It’s like going back to visit an old friend and reminiscing about old times. Remembering how things were back in those days.

Duran Duran’s first studio album was very … New Wave. Lots of synth and distorted guitar; awesome awesome bass lines and — as I listen to it more and more — some incredibly complicated drumming.

Not that I don’t like the rest of their albums … I just wonder what it would’ve been like if they stayed in that New Wave sound, rather than heading to a more Pop-oriented direction. Perhaps they wouldn’t be as mainstream. Perhaps they would have never hit it big. Who knows?

I had that thought in my head since our drive back to Chicago last week. And that thought lead to another one which had me contemplating a couple “What If’s” in my own life.

Now, I must clarify before I head down this path … I typically don’t do this; travel down the road of “Shoulda, Coulda , Woulda.” Especially since I’m usually pretty deliberate about the choices I make in life.  (Well, at least I am now … ) So what I’m about to write below, is more of a … dream sequence, if you will.

*****

A "New Romantic" Duran Duran

When Hubby & I got back from our honeymoon, we started house-hunting. After seeing quite a number of houses, we finally narrowed it down to two. One was closed to both our places of employment and perfect as a “starter home.” It was only built two years prior; and it had more of a modern feel to it with open ceilings and skylights. It was one we thought would be easy to resell if we needed to move to a bigger place once we had our kids. But for the time-being, it would have been a perfect two-story home for the two of us.

The second home was older and a bit further from our work places. It a ranch-style home with bigger bedrooms and a finished basement. It had a large kitchen and dining room where we could see having family gatherings. Oh, and the best part (at least for me)? In-ground pool in the back yard (it’s the Cancer in me that looooves water!!). This was a house that was was ready for a family; ready for a couple to start their family.

So, out of the two … which one do you think that Hubby & I chose? I’ll even give you a couple seconds to think about it.

.

.

.

.

We chose the first house. Well, rather *I* chose the first house; Hubby defaulted on me to make the decision.

To me, it made more logical sense. Close to work. Easy to sell (so we thought at the time). And perfect as a “starter” home. Oh, and not to mention quite a bit less in price than the second house.

And I truly did love our house. It was funky; it was cute. And it was close to two “downtown” locales where we could hang out on a nice sunny day.

Except now it’s been close to 14 years — not to mention a move to a different city — and the house remains ours. There had been no need to “upgrade” to a bigger house since the kids never came. Nor was there the finances to do so, after all the infertility treatments we had paid for. And when the opportunity to move to a different city amidst the economic downfall of 2009, our house remained (remains) in our name.

So this is where I start to wonder “What if.”

As in “What if I chose the second house? Would we still be living in Suburban Detroit? Would we have had no reason to move to another house … let alone another city? Would we have those children we always wanted? Would Hubby & I have stayed in the same jobs … or better yet, move up in our respective careers? Or, better yet … would I have finally been able to be that stay-at-home Mom that I always wanted to be?

*****

My Cousin got to meet JT back in the late '80's. Totally jealous!

At the end of August, our lease will be up on our 2nd floor walk-up in Chicago. With Hubby freelancing and diligently working at trying get financially vested in a “virtual” ad agency that he & two others have started … well, the income hasn’t been too steady and reliable.

And me … well, let’s just say I’m still unemployed. For now. Which means that I have no income coming in at the moment. (Cross your fingers that I’ll not be unemployed for much longer!)

In any case, this means that our stay here in Chicago may be time-limited. Although not completely set in stone (things change from day to day), it looks like we’ll be moving back to the house in Suburban Detroit. The same house that contains many of those memories that I hoped to put away once we moved to Chicago.

Realistically we know that it makes sense to move back and regroup, so to speak, until our house sells. But emotionally … I feel as  if I’ve failed in my goal to start anew.

I know it’s futile to think of what could have been; especially if things didn’t turn out the way they did here in Chicago (in regards to my employment). And I know that my life experiences and the decisions I’ve made in my life have made me the person I am today.

But sometimes … just sometimes … I wish that I could peer into my future so that I can make the right decisions now.

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(Just for you, Kara … )

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Split

Like the current Stanley Cup Finals series, the ApronStrings Household is split.

For those that aren’t sports nuts like the two of us, that means that the Chicago Blackhawks and the Philadelphia Flyers are both tied with two wins apiece after Game Four in the seven-game series.

Not that I mean to say that Hubby & I are at odds with one another … well, at least when it comes to our relationship. Rather, we’re at odds when it comes to cheering on which hockey team we think should win the coveted Cup.

I should start off by saying that, first and foremost, I will always cheer for my hometown Detroit Red Wings wherever we live. But since they failed to make it to the finals this year … I had no choice but to choose an “adopted” team.

I should also add here that if I had my druthers … and if the Red Wings weren’t going to make the Finals … I would have absolutely loved to see two different teams vying for the Cup this season. And those two teams would have been the Vancouver Cannucks and the Montreal Canadiens. To me, it only seems fitting that the year Canada won Gold in a Canadian Olympics, then they should also deserve to have Stanley return home … at least for the year.

And yes, Mrs. Spit. I know this would have made you very very happy, also. 🙂

Instead now, Hubby & I find ourselves — for the first time in our married lives — rooting against each other. Him cheering for a team, simply because they’re considered the underdogs of the series. And me cheering for a team, for the mere fact that this team’s town has become my adopted town.

Hubby cheers for his team, simply because his opposing team has long-been rivals of the Detroit Red Wings. While I cheer for my team because it’s been 47 years since this team has won the Stanley Cup.

Either way, it’s been fun watching the series with Hubby. And it’s definitely made watching the NHL’s “second season” much more interesting.

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Meet Al the Octopus; the Detroit Red Wings mascot. For Wing Nuts, like ourselves, throwing octopi onto the ice during Playoff Season is a long-standing tradition for the Red Wings Franchise.

As for how Al got his name … he was named after Al Sobotka, the general building manager for Joe Louis Arena; and the wonderful soul that picks up every thrown octopi and twirls it over his head.

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Sidelined

Hubby & I "backstage" at Movement 2007

Ugh. So much for making it down to Movement this year. Nope; instead I woke up Saturday morning feeling craptastic … which led to an entire holiday weekend of coughing and congestion. Boo.

Hubby & I did end up making it to the premiere of The Drive Home on Friday night, though. And it was absolutely wonderful.

And since I’m still not feeling a hundred percent better yet, methinks I’ll send you over to Hubby’s blog to read about it. All I have to say is that watching this movie reminded me of why I’m still proud to call myself a Detroiter.

If you’re interested in watching some interesting facts about Detroit Techno and the history leading up to the inaugural Detroit Electronic Music Festival in 2000, click here.

Oh, and Hubby’s review? Click here.

That’s it for now. *cough cough*

See you when I feel better. *blows nose*

*Mutters, “I do have snots for brains … *

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