Sometime during college, my roommates and I decided that we would all take on a new city together after graduation. Before any of us had marriages, mortgages, careers, or kids. We wanted to move somewhere just because we had the freedom to. After a few pro/con lists and some research into potential graduate schools, mission venues, and service programs… we landed on Chicago.
This week marks the fourth anniversary of our move to the Midwest. And I’ve never been more nostalgic about it than I am today. It’s so funny thinking back to that summer. Brainstorming about flying vs. renting a moving truck. Emails with Heather about life and lodging for when we’d first arrive. Analyzing messages with Jane to determine will she/won’t she be a fourth roommate (for the record, she was for it and we really were over thinking). And late night packing.
My sister snapped these photos around 1am, a few hours before my flight. The center one is the most genuine. She quoted me saying, “This was the EXACT moment when I realized I am moving to Chicago tomorrow.”
At the airport, I distinctly remember waiting at my gate, nervous and excited. Eventually I boiled over and turned to the lady next to me. Because she looked rather nice I blurted out, “Are you from Chicago? Is it nice? I’ve never been. I’m moving there today.”
This week also marks the beginning of my brother’s year of service and I couldn’t be more proud. He just moved to Denver. He had never been before. Much like four years ago, I find myself nervous and excited for what’s in store as he takes on the world post-graduation.
More on Chicago another time. Probably more on Denver, too. Till then, some gratitude.
Thank you, Sammy, for staying up with me as I packed. Not only did you document, you also made it a fond memory.