Went shopping for probably the last time in Hyde Park today. Every time I realize just how little time is left before I leave this bit of my life behind, I feel this undescribable mix of gratitude and sadness. One more chapter nearly written, one less chapter to live through before I reach the end… A place and a time that won’t exist again, for me or anyone. I can feel the look on my grandfather’s face before he died, and every now and then I begin to catch glimpses of what it meant — of everything that he knew he had seen.
Now I’m cleaning up the place… I’ve got to start packing, hardcore, this week. There won’t be time while I’m finishing up my final papers, looking for an advisor, trying to say goodbye to people, tying up loose ends, and launching a new writing project. I didn’t realize it, but Scav Hunt probably marks the end of ‘living in Chicago’ and the beginning of ‘moving out of Chicago.’
Last night, I could see my life like it was a film and I was watching it. I so love all of the places and the characters… but it can’t go on forever…
Every life is beautiful; every story is true.