Train of thought

Lise just texted me, “Look at the sky!”

Of course, I did. Still in my jammies, I thought I’d better not venture outside and scare the neighbors (and those visiting the plant sale next door!), so I just looked out each window of my disheveled, moving-torn apartment. All I saw were gray skies. I mean, totally gray. Even someone who’s used to seeing rainbows, like I am, would be hard-pressed to see anything but gray.

I texted back, “There must be a rainbow where you are — a reflection of your smile? It’s only gray here.”

Then she wrote, “I am on the train to the city thinking of our happy memories and striking up a conversation with fellow passengers because it is what you would do!”

Amen, Lise. And do you know what? I sat down to write this blog, and I heard the long, low rumble of a train. It was singing in a bright baritone. And then the sun came out, filling my lovely apartment with sunshine. And I suddenly saw what Lise did from her Metra train window: happy memories of my time in DeKalb.

This might be the upside of all the technology, to let people who are living in the moment share that moment. Just like I’m doing with you now.

Don’t be surprised if you don’t hear from me for a few days. My internet connections will be spotty, and my phone number will be different. That’s why I wanted to share this moment, Lise’s and my moment, with you.

Goodbye, DeKalb! I love ya.

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