This as-told-to essay was submitted by Ava R. to The Growing Home and edited for length and clarity. I remember one Saturday in Chicago when I stood in the Trader Joe’s checkout line with a basket full of things for one, soup, raspberries, a tiny basil plant and a frozen pizza I planned to eat … Read more

This as-told-to essay was shared by Olivia R. with The Growing Home and edited for length and clarity. I used to think unhappiness would arrive with a crash. I pictured slammed doors, a dramatic goodbye, or some giant loss that left a mark you could point to. What I had was softer than that. It … Read more

As told to The Growing Home by Ava R. and edited for clarity and flow. I remember the first morning after retirement with painful detail. I woke up at 5:12, the same way I had for years when I was driving from Oak Park into downtown Chicago for work at Northwestern Memorial Hospital. My body … Read more

This as-told-to essay was submitted to The Growing Home by Lila R. and edited lightly for clarity and flow. I used to feel awkward when people said I had a beautiful soul. I would laugh, look down at my coffee and change the subject. The compliment felt too big for me. I was a regular … Read more

As told to The Growing Home by Fiona R.; this essay has been edited for length and clarity. I met Denise in 2014, when we both ended up reaching for the same bruised avocado at Trader Joe’s in Chicago. We laughed, split the difference and kept talking in the parking lot long after the frozen … Read more

This as-told-to essay was submitted by Mara T. to The Growing Home and edited for clarity and length. I grew up in a ranch house outside Columbus, Ohio, where pain had a ranking system. Broken bone, serious. High fever, serious. Everything else, keep moving. If I came in crying after falling off my bike, my … Read more

This as-told-to essay from Olivia R. was edited for length and clarity by The Growing Home. I used to come home to my apartment in Logan Square, toss my keys on the counter and hear almost nothing. The refrigerator hummed. A bus groaned past on Milwaukee Avenue. My phone lit up with work pings, delivery … Read more

As told to The Growing Home by Dana R. and edited lightly for length and clarity. I used to spend Saturday mornings in Chicago like I had perfected adult life. I would walk to Trader Joe’s, buy tulips I did not need, grab a latte from Starbucks on Clark and head home to my apartment … Read more

This as-told-to essay was submitted by Sofia R. to The Growing Home and lightly edited for clarity. I used to leave parties with the strange feeling that I had been surrounded by people and somehow untouched by the whole night. I remember one office happy hour in River North, Chicago, when everyone stood around high … Read more

As told to The Growing Home by Brian L. and edited for length and clarity. I thought retirement would feel like a long exhale. I had worked since I was eighteen, first loading pallets in Elk Grove Village, then moving into operations, then spending my final years in an office with two monitors, a phone … Read more