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
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
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 Leah R. and edited lightly for clarity and flow. I remember standing in a narrow kitchen in Chicago, balancing two bowls of pasta while he made our friends laugh in the next room. From the outside, we looked solid. We had the right photos, the easy chemistry, the … Read more
As told to The Growing Home by Marlene C. and edited gently for length and clarity. I turned 75 in January and I still catch myself glancing at old photos the way some people check the weather. I used to keep a small stack of them in a drawer beside my bed in Evanston, just … Read more
As told to The Growing Home by Claire M. and edited for length and clarity. I live in Naperville, Illinois, on a street where the maples turn bright gold every October and the recycling bins roll out like clockwork every Tuesday morning. For years, my house had its own weather system. The front door opened … Read more
As told to The Growing Home by Sofia R. and edited lightly for flow and clarity. I grew up in a brick apartment building outside Joliet, Illinois, where the heat clicked loud in winter and every grocery trip had a plan. My mother kept a running list on the side of the fridge. My father … Read more
This as-told-to essay was submitted by Alicia R. to The Growing Home and edited for clarity and flow. I retired at 66 from a mid-sized healthcare office in Oak Park, just outside Chicago. For years, I had pictured retirement as a soft landing. I would drink coffee slowly, walk to the farmers market on Lake … Read more
As told to The Growing Home by Hannah R.; edited for length and clarity. I remember standing in the office kitchen in downtown Chicago, holding a mug of coffee I did not even want, smiling on cue while two coworkers compared weekend errands at Target and Costco. I nodded at the right times. I asked … Read more