Courtney

Six years ago my Courtney left this world and I think of her every day. Today is a little harder than most, so I am writing her a little love letter.

I love sparklers, the queen of fireworks, and have since childhood. I have always looked forward to New Years and the Fourth of July because I was assured at least one pack of the pretty things. I can remember, as a child writing my name with the tip, leaving behind the smoky remnants and the sweet smell of the sulphur and ash. How beautiful are the sparks of light that the wand spits off, and how joyful are the shoots of color that flicker. And then, the last spark flies and things are darker than they were before you put the match to the end of the dainty stick. Now, when I am writing my name in the darkness, I think of Courtney. Just like these little luminous batons, Courtney spit fire and wonderful light and immense joy into my life. Then she was gone and the world was a little dimmer.

I miss her today like I did the moment I found out she was gone. I still catch myself thinking, “I’ve got to call Courtney,” just to tell her about some completely random thought I just had, or to tell her about an author that I am in love with today, or about a band that we should follow around the country. It is always bittersweet because I can feel her close to me in those moments, but then I can’t share them with her either. When I really miss her I will ride with my windows down, listen to music louder than I should and tell her about all those things I’ve had bottled up, as though she was right beside me. There have been times in the past six years when I have needed her and she was there; in a poem, or song, or hymn; in the sweet smell of spring, or the kiss of a fall breeze on my cheek, or the crisp smell of winter in my nostrils. I called my mama this morning to tell her I loved her and just to talk, and I hugged my kids a little tighter than normal before telling them goodbye and I hit snooze and snuggled up to Jonathan a few extra minutes and I have prayed constantly this morning for those I love and those others I know are missing her. I guess that is one lasting gift she left me, that when I think of her I love a little deeper than I had before, knowing how fast this life really goes.

I have so many memories: Dancing in our pajamas, driving to Nashville, Memphis and Jackson to hear bands play, staying up all night writing papers, sitting in the grass making necklaces out of flowers, hiding *ugley* bug, reading to one another, playing dress up, laughing uncontrollably, crying uncontrollably, just talking until we fell asleep. Like the sparklers that burn up so fast, she was gone too quickly and her life was too brief, but while she was here she burned bright and beautiful and made everyone’s life more joyful. I still miss her and think of her everyday, but wouldn’t trade a single memory to forgo the pain.

"It's not goodbye, but see you later" Chicago Day 3

With days one and two in the books (you should read about them first), we woke up rested and ready for a full day three, before our evening flight back to Jackson.

Wouldn’t you know that the first words out of Holt’s mouth in the morning were, “Mama, you remember how you said we would go swimming this morning.” It was our last day in the hotel and I had promised the night before, so we all put on very cold bathing suits and went for a swim. Holt had so much fun swimming inside and even stuck his toes in the hot-tub for a moment "just to see." Although we did a ton of stuff, some of the memories that I will really treasure (and that I think will stick with Holt) are the things we really could do anywhere like swimming in the hotel pool or pushing the buttons on the fancy elevator. Holt got to swim a little every day and he and I had fun holding hands and jumping in the deep end. It is fun being a kid with your kid. After our swim, we packed our bags and straightened up our hotel room (the thought of leaving a hotel room in shambles is appalling to me - I think I straighten up more in a hotel than when I am at home). We were able to pack everything in the bags we came into town with. Everything that is, except the penguin/toucan from the night before. Holt said his goodbyes and was unbelievably sweet about "leaving it for some other little boy to play with." It was a touching moment for me and Jonathan to watch Holt be so good and unselfish. Once we were all packed and had our necessities for the day, we checked our luggage with concierge and set out for one last day in the Windy City.


The first stop on our list was Sears Tower (recently renamed the Willis Tower) we grabbed breakfast on the way and hopped on the loop and again Holt got to count down our stops. The building is, well, towering, and the line to get into the observation deck is almost as long as the building is high. I was afraid it was going to put a glitch in my itinerary, as I had only allocated 2 hours (including travel time) for the Sky Deck, but I also thought that, since we had CitiPass booklets, we might be able to skip the long line. I saw a group going in a different door with a shorter line that led directly to the elevators. Once we were inside I asked the elevator attendant if we could just go up with our city passes. She told me that we could be on the next elevator. Great! I thought, looking at the hundreds of people in the winding lines working their way out of the building. Then I realized we had come in the exit, then I realized the group we followed in was all a part of a special tour group. It was very awkward standing there, as there was no discreet way to slip out and we could feel hundreds of eyeballs staring holes into the backs of our heads. Jonathan and I shuffled awkwardly onto the elevator and up a few floors to the ticket level. It was at this point that CityPass holders were supposed to skip the lines, oops. I suppose it’s a good thing neither the Navy Pier security guard nor the feisty lady in front of us were at the Tower that morning. We made it to the top from out on teh street in about 15 minutes. Jonathan and I both felt our ears popping on the way up in the big elevator, but Holt never complained. It went incredibly fast and in less than a minute we were 103 stories up. Holt had a grand time looking through all the different viewers and trying to spot different sights we had seen from a birds eye view. Holt had absolutely no fear when it came to stepping into the plexiglas “Ledge” to view the city and look down at the street below. We were trying to get some good pictures of Holt and he kept begging us to let him take a picture. We finally gave him the camera and he stepped into the glass box and faced the inside of the building to take a picture of us. Jonathan and I simultaneously told him, “not this way, that way," and pointed out to the sky and city below. All the other tourists within earshot got a kick out of the exchange and commented on how cute Holt was. Well, you can’t argue with fact (well, unless you work for the justice department).

We begged the security guard to let us peek int he lobby (it was closed because of storm damage from the Friday Night monsoon)

I didn't realize until we saw it on the computer how scary this picture turned out.

Jonathan is such a good daddy

Don't we look frightened

After stepping off the ledge and free-falling in the fastest elevator ever, we stumbled upon (may have researched significantly to find) a great pizza place, Giordanos, where Jonathan ate the biggest salad ever, I had a delicious Caprese salad and we stuffed our faces with the best pizza I think I have ever had. On our way in, there was a bum outside begging for money saying he was hungry etc. so I got a to go box and took him our leftovers, but I made sure, since he was wearing an anti-Bush t-shirt, that he knew republicans are significantly more philanthropic and give a way higher percentage to charity. I think he was grateful for the food, maybe not the extra info.

Holt giving me his best t-rex

We made ourselves miserable we ate so much.

Per Jonathan’s suggestion and thanks to his observation skills we ended up taking a water taxi from the Sears Tower at Michigan up to Navy Pier where we were able to hop on another water taxi to the museum campus where our last stop of the trip, the Shedd Aquarium was waiting for us.

The water taxi was such a treat for all of us. There was an adorable little family on the boat with us and the kids and Holt became fast friends. Louis, Angelica and Gabby were very sweet to Holt and it was fun to watch the four of them on the boat and how excited they were about the ride. I could hear them talking to one another, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. Watching their facial expressions was treat enough.


The taxi made a few stops along the river and our new friends got off at the first one. When the boat had started to pull into the dock Holt came and sat down in our laps and was showing us that the cut he had on his finger was almost all better. Well when Louis, Angelica and Gabby got off the boat they all waved goodby and said “bye bye Holt.” And Holt, being the sweet kid that he is, waved and then wanted to show them his mended finger, his mended middle finger. Now Holt was telling them, “look, my finger is almost better” but the boat engine drowned him out so for a few seconds, before I had a chance to pull his and down and wave with a borderline creepy smile, Holt signed a not-so-friendly sign to their whole family. I don’t think they actually saw but I kept hoping we might run into them at the aquarium so that I could explain. It was not long after they got off that Holt, I suppose he was too distracted by the other kids before, began his drunk frat boy dancing and I panicked slightly, as visions of Holt either wetting his pants or teeteeing in the Chicago River flashed in my head. Fortunately there was a bathroom on board the boat, so Holt and I made our way to the stern, where the restroom was located. When we were in the potty Holt looked up with a very happy smile on his face and said, “I’ve never teeteed on a boat before, but I got to go on a bus once.” Add this adventure to our list of things Holt will remember that really aren’t exclusively Chicago.

I have a very sweet story that I don’t want to forget and of course want to share. We had to switch boats at Navy Pier and Jonathan had, on the boat ride, taken off his hat and put it in his back pocket. As soon as we were off the boat and Holt saw Jonathan’s hat in his pocket he decided he wanted to carry his hat in his back pocket too. It was so cute watching the two of them walking down the sidewalk with their hats flopping against their tushes. What was even funnier was that Holt kept looking back over his shoulder to make sure his hat was still there.

Yep, still there.

We finished up our vacation with a trip to the aquarium. When we deboated at the museum campus, Jonathan saw a duck in the lake. I was several feet ahead when I turned around and realized that the boys were squatted by the lake’s edge pointing at the duck. I went back for the five minute lesson on duck molting patterns. Then we were ready. We skipped a ridiculously long line, thanks to CityPass, and went to the aquarium. It was fun and there were lots of buttons for Holt to push. We saw a sea lion named Biff branded with some numbers on his back (Holt remembers this quite vividly) and some beluga whales and dolphins and sharks. But, Holt really enjoyed dressing up like a penguin and waddling around the “Arctic” He would slide down the slide and then hop on the rocks saying peep, peep, peep. But his favorite part was playing in the yellow submarine. I thought we would never get him out of there. The other day we were talking about the trip and he said, “I sure did have fun playing in the submarine at the Shedd Aquarium.” I thought he was talking about the U-boat at the Museum of Science and Industry and tried to correct him. He quickly corrected me, “Not that big one the little yellow one with all the kids in it.” He’s definitely retained more than I realized at the time, but he always does.

Next time, if we go somewhere with the potential of crossing paths with waterfowl, I will factor that time into our itinerary.

I'm pretty sure this is when Jonathan threatened to feed Holt to the anaconda

"In the town where I was born/ there lived a man who sailed to sea..."

Our little penguin

That is a big fish

We left the Shedd and headed back to our Hotel one last time to get our bags and head to the airport. We walked up to Lakeshore Drive and waited for the bus. It was pretty hot standing in the sun under the bus stop canopy, so Jonathan and Holt found some shade under a nearby tree while I stood and waited for the bus. It was very endearing watching the two of them chatting away and sword fighting with blades of grass. It was a wonderful way to cap off our vacation. We got our bags from the Hotel, rode the El one more time and got to the airport with just enough time to get to the gate and unwind for a half-hour before boarding our plane. Holt fell asleep on the plane ride home (it didn’t land until 10:30) and I carried him to the car sound asleep (it has been a while since I have had to do this) while Jonathan got our bags. Jonathan and I talked about our wonderful trip on the way home laughing about all the funny things that Holt did and said, holding our noses the whole way (spilled Muscle Milk, while it may be a milk substitute, is still rather rancid after 3 days in a hot car).

We couldn't leave without trying one of those spider-man popsicles

"Dad, do you remember when I got to teetee on a boat"

Goodbye Chicago. Thanks for being so nice.

We'll be back.

"We have a code 21 at the Ferris Wheel" Chicago Day 2

This is day two of our trip. Day one is linked below.

After such a busy day one, we slept in (Holt woke up at 7:30 rather than his normal 6:30) on Saturday Morning, took our time getting ready (in case you were wondering Jonathan wore his “uniform”), ate breakfast and explored our little neighborhood some. Our hotel was directly across the street from Grant Park and the statue of Grant on his horse. I may have spent an inappropriate amount of time explaining to Holt that, like Lenin and Stalin, sometimes people build monuments to bad men and then elaborating why he was bad ( I don’t think Holt really appreciated my gravity). The Buckingham fountain was the only thing on the Friday itinerary we had to skip because of the rain, so we decided to walk to the fountain and then make our way to the library and then hop on the subway out to Wrigley. Our stroll was great and we saw a lot of South Michigan Ave, when we got to Buckingham Fountain Holt asked, “Dad, can I go chase those pigeons?” “Sure” and then Holt was off. Poor, poor, pigeons. When we left there was nary a bird to be seen, I guess Holt decided he would just take care of them all. We walked around the fountain and watched some of the boats on Lake Michigan. Holt wanted to take some pictures so we had a little photo shoot. Then, we made our way toward the loop.

On our morning stroll

He's still improving

Those poor birds

Buckingham Fountain was crooked, a la leaning tower of Pisa

Holt trying to touch the top of Sears (Willis) Tower

My boys. It won't be long before Holt is too big for this.

About 2 blocks into our walk from the Buckingham Fountain, Holt has to go to the potty and starts dancing like a drunk frat boy. He says he can’t make it to the Hotel within eyeshot - how a person can go from no urge to tinkle to kidney failure in a span of a minute I cannot understand - so Jonathan and Holt make a mad dash to the nearby bushes, and I am just praying that no one walks by and asks what that man is doing in the bushes with that little boy. I suppose I should count our blessings that this was our only real tee-tee crisis of the day, considering how much we were out doing. We left the seen of the crime ( I am sure we violated, at the very least ,some public ordinance - although now that I think of it, I wish the urge had hit him during my lecture on Grant’s war crimes), and made our way to the loop where we were going to peek in the library (don’t judge me) and then hop on the subway to Wrigleyville.

What is that man doing to that little boy?

He was much relieved

We were pleasantly surprised to find, sandwiched between the library and our subway station, a giant eyeball sculpture. I have since learned that it is a recent addition to Chicago’s cityscape and that it was still a novelty when stumbled upon it. Holt thought it was pretty neat, until his attention was diverted by more pigeons (who knows maybe they were the same ones he chased from the fountain who thought they had found sanctuary under the giant watchful eye. Poor, poor, pigeons).

The Loop

Holt was pretty excited about getting to ride the El on Friday and was equally pumped about going underground to ride the train. He did very well sticking close to us and getting on and off all the public transportation.

The subway headed to Wrigley

The subway headed to Cellular Field

The closer we got to Wrigley, the more crowded the train car got, and the more excited Jonathan got. We got off the train at the Addison stop and followed the exit signs, we stopped in the alley at the first of 1,000 t-shirt stands and Holt got a foam finger for the game (this was apparently a neccesity) and then as we emerged from the side-street and Wrigley Field came into view the smile on Jonathan’s face went from it’s normal big to consuming his face. Any attempt I made to speak to him was useless, as for a few minutes he was struck deaf and dumb. According to him, the clouds parted and rays of sun shined down on the stands and he couldn’t hear me over the heavenly chorus of angels singing. This would happen many times over the course of the next two and a half hours. I think I may have even seen a tear or two of joy. In all seriousness, Jonathan was truly happy and it made my day to see him and Holt enjoying each other and the experience and everything about being at Wrigley.

In front of the Harry Caray Statue

Those are two happy boys

The game was fast moving, and a really good one. We saw multiple home runs, some pretty great defense in the outfield and it was close until the very last pitch, and to top it off, the Cubs won. I had joked with Jonathan before we left that if they lose, at least we will have had an authentic Cubs experience, he didn’t appreciate my humor then, and a win was definitely much better. We got to go down to the field before the game (although our tickets weren’t that far away from third base) and were just feet from the players during warmups. About halfway through the game, Holt and I took an inning to explore the stadium (we decided to lt Jonathan take it all in) and the visitors desk gave Holt a coloring book and stickers and we both got certificates and stickers to commemorate our first cubs game. Holt was pretty good about not begging or even asking for things so I took him into one of the memorabilia stores in the concourse and let him pick out a $10 present. He picked out a Cubs truck, which turned out to be priceless, as it entertained Holt for most of the rest of the game and Jonathan and I were able to watch the game sans whining. Holt would stop every now and then to eat or sing along with the crowd or cheer.

Holt loved the jazz band serenade

Holt's first major league hotdog (This was the first of many, I lost count at 3)

Holt with his truck and visitors sticker

Every time Jonathan tried to take a bite, Holt would cut him off

I think the most special moment for me was watching Jonathan holding Holt and the two of them singing “Take me out to the ball game.” At the end of the game Holt, Jonathan and I danced and sang “Go, Cubs, Go.” In fact Holt sang the chorus pretty much the entire rest of our trip and still breaks into it at times.

Go, Cubs, go
Go, Cubs, go
Hey, Chicago, what do you say
The Cubs are gonna win today


After the game, we explored Wrigleyville about an hour before hopping on the L back to our Hotel to freshen up before our speedboat tour. And I had to fend off a very drunk scantily clad woman to get a picture with the bear.

Waveland Ave.

We dropped off the truck and foam finger, the guys went for a brief swim (big juicy mama abstained from the COLD swimsuit) and then the boys put on some fresh clothes and we hopped on a bus to Navy Pier to take our cruise on the Seadog. I had booked tickets for the architectural cruise, but because of heavy rains and some flooding, the river was too high for the boat to sail up the river so we took a harbor tour. Before we left Cleveland, I let Holt watch the video on the Seadog website of the speedboat tour. Holt was so excited after he saw that video that he would ask about 10 time daily when we were going to go on the Seadog. When we got on the boat he said, “Read, Set, Fun!” and grinned ear to ear. We all had a nice time on our speedboat ride and then went to Harry Caray’s Tavern on Navy Pier for dinner. The weather, aside from the brief monsoon on Friday night during dinner, was perfect and the temperature was so cool down on the pier.

It sure is a pretty city.

There is Charlie the dragon of Navy Pier. Holt was very kind to point out to the other kids, as he learned from his book, that the ones on the outside don't go up and down.

Holt got to ride on the carousel and one of those rides that lifts you in the air and bounces you then lets you drop down and then we all got in line for the Ferris Wheel. Now, the line for the Ferris Wheel, as you can imagine given it’s tourist appeal, was pretty long, but it was moving very quickly. The rides at Navy Pier operate like any amusement park, you buy tickets at the ticket booth and then give your ticket to the ride attendant, so it makes perfect sense to let someone in your party stand in line for the ride while someone else goes to one of the ticket booths. Well, we are 5 to 6 people away from the ticket attendant when a man and his child politely say excuse me and go past us and rejoin their wife/mother who is waiting beside the ticket attendant. This is fine by us, and it’s clear that the mother, holding their place in line, had been waiting like everyone else and just reached the ticket check where she waited for her spouse and kid to return. Obvious and completely unoffensive to everyone that is but the testy woman in front of us. She and her husband (poor guy) and her child were directly in front of us and immediately she began arguing and raising her voice to the security guard standing at the ticket gate. Now, this security guard is about Jonathan’s height and a heavier build and looks to be in pretty good shape. He is dressed in tight black cargo shorts and a yellow security polo shirt, with a walkie-talkie clipped to his shoulder and a badge of some sort clipped to his belt and it was clear he takes his job very seriously. He tries to calmly explain that the group he let step in stood in line just like everyone and when they reached that point they waited patiently for their tickets. It all sounded very reasonable to us and the people around us. She continued to badger him and he was midway through the explanation a second time when this 30 something woman stands on her tiptoes and screams “RUDE” right in security guard’s face. What follows almost made me wet my pants. Our friendly, I take my job a smidge too seriously, security guard tightens his jaw, tilts his head toward the walkie-talkie shoulder, pushes the intercom button and says, “We have a code 21 at the Ferris Wheel, I’m going to need backup. Ma’am would you and your party step to the side.” I had to bury my face in Jonathan’s shoulder I was laughing so hard, for fear the Barny Fife of Navy Pier would see me and cite me for a code 16 (thank goodness he wasn’t patrolling Buckingham Fountain when Holt had his emergency). Later, as we looped back around one of the women in line behind me reached over the rope barricade to give him a reassuring pat to let him know that the rest of the patrons supported him. He didn’t smile when I jokingly said, “easy, that’s a code 17 improper touching.” The whole exchange would be Saturday Night Live gold. Jonathan and I enjoy reenacting this exchange and citing each other for violations around the house. “That’s a code 14, improper use of a bathroom sink,” he’ll say when I allow my clothes to take residence in my sink. Holt couldn’t figure out why we were laughing so hard, but he knew that lady acted ugly. I said, “see, everyone looks silly when they throw tantrums.”


The wait for the Ferris Wheel was well worth it, for the view alone, but the ride was made even better with Holt entertaining us. We got up as high as we could go and Holt looked through the plexiglass and down at bumper boat water below and quite seriously said, “Daddy, do you want me to do a cannon ball into that water?” Jonathan and I simultaneously shouted “No!” and made Holt get away from the Ferris Wheel doors. There is a large circus tent next to the Wheel on the other side that I imagine, to a four year old, looked like a soft place to land. So, Holt follows his cannon ball question up with, “Wouldn’t it be fun to jump on that tent down there?” At this point I made Jonathan go sit beside Holt and hold him until we reached the safety of the ground. Had he not been so serious about his questions the ride down may have been a little less tense.



After our ride on the Ferris Wheel we started making our way back to the bus stop. On our way we passed two women in full burqas, we noticed there was a high middle eastern and Indian population in Chicago, but these were the first fully covered women we saw. Holt takes one look at the women, then says a very gutteral, “Yelch, you see those women dad? They have leprosy.” (At least we know he is paying attention when we read our picture book bible). We quickened our pace and tried to explain to Holt that “those ladies” did not in fact have leprosy, but were merely oppressed.

On the way back to the hotel we shared the bus with a lovely family from the suburbs of Chicago and one of the girls had an armful of balloon animals. We struck up a conversation with them. They asked where we were from, to which Holt replied, “The Chicago hotel.” Then the girl with all the balloons offered Holt her balloon penguin (it was really intended to be a toucan, but Holt says I know my penguins and that's a penguin so we let the matter rest. We got back to the hotel too late to swim, so I reassured Holt that if we had time in the morning we would swim. Holt wanted to sleep with both the “penguin” and his cubs truck, but I nixed the penguin (the sound of balloons rubbing together does not make for a restful sleep). So Jonathan, Holt and his cubs truck, and I all drifted off to a very deep sleep, preparing for one more day.