Two days ago my girls, my mother-in-law and I returned home from our girls' getaway to the Chicago area. We spent two and a half glorious days staying on the Magnificent Mile and doing exactly what we pleased. We had lunch at the Walnut Room, saw Beauty and the Beast at the Oriental Theater, took Ferris Bueller photos at the Art Institute, stood on the Skydeck and wrote on the walls at Gino's East. The new Marilyn Monroe statue was fun to see, right after it went on display. There were beautiful, bright plants everywhere, giving the city even more life than usual. Our time there was a breath of fresh air and I loved every minute.
We left the city and headed East to Lake County, Indiana. That's where I came from. We made the trip specifically, the last weekend in July so that we could attend the Whiting Indiana Pierogifest. I've been before but my girls haven't. Neither had my husband's mom. She wanted us to come and planned most of the trip herself. She is a gift, even if she is my mother-in-law. We also came to visit my extended family. My dad moved my immediate family to Florida when I was three, and that's mostly where I grew up. I missed my grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins always. Every trip we made back made me miss them more. I would soak up everything I could from them and carry it back with me. Sometimes it would be funny stories or family history. Sometimes recipes. Those trips were never long enough and I never brought enough back with me.
My mother is Polish. That's what makes the festival so special to me. My mother didn't cook much Polish food as I was growing up. When her grandparents came here, they were Americans and preferred for their children and grandchildren to be that way too. There are recipes that have been passed on and I treasure them, but I love that the reason that some of the traditions haven't been passed down is because of how much they loved this country. I'm thankful for their patriotism in many ways. During some family history research, I found record of my great-grandfather's registration for the draft during World War II. He was in his fifties.
The festival was great. We ate a little and laughed a lot. The next day was spent visiting my family. I couldn't help but notice that there were fewer people to visit this time. When I was growing up, we always saw "the sisters", my great aunts. They are all gone now. My mom's mom passed away when I was very young so her sisters were very special to me. One continued to send me a dollar in a card on my birthday even after I was married. They are all gone now. The girls and I had lunch with two of my aunts then went to visit my grandmother. That was a very bittersweet visit. She still lives in the same house she has lived in since the 50's, the house my dad grew up in. My grandmother has always been a very strong willed, independent woman but this visit was different. She forgot my name during my visit and I saw her as vulnerable for the first time. I drove away from her house in tears, the same way I left as a child.
We went straight to visit my uncle, aunt and cousin. When I was christened in the Catholic Church, my uncle was my godfather. He has made me laugh my whole life. When the Buccanners broke their cold weather curse in the 2002 season, I was with my uncle watching them beat his Bears. There is no one like him. He fought lung cancer and kicked it's tail. It cost him a lung and a leg, but he's a survivor and still has a lot of living to do. He just doesn't know it yet. Seeing his face after all he's been through was a moment I will never forget. I pray that he will have new dreams sometime soon and see how much living he still has to do. His daughter, my younger cousin, was there with her children. She is an incredible mother and has incredible kids. I loved spending time with them all. It was an emotionally exhausting day but a good day.
Driving back to O'hare, there was so much on my mind. My expectations of this trip didn't meet the reality. I left with a heavy heart but the feeling of being so blessed as well. When I was young, my grandparents were younger than everyone else's. When I was in the sixth grade, they had an Atari, a water bed and a Moped. My grandpa has been gone a long time and my grandmother is finally getting old. I have to start being okay with that. My uncle beat the cancer that took his father at a younger age. He still has a twinkle in his eyes. I believe he's going to open them soon and start living again. We brought home lots of good memories, Garrett's popcorn and a "Polish Mafia" t-shirt for my son. He said it was the best shirt he's ever seen.
