Between Homes

Eric is away at military training. I'm in our apartment in Chicago....packing. Here in Chicago there are no more pictures on the walls, resting on cabinets, anywhere. A stranger could walk into this 1200 square foot space and not have a clue as to the people that reside there. Bare.

Eric is set up in furnished apartment near the military base where he will begin training on Monday. It was furnished for the soldier before him, and the soldier before that soldier. It's bare as well.

There is so much power in having a home. A place to belong to. It's like a hanger for a shirt, it gives it form and strength. Four walls and a roof, doesn't matter. My home is where WE are. WE are miles apart.

WE are working, making plans, pushing towards a bright future filled with good things. Those things require a bit of blood, sweat and tears and we're in the beginnings of it now. When I was in college and things were getting tough, my Dad once said to me, "just keep your head down and keep digging." As I tape shut another box, gazing out my window to the beautiful night skyline of Chicago, this is one of those times.