Tom and I had planned on attending a workshop with an organization he belongs to the first weekend in February. We had started looking forward to it back in early September.
When it became time to finally sign up in January, I wondered if I should go at all. Would I be the only one without a spouse? He was the member of the group, would it be okay if I went without him? Was it more of a couples thing? Maybe I shouldn’t go at all.
I wanted to go though. It included an evening at an improv theater and I was ready to laugh again. I only knew a handful of the people well and the rest were basically strangers, but I was looking forward to it.
I contacted the organizer, who was a friend of Tom’s. He encouraged me to go. I was hoping he would say it was a couple’s thing, or all of the spots had been filled. But he said that, of course, I should go.
So I didn’t have any reason NOT to go. I just had to get up the courage to finalize my plans.
Okay, I could do that.
I needed to ask my folks if they could hang out with my kids for the weekend. I hoped they couldn’t. I wasn’t actually brave enough to do this, and if they were busy, then I would have to decline.
They could though.
Not only were they free to hang with my kids, they wanted to drive me and the kids up, drop me off at the hotel and then take the kids to the annual Auto Show that is a big thing in Chicago.
So everything was lining up perfectly. Part of me had hoped it wouldn’t, so I could be a martyr. “My life is terrible, I just want to have fun and I can’t even get away to do that!”
But the other part was like, “Come hell or high water, I AM going! I need to get this first outing out of the way so I can move forward!”
But it worked out and we went.
They dropped me off at the hotel and went on.
I had time to walk the neighborhood and stop in a couple of our favorite shops. The wind was cold and I realized I was crying. My tears felt like icicles. I loved this little part of town and Tom and I had stayed there many times. I missed him so much that day—so much. Luckily I didn’t have very much time, so I couldn’t get all into my own head and get too sentimental.
I decided to walk fast, check out as much of the area as I could, reminisce a little, and get that “first time” back in the city under my belt.
I dropped off some snacks in the hotel room, freshened up and met my group downstairs to wait for the shuttle. Turns out, there were two other people there without their spouses (this is something I notice now.)
We did the activities, ate the meal, had the drinks, enjoyed the show and then had more drinks.
And do you know what? I never felt alone. It never got weird. I felt embraced, and welcomed and un-lonely.
I laughed—Good laughs! I met new people. We talked about Tom. It was really good.
Later, I went back to my hotel room and there were my sweet kids already asleep.
Thank God they were there. How would it have been coming back to an empty hotel room? I’ve never done that before.
Anyway, I snuggled in for the night, so happy I ended up going. So grateful for the wonderful friends who had open arms for me. So thankful for my parents who willingly took two somewhat grumpy teenagers around Chicago.
And although, I missed Tom terribly and my tears felt frozen on my face earlier that day, I felt an immense warmth.
I laid in the hotel bed, cozy under the thick comforter, careful not to accidentally touch my teenage sleeping partner (because sharing a bed with your mom is gross) and counted my blessings.
And my cold weekend in Chicago wasn’t so cold after all.
