Where He Came To Be

I haven't been back in ten years but in many ways it felt like a lifetime ago that I was there. A trip back to where it all began was in some ways very painful and in other ways cathartic. Initially, he had no interest in going, didn't see how it pertained to him at all. But on the way home, he quietly, knowingly thanked me. For showing him where he came to be.

I could have gone to Eastern and saved myself eight years of student loan payments. But the minute I set foot on campus, I knew Augie was the right fit for me.

I lived all four years in the same residence hall (the building on the right). Set on perhaps the only hill in the state of Illinois, I learned quickly my freshman year that 564 stairs between me and breakfast would keep me in shape without even trying. Now, there are brand new 'dorms' (I'm allowed to say that 15 years after being an R.A.), a security system and an empty front desk (where I used to manage a staff of 20 students). But some things never change.

Men are still not allowed unescorted in the 'Virgin Vault'.

Some sights are just as beautiful as they ever were making me wonder how 15 years could go by so quickly.
The library that was built early on in my collegiate career. I avoided it at all cost, only going in long enough to photocopy whatever materials I needed so I could return to my room to study.

The snack bar where I spent many mealtimes reading my mail over a deli sandwich and Sun Chips.

When I heard about the trajedies at Virginia Tech and NIU, my mind always pictured Old Main, the building where I spent many hours in classes on religion, history, literature. The true icon of the college.

No tour of campus would be complete without standing on the now snow-covered spot where his dad and I were married. The day so memorable for so many reasons:

it was the day before graduation when we stood outside the chapel and said our vows; the people in attendance few, but significant then; the weekend marking the last time I saw my mother out of bed and full of life; a day I would look back on many times during the divorce and wonder what did I know then that might have changed the outcome.

We stood on the banks of the Mighty Mississippi, the bridge in the background, and I thought about the years that have gone by. I thought about the husband I fell in love with during a Modern Fiction class my freshman year. While I watched the eagles floating over the river, I thought about the man I married and 8 years later divorced. I knew that I could look back regretfully if I chose. But there, in between me and all those memories, walking next to me along the campus paths, shopping with me for sweatshirst in the bookstore, throwing snowballs and laughing all the way, was the one who makes regret impossible.

A few short blocks away was the townhouse we lived in for three years after we were married. It was the home LM first came home to as a newborn; the home he left when he was too young to remember it. The home I left on my fifth wedding anniversary for a new start in Pennsylvania.

No trip back memory lane would be complete without sandwiches from Arthur's. The owner is still the same, only the pictures on the walls have changed (for the better). I used to sit in a booth surrounded by the man that I loved and all our friends. Now I sat with the boy that I love and our dear friends. Some things never change.

Even the ice cream still tastes as sweet.