why dorothy and toto went over the rainbow to blow off auntie em

i'm working on about two hours of sleep. up all night, fidgety as can be, worried about my family. kinda have a medical trifeca rolling between my dad and his leukemic ailments, my mother's recent breast cancer findings and the very serious possibility that my brother has multiple sclerosis.

while i am here:



using this:



to navigate this:



all my immediate family is here:



using many, many of these:



to make their way through this:



only 300 miles betwixt the two cities, but miles beyond in terms of differences. i don't hate da lou, but i'm so very reluctant to be there again. there's a deep fear receded within me that worries i'll never leave there if i go back. now, i've mentioned plenty that chicago won't be the last stop for my residence, but in the very recent past, i've found myself falling in love with my city over and over again. perhaps directly connected to the thought of leaving here against my own "choosing". (it ain't really a choice to want to help your family. it's not a dire obligation either, but something i'm feeling more and more that i *want* to do.) i just would not choose for this to be the time that i need to make such an extreme move.

if my parents need me, and i'm self-employed with the freedom to move and work from my home wherever i like, is it not selfishness on my part to hesitate to make this move to help them? i'm not hesitant to help, but man, are the stakes high to pick up and leave chicago. have to evaluate further tonight as the skyline around north avenue on highway 90 greets me coming home, bringing that familiar swell to my chest every time. whether arriving from o'hare after a long biz trip or just driving home from work, this makes me incredibly happy to be here, my home.