A journalist observes life in the far north.
I leave in about 30 minutes to pick up my brother from the airport. It’s after 11 p.m., and I just got Lucky to sleep. A pile of clothes on the couch needs folding and the sink is full of dirty dishes but otherwise our place looks like humans live here and not animals. I worked today, covering a child abuse luncheon involving a bunch of social worker types.
I haven’t seen my brother since our mother’s funeral in 2004, but we e-mail and Greg sends postcards from his adventures around the globe. Still, I am nervous and excited. I hope I don’t start crying at the airport. Displays of emotion like that make Greg uncomfortable. I am hearing more and more about a woman in his life, so it will be fun to talk in person about his plans.
I think Greg and Alec will like each other. Both have spent time at sea. Greg said he is very excited to meet Lucky. He also has a blue-eyed blonde daughter. Her name is Megan. Greg has son too, named Josh. Someone asked me their ages today and I realized that they are both teenagers. I haven’t seen my niece and nephew since my mom’s funeral.
Most of my people live in Northern Illinois. Greg and I are among the few to leave home. It makes me feel sort of like we are conspirators.