The Fairfield Inn treated us well— good sleep. The breakfast spread hit the spot too. After breakfast, we regrouped in the room, then checked out, reloaded the car, topped off the tank, and found our way back to I-65 north.
All along our journey, tractor trailers were traveling on both sides of the interstate in heavy numbers. Sometimes, we even saw flatbed train cars hauling the trailers too.
This morning, I noticed on the back of a trailer from the Danny Herman Trucking Company the following words:
Isaiah 40:30: Trust.
Mr. Herman’s company is based in Mountain City, Tennessee. Scripture references are standard on the back of all of their trailers.
I-65 is straight and flat. Both sides of the interstate are dominated by farmland. No signs of spring are visible on this gray overcast morning. In fact, if I didn’t know this was April, this morning easily looks and feels like November or February.
From the roadway, singular farmhouses, barns, and fields seem lonely, like they are looking for spring to swoop in for a rescue.
But occasionally, I see a slight sign of spring. A hopeful farmer has given his fields an early plowing turning the dark rich soil over as a message to the remnants of winter—you need to leave, I’m ready to plant.
We continue passing trucks. Soon we are connecting with I-90 that will carry us into Chicago. Behind us are once thriving industrial towns of Gary and Hammond, Indiana. Brief glimpses of Lake Michigan are cast in the distance, and it isn’t long before the skyline of Chicago comes into view.
With minimal unpleasant language from me, we are finally on Lakeshore Drive. Familiar landmarks serve as a reminder of poet, Carl Sandburg, poem “Chicago.” Yes, we are in “the City of Big Shoulders.”
The LaSalle Avenue exit is waiting for us. A few more turns and we stop in front of our destination. The street is deserted. New water pipes had been installed by the city. Per order of the city, no parking is allowed on the street prior to 7 p.m. until repaving is completed.
Our son-in-law is present to help us unload. The goal is one trip. With hands full, we make the hike up the stairs to the third floor.
It is a good aerobic workout, and worth every step. At the top landing, our daughter and granddaughter are waiting. The radiant, expectant mother is about to pop, and our granddaughter is dressed like a princess.
The Commander Supreme, now called Nahna, is quickly out of control with a bag of surprises for the Princess. Her sweet charms as a grandmother work their magical bonding and with no hesitation from the Princess, they are off to play.
After lunch from Potbelly Sandwich Shop, the afternoon is a combination of running errands and instruction. We receive instruction on everything related to keys, vehicles, technology, and all of the finer details on how to manage the routines of the Princess. I’m told we will be quizzed before the expecting parents depart for the hospital on Thursday.
Gray clouds, no sunshine, below average temperatures, and a brisk wind keep us inside after the running of errands. Plus, the weather forecast called for the late afternoon rain to change to snow with a possible accumulation of 1-3 inches. Local media reports this April in Chicago has been the second coldest on record in 130 years.
Around lunch time, our daughter had received the orders from the doctor and confirmation of when to be at the hospital on Thursday. After dinner, she and her husband made sure they had everything ready for the trip to the hospital. They were planning to Uber to the hospital.
Large snowflakes were falling steadily as we prepped for bed. I watched the flakes in light cast by streetlights as they tumbled toward the hard surfaces below.
Again, I was ready for some sleep, but thankful for a safe arrival in Chicago, and thankful that Nahna and I are available to help out.
I thought back to the Isaiah scripture reference on the the back of the truck with the word— Trust.
Thursday, April 19 would be a day grounded in trust. Trust that the good Lord would continue the baby journey with our daughter and her husband, and trust that all the medical personnel involved with this birthing are at their best.
might be baloney 