Chicago Fog
![](https://static.wixstatic.com/media/9ed0c1_7a9f7e832af8488cbd2a27b0f029b296~mv2_d_4896_3264_s_4_2.jpg/v1/fill/w_980,h_653,al_c,q_85,usm_0.66_1.00_0.01,enc_avif,quality_auto/9ed0c1_7a9f7e832af8488cbd2a27b0f029b296~mv2_d_4896_3264_s_4_2.jpg)
A fog forever shrouds Chicago for me. The fog consists of grief, regret, and unfulfilled promise.
I fell in love with Chicago in high school. The 1985 Chicago Bears championship season sparked my imagination of the city. The city was electric with their victory. There were boundless possibilities. I only had to get myself there and I could get in on the excitement. I desperately wanted to move to the big city. I applied to Northwestern University, despite lacking the grades or finances. I hoped my enthusiasm for I place I had never visited before would somehow get me there.
Enthusiasm and a dream apparently are not enough to get into a top-flight school. My dream of moving to Chicago would have to wait until after I graduated from the less rigorous and less pricey state university. However, this was only a temporary setback.
Shortly after graduating college, I convinced my employer to move me to Chicago as part of opening a new office. I took with me a new wife and my ongoing dreams of conquering the big city. I soon started to set down roots. We bought a house in the suburbs. We made friends. I was promoted.
![](https://static.wixstatic.com/media/9ed0c1_1034b52d09904e1e89b5a5542f64b4ae~mv2_d_4608_2988_s_4_2.jpg/v1/fill/w_980,h_635,al_c,q_85,usm_0.66_1.00_0.01,enc_avif,quality_auto/9ed0c1_1034b52d09904e1e89b5a5542f64b4ae~mv2_d_4608_2988_s_4_2.jpg)
However, the dream never panned out. My wife suffered the first of many miscarriages. The loss of the baby devastated her. I was not equipped to help her with the grief. I felt the loss too, but never really dealt with it myself. Her recovery, both physically and emotionally became the priority. In the end, she moved back to our hometown to recover and never returned to our home in Chicago. I made the choice to follow her back to save my marriage. I had to give up my dreams of the big city. I sold our home in Chicago, moved back to Ohio and did my best to support my wife. The losses, however, were too great. The marriage didn’t last. I lost my faith that dreams could come true. In essence, life happened.
![](https://static.wixstatic.com/media/9ed0c1_bbba5d3f5c8d447f91167b4cdc00b723~mv2_d_4896_3264_s_4_2.jpg/v1/fill/w_980,h_653,al_c,q_85,usm_0.66_1.00_0.01,enc_avif,quality_auto/9ed0c1_bbba5d3f5c8d447f91167b4cdc00b723~mv2_d_4896_3264_s_4_2.jpg)
Every time I travel to Chicago, I remember those couple of years. Melancholy always takes over. I think of the loss of a child. I think of the loss of my hoped for future. Chicago is always in a fog.