6 weeks ago I landed at O’Hare airport in a psychic fetal position, more than 25 years after I left the place.  As we de-planed I remembered the time me, my mother, my brother and his Palestinian wife went to visit her grandmother in one of those squat brick buildings near the airport. She had a flat on the lower level.  They call them ‘garden apartments’ here to make them seem less depressing than what they really are; partially underground subterranean basement flats.  Built in the 1950s to house an ever-expanding population. 

I believe in dense urban housing! I am not against this style of building in general, as we flew over those brown buildings, surrounded by car parks, I thought of my brother and his now ex-wife, how hard I had worked to escape this space, I could feel my body intuitively recoil.  It was the end of the road.  Suddenly it all felt too real.  Why do I always have to do the hard thing? A sense of dread in the pit of my stomach feels like such a cliche yet that is the only way to describe it. 

Here I am. The prodigal daughter returns? Am I the midwest’s native daughter?  What kind of homecoming is this where I feel nothing but existential dread?  I have done this to myself. I have chosen this.

It was dark when my beloved and I left Holloway Road for the airport. At first 6 months didn’t seem like a long time to be parted but as we approach the airport in the pre-dawn quiet the finality of it all began to hit me.  Still, I was more preoccupied with making sure I was checked into my flight and had dropped my bag and hadn’t forgotten anything.  We have done this before I kept trying to reassure myself.  

We have some time before boarding, so we sit on a couch and just hold each other.  We discuss our plans to find each other if shit really hits the fan.  I am to destroy my American passport and try to claim sanctuary in Canada, then make my way to Vancouver.  I joke about needing to learn how to sail so I can cross the Pacific ocean if needed.  There is the pretension of lighthearted banter, but I feel like we both want to cry.  Finally it is time to board.  A quick hug and a kiss goodbye before I enter the queue to go through security.  After a few steps I turn back for one last look, but he is already walking away, the back of a tall figure in grey disappearing towards the still dark morning.   

Before I left he looked at me very earnestly and said please come back.  And with 100% conviction in my heart I promised I would.