This Tender Heart

I come home from work to find my teen daughter crying on her bed. She is 16, a high school junior, a virtual replica of myself at that age, both in looks and demeanor. The tears rolling down her face are hot and angry. When I try to hug her, I can feel the way every muscle in her body is taut, and my mind immediately thinks of a snake, coiled and backed into a corner, ready to strike defensively at the slightest provocation.

A DIY Writing Retreat

For as far back as I can remember, going on a writing retreat has held a certain allure. Blame it on my third-grade teacher, who encouraged me to enter a writing contest through the school. When my story advanced to state, I got the exciting news: I was invited to spend an entire Saturday at Illinois State University with other elementary school-aged writers. That day, I met my first real author, as I clutched a hardcover book that she signed on the inside cover with large loopy letters.

Sophia’s Little Library Delivers Hope to Parents

ELBURN — Nina and Derek Braasch are channeling their grief from unspeakable tragedy by reaching out to help others. In memory of their daughter, Sophia, who lived only 40 days in 2022 after being born prematurely, the couple created a book drive called Sophia’s Little Library. They have been collecting and donating children’s books to Neonatal Intensive Care Units (NICUs) at area hospitals so that parents can read to their babies.

The Braasches struggled with infertility for seven years before happily conceiving after an IVF procedure in 2021.

The Cosmic Loophole of Pee-Wee’s Playhouse

The headline came to my phone while I was at work: “Pee-Wee Herman Actor Paul Reubens Dead at Age 70.” My heart sank. I waited for the world around me to take a collective moment to remember Paul Reubens. But in the office, phones kept ringing and computer keyboards kept clacking. My younger coworkers may not even know who Paul Reubens is. Was. But I knew.

I spent my tween and teen years in sighs and sulks, muttering under my breath all the ways I was being deprived of the over-the-top 80s childhood to which I felt entitled.

Labor of Love takes Pete to the Street

HUNTLEY — “Start something and stay dedicated to it”— that’s the lesson Peter Unverzagt, age 64, learned from his father while growing up. It’s part of the reason he has spent nearly every afternoon for the past five years as a street preacher in the Huntley community.

If you’ve driven past Deicke Park in Huntley, then perhaps you’ve seen him: standing with a cross and an American flag, waving to people as they travel along Highway 47.

When asked what moved him to start his street ministry in 2018, Unverzagt isn’t sure.

Snapshots of the Heart Last a Lifetime

After raising four children, I have certain mental snapshots I keep close to my heart. There was the day when my 5-year-old held my hand to cross the street. He paused to look up at me and said, “Momma, I love you so hard.”

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There are those first few seconds when, after glancing over their shoulder, the realization sets in: Dad has let go of the back of the seat and they are, in fact, riding a two-wheeled bike.

Weaving in the Imperfections

I slid a slightly crooked hand-woven bookmark into the envelope before sealing it and mailing it to a friend. I attached a note:

My newest fascination is hand weaving on a loom. I made this bookmark for you. It’s one of my first, but I’ll send another one after I’ve had more practice. Hopefully you’ll see my progress. Happy Reading!

A hands-on fiber arts exhibit at an art museum in Wisconsin was where I first tried a loom —— just a wooden frame strung with cotton thread.

Taking a 10-Minute Mini Vacation

Even though my school years are long behind me, I still expect that once the calendar flips to June, summer vacation is supposed to magically appear. Remember those delicious days of summer vacation as a kid? Sprinklers on the lawn? Dreamsicles from the ice cream truck? Long days at the city pool, counting out change at the concession stand to buy nachos and a slurpee while the grownups commandeered the pool during Adult Swim?

Somehow I can’t let go of those endless summer days.

A Second Chance at Hello

You never get a second chance to make a first impression.

—Will Rogers

As much as I’d like you to think that my Gentleman Friend and I have been married blissfully and perfectly happy for the past several decades, I’m going to take a risk and tell you that sometimes, we fight. Our fights aren’t typically the loud, plate-throwing variety. We’ve mastered the art of subtle tiffs, starting out as a tiny slight that grows into a stand-off —— and I am the half of us most guilty of this —— in an all-encompassing silence that can be louder than a freight train.

Uninvited: Man vs. Fowl

My husband is in a week-long standoff with a robin who insists on building a nest on the crossbeam of our porch.

We are a bird-friendly family. We don’t put chemicals on our lawn, put out birdseed in the winter, and we are delighted when our bird friends chirp happily from the branches of our crabapple tree out our front window. But even our bird loving has limits.

Most weeknights, I’m out on the front porch catching up on the day with my husband or daughter.

Too Difficult to Even Try: A Conspiracy

This week I made spanakopita for the first time. It is a savory spinach pie consisting of spinach, feta cheese, egg, and fresh herbs, surrounded by flaky layers of phyllo dough. I love it.

Given the choice, I will always choose a spanakopita appetizer or entree at a restaurant or party.

Anyway, I never made it before. It was too hard to make at home; at least that’s what I’d heard. I envisioned a scene wiping away the sweat at my temples with the back of my hand, flyaway strands of hair escaping my ponytail.

Loving in Specifics, not Platitudes

I may have mentioned before in this column about my love of true-crime shows and podcasts. I enjoy hearing about the evidence, the motives, the sometimes-arbitrary clue that will reveal itself by chance, leading to some top-shelf detective work. All of this, plus the final swift arm of justice that comes down on the perpetrator, are all satisfying parts of these shows.

But there is one segment that always comes up short for me: the point when a family member or two describe their loved one.

“Everything’s Good” at the Irie Cup

HUNTLEY — "Irie” is a Jamaican greeting and response that means “everything’s good.” It’s how Joe and LaShanda Lewis hope their customers feel when brewing and sipping some of their high-quality tea.

The Irie Cup, their new tea shop located on Main St. in Huntley, is a place where the couple hopes to share their knowledge and love for tea and herbal blends born out of their family roots.

Both Joe and LaShanda grew up in families of Jamaican heritage, where tea and herbs were woven into the fabric of everyday life.

Making Do: The Food of Discovery

Every household probably has a go-to meal they whip up when there’s “no food in the house.” Maybe for you it’s a pb&j. A bowl of cereal can be nice. Some pasta with a little olive oil, garlic, and lemon, perhaps?

For our family it’s egg bread. When you’re just about out of everything, hopefully you can at least scrounge up an egg and a slice of bread. We heat up our favorite tiny cast iron skillet, dab it with a bit of butter or oil, then crack an egg and drop it onto the hot skillet.

Head for the trees when it’s all too much

The immediate neighborhood serves as a satisfactory landscape on weekdays for morning and evening walks with the dog, but on the weekend, the forest calls. As soon as I step onto a curved path winding through the trees, my lungs begin to tingle; I gulp the air laced with the perfume of soil and wood and leaves in various stages of birth, life, and decay. I can’t get enough of it! Even bare branches teem with life.

I’m one of those people who struggle to keep up with the business of being human.

‘Raise a Slice’ in Support of Huntley Historical Society

HUNTLEY — Huntley Historical Society is offering the community a delicious way to support their mission of preserving the history of the village of Huntley, reaching back to its founding in 1851 by Thomas Huntley.

On Monday, Feb. 13, Lou Malnati’s Lakewood will donate 20% of all sales between 11 a.m. and 9 p.m. to the Historical Society.

Donna Britton, a Board Member of the Historical Society, says the organization currently leases the farmhouse on Sun Valley Farm from the Park District, and plans to eventually turn the house into a museum by bringing the structure up to code without sacrificing its style and charm as a farmhouse.

This is 22

Looking at my son’s face, it is easy for me to see him as he was when he was an infant, with silken hair kissed with just a touch of blonde. Or as a toddler, the way his cheeks would jiggle when he took halting, determined steps across the living room. I was there for all those little moments as he grew up: the birthday parties, the book reports, and the Band-Aids.

But that little toddler with the blonde hair is no longer around.

Date Night in the Glow of the Silver Screen

It was my favorite kind of date night. My Gentleman Friend asked me if I wanted to go out to see a movie, A Man Called Otto. It was Sunday night, which made going out feel a little rebellious. We were going to squeeze just a little bit more “us time” out of the weekend.

Plans for dinner beforehand were quickly abandoned, in favor of having popcorn for dinner. Popcorn and a beer, since our local movie house now sells cans of beer placed subtly on the side of the concessions area.

Delight is Everywhere, If You Look

My word of the year for 2022 was Delight. Instead of traditional New Year’s resolutions, I’ve tried to focus on one word to shape how I approach another year of life. So this year was about finding delight in the ordinary: being more spontaneous, tuning in to the world around me, searching for good things that might go unnoticed.

The subtext of this word, for me, instructed me on what I was not to do: I was not to let my anxiety take over moments that were otherwise beautiful.

Patrick Gorse: Gratitude in the Morning, Hope Every Day

HUNTLEY — It is an unseasonably warm day in late October when Patrick Gorse is waiting for his Christmas tree to be delivered. He stands outside, scanning the road for a delivery truck. “Some delivery guys are unsure about going down this road in front of the house,” he says.” I like to go out there and meet them.”

Patrick Gorse, 67, has good reason to look forward to Christmas this year. He is alive and comfortable living on a bucolic Huntley farm — a complete reversal from where he was in 2015: homeless at age 60 on the streets of Los Angeles, his life hanging in the balance because of decades of addiction.

This particular typewriter, an electric model, sat on a lower shelf at the local thrift store. I knew right away that I wouldn’t buy it; I’m a purist, more interested in manual typewriters. Still, this model was gorgeous, and I brushed my fingertips across its keys.

Pomp(adour) and Circumstance

It was just 30 minutes before we had to go to the high school for the graduation ceremony, and it suddenly got quiet in the house. I couldn’t imagine where everyone had gone. Just a few minutes before, my son was frantically asking, “Where’s my tie?” “Has anyone seen my tassel?”

Now? I heard nothing.

I noticed a soothing yellow shaft of light coming through the barely-open bathroom door in our dark hallway, and I approached with utmost caution: Mommy-ing 101 has taught me the important lesson that bathroom doors that are slightly ajar could spell trouble: I listened carefully for sounds of trouble, and by trouble, I mean vomiting.

Young author advocates for mental health of teens

HUNTLEY - Just as Hannah Soukup, 17, was rounding out her junior year of high school, she was putting the finishing touches on her first book.

As she heads into her senior year, she has her sights set on writing a sequel.

Soukup’s novella, To Be Consumed, tells a heartbreakingly tender story of Caleb, who falls in love with his smart and outspoken classmate, El. The couple’s relationship is riddled with complications from the start, first from the ever-shifting landscape of high school popularity, then later by mental illness and substance abuse.

THE DOORWAY TO OUR COMMUNITY