OF A GOLDEN AGE

after scheduling three appointments and feeling really excited for our apartment search, nathan and i felt mixed toward all three places. the one i fell in love with, and that we are going to try to get, we found from a sign on a building in a neighborhood where various people i care about have lived over the years.

we called the number and the woman came over a half-hour later; we saw this apartment first. her name is dagmar; her father owns the building and they handle all repairs themselves. it’s a six-flat less than a block from the apartment where my dad lived when he went to law school. two blocks from the el.

after the hunt was over, nathan directed me to belmont and clark, where we had dinner with his sister and her boyfriend. before that happened, though, we drove down the street where my grandmother used to live. i stopped in front of a blonde-brick building that looked so familiar it made my eyes mist over a little, and i called my dad. “where did grandma patty live?” i asked; “i’m looking at this blonde-brick place and it seems so familiar.”

“are you on cullom?” he asked.

“yeah,” i said, “a few blocks from the place we’re looking at.”

“that’s it,” he said.

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