Seen in Evanston standing outside the Metra train.
When Roseanne was a little girl, her family moved around a lot. Her father was a missionary; he felt he had been called to convert people who had been hit by all manner of natural disasters. When he encountered those whose possessions had been lost in a flood, he preached that it was a sign from God to let His Word rush through their hearts like water. When he encountered those whose homes had been consumed by wildfires, he encouraged them to let the light of the Holy Spirit burn in their souls. When he encountered those whose towns and cities had been destroyed by earthquakes, he told them that God had made the foundations of their sinful lives crumble so that they could be born again.
And so Roseanne and her family traveled the nation chasing tragedies. They could never afford to fly, and they didn't own a car; thus, trains were always where Roseanne felt most at home. She slept best when wheels were rumbling over the tracks beneath her pillow. She had a dining car instead of a dining room. Random strangers were her only friends--friends that she would only meet once in a lifetime.
Now Roseanne lives in Evanston and works in a little bookstore. Every morning she walks her dog near the Metra tracks and waves at the trains that go by. She smiles as broadly and cheerfully as she possibly can in an effort to comfort anyone else who might feel alone on a train.
Hey kids. I had a lovely Father's Day boating and watching the original True Grit with my dad. There is a busy week ahead, with much gogo dancing and concerts and such. And I just bought tickets to see Paul McCartney at Wrigley Field today, so I'm a happy camper. Hope you're all doing well, too!