Where everybody knows your name . . .

I've lived in Chicago for over eight years now, including six years in my current neighborhood. What I could not get over for the first few years I lived here was how rarely I ran into anyone I knew around town. It's a little thing, but any time I went to the grocery store or a bar or the library or a restaurant, I saw another person I knew (like to greet and talk to) maybe one in twenty outings. Maybe.

I did (and do) have some friends and family living in Chicago, lest you think I wandered the streets alone and lonely and holed up in my apartment in those dark, pre-DVR days. But, I don't know, it felt kind of sad to be to be so anonymous in so many places.

Now that Bub is almost four and we've lived in our house for almost five years, I am more likely to run into people I know. I've met other moms at kiddie classes and parks. I have a network of friends and acquaintances from Bub's school (which is part of our parish), and we still have friends from undergrad, graduate schools, and former jobs that we happen upon or get together with, as well as friends of friends we've gotten to know over the years. Again, we're not lonely and alone, and I am thankful for that.

But, but, well . . . I still would like to feel more connected.

On Sunday evening, hubby and I attended a very lovely holiday party at the home of our behind-the-alley neighbors. Great food. We enjoyed being out of our house, of course, and chatting with familiar and unfamiliar party guests.

The host of the party offered us a quick tour of their place. In their lower level, they had two young women watching their son and other kids (ours were at home) who had come to the party with their parents. One of the babysitters looked so familiar to me, and it took me a second to place her. I confirmed her name with our host and then approached her. She recognized me right away and greeted me with a warm and enthusiastic hug. How did we know each other, asked the host.

The truth is that we do not know each other that well, but we are connected. We took turns offering our common ties:

I explained that she graduated from high school with my brother.

She explained that her mom was my eighth grade teacher. I piped in to add that my class was her mom's first class.

She reminded me that she worked for six years for a man who is one of my dad's best friends. The same place where my cousins worked for so many years, I clarify to my husband.

We had already freaked out my neighbor a little bit, but really we had only scratched the surface.

I could have added that her uncle was my dad's best man and is my youngest sister's godfather.

It turns out that the other babysitter went to college with another person we know in common -- daughter of my grade school principal, teammate of my sister, grade school and high school classmate of my brother, former girlfriend of the brother of one of my closest high school friends.

So many connections and, again, it's not like I know this young woman very well. It's not like we've had hundreds of conversations or even more than a handful of interactions, if that. But I was so, so happy to see her and to experience for that moment, the feeling of being connected (in a non corporate-networking way).

I guess if I still lived in the area where I grew up (which I would be happy to do, by the way), these layers of connections and multiple, twisting ties would not be such a big deal to me. I would probably take them for granted or even get annoyed that everyone knew my business and history.

But I think I'm missing out a bit.

I know that my husband and I will work hard to become part of the community where we raise our kids. I hope that our children will build and experience a sense of history and connection with friends, neighbors, classmates, teammates, fellow parishioners, and the like.

I have to say though that I mourn the fact that, as our life is now, it is not likely that our kids will ever have the layers of connections and ties that exist when you live in the same area where your parents grew up, graduate from the same high school as your parents and other relatives, and on and on.

We have a good life here, and I look forward to all the stages still to come with school and sports and everything that comes with grade school and high school age children. I wish my family and oldest friends were right down the street, but they're not. I am thankful, however, for the people we know now and who we will know . . . those who do and will constitute our community and sense of connection.

I will continue to treasure the unexpected moments of recognition and connection that come my way.