Turning 50 has a way of getting your attention.
My parents' health was declining, and I was spending more time driving back and forth to Wisconsin to help take care of them. Those trips gave me a lot of time to think. Probably more than I wanted.
About work. Family. Relationships. Where I wanted to live. And what I wanted the next part of my life to actually look like.
I'd built a career I was proud of. I had a good life by almost any objective measure.
But good on paper and right aren't necessarily the same thing.
So I started taking inventory.
Some things needed to change. Some needed to end. And a few things I'd been putting off until "someday" needed to stop being someday.
The restaurant was one of them.
I didn't have a building. I didn't have a menu. I certainly didn't have a sensible plan.
But somewhere on those drives between Chicago and Wisconsin, the idea started becoming less hypothetical.

