It is 1:27am on a Tuesday morning and I just left a crowded restaurant. I was sitting at a table with new friends, old friends and family and friends who were visiting from heaven.
The restaurant was an old place that’s been torn down since the early 1990’s called Sauers. It was an old Bierstube located around 2300 south off of Michigan Avenue. It was a Don Shepley joint. A place where he ordered an extra beer for the table that was cleverly placed near his teenage son.
These last couple nights have taken me to the north side of Indianapolis and the near Southside of Chicago. I don’t think it has anything to do with me, but what my purpose is for others.
I’ve been laying here for ten minutes thinking how I’m going to pull this next paragraph out of my rear end.
So here goes…..
Over the weekend someone very dear to me experienced tragedy. A friend that has put up with my shenanigans the last five years. A friend that’s been there more often for me than me for them. A friend that needs the straight F’s. Faith, Family and Friends….
I talk to Don and Ceil, Mary and Jesus often about my friend. They were at Sauers this morning eating dinner with me. I’m not sure why I woke up from a great dinner with an interesting group. I know at one point in the conversation the tragic event that occurred over the weekend was mentioned.
The older we get the more opportunities to experience loss. My age group is losing parents left and right. We are losing siblings and colleagues and some of us have lost a child.
Every other Sunday my redheads leave me. They leave the comfort of my arms and the warmth of my home. Every other Sunday I sit in Betty or on the couch and grieve. Fortunately Hazel and Fritz come home and see George and I every Wednesday. Then I grieve again Wednesday night after they leave.
Every other Sunday and every Wednesday I’m saddened with loss, but they are still around next week to love and cherish. They come back so I can make pancakes for them and prepare showers for them and sing “Moon River” for them.
My dear friends whose children were just having dinner at Sauers with me don’t come home on Wednesdays and every other weekend. It’s comforting to know Don ordered beers for them at dinner tonight.
I’m a weirdo that talks to my parents while I’m grocery shopping. I’m the weirdo looking at the stars that have become symbols for lost souls. I’m the weirdo waking up before the bars are closed to pray with a Jewish virgin while I’m laying in my underwear.
I’m not sure why I was running through Broad Ripple yesterday or having a late night dinner near Soldier Field an hour ago.
We all have a ton of stress and grief to deal with these days. Sharing it with each other through support, prayer and love is all we have.
If they can do it on a football field in Cincinnati we can do it in the bread aisle at The Jewels and Kroger’s.
2023 is the new beginning for Support, Prayer and Love. Just try not to wake up in the middle of the night too often.
