2023
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 “Moonriver” for them.
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.
2022
Forty years ago today, January 10th, 1982 the Midwest was hit by a Polar Vortex. The Cincinnati Bengals had a playoff game that day in -40 degree wind chills. I was 15 and about 50 miles up the road in Greensburg, Indiana.
That day was my Great Gramma’s 100th birthday. It was a huge celebration for the family. The whole town celebrated this grand day on one of the coldest days in Hoosier history.
It didn’t stop my Great Gramma or her ten daughters. Most of my Great Aunts actually made it into their late nineties. My Gramma lived to 106. Tough German family running errands and making preparations for the day.
They had a mass and a banquet planned. It was the last mass that I served as an Altar boy. By that time I was the Minnie Minosa of Altar boys.
In fact it was the first time I drove a car on a highway. I had my learners permit and my mom let me drive down from Indianapolis to Greensburg on the interstate.
I was a badass that weekend. An altar boy that can drive….
One thing I learned that weekend was my family had a strong work ethic. If something needed to be done, do it! Find something to do or I’ll find something for you! There was NO sitting around if we wanted this to go off without any snags.
Well it all worked out and Gramma Stier passed away about a year later.
My Great Gramma is one of many that look down on me every morning. They watch me put my shoulder down and scrum into everyday full throttle.
I’m not sure what inspired a German woman who lived from 1882 until 1983 in a small Indiana community. She did instill her strong faith and no nonsense view in those that she raised.
Back then they didn’t wait for miracles. They just got up every morning and went to work.
It’s 2022 and many of the people who gathered on that cold Sunday have passed away, but the Altar boy is getting up and going to work on this cold January morning.
Happy Heavenly Birthday Gramma Stier…..
2021
I don’t know if this gloomy Sunday in January has any answers to where our civilization is heading or where our government is going....
I do know the team I have followed since I was a little boy plays the team I have followed since my first trip to NOLA!
Just like the political party I have backed since my youth The Chicago Bears have tarnished my faith.
Don Shepley just whispered in my ear, “The Damn GOP and the F’ing Halas family don’t give a shit about you Moose!”
At that point I picture my dad in heaven walking past George Halas in a Chicago Cardinals sweatshirt!
Geaux Saints!!!
Happy Friday!
2019
Listen to David Bowie Day! Another cold day, but it’s Thursday and that’s better than a cold Monday!
