I had three great aunts that were nuns; Sister Olivia Marie, Sister Anna Marie and Sister Mary Catherine.
They were Franciscan Sisters out of Oldenburg, Indiana. Every year for my birthday I would get a card from all three of them. Inside would be three personal notes and three prayer cards.
As the years went along, their signatures became a bit more scribbled. The last five or ten years when they were all still alive, I’d get a phone call as well. They wanted to make sure that I received their card up there in Chicago.
They would each take turns on the telephone receiver. Telling me how much they love me, how much Jesus loves me and how they pray for me everyday.
I miss that phone call, but I know they still pray for me. I can hear their little angelic nun voices everywhere.
I turned fifty eight fucking years old yesterday. I kept it under the radar.
Like most old sonabitches, I went to dinner just before four o’clock last night.
Just me and George.
I have a feeling that most of my remaining life will be just me and George. Then someday, George will go to the Golden Steer and tell the waitress that he always came with his father.
I did get a present from my mom and dad yesterday. They got me the same thing they gave me fifty years ago on my eighth birthday. An Evel Knievel stunt motorcycle.
I know, I know…. My parents are in heaven!
I get myself a birthday present every year and wrap it a couple days beforehand. I sign, From Mom and Dad. It is a little bittersweet, but it sure as hell does a great job of keeping them close.
After all, It was the two of them that I met 21,186 days ago on my first day of birth.
I do want to end with one last thing. I keep the kitchen radio on 24/7. Most of the week it’s tuned on to the classical station.
When I walked into the kitchen early yesterday morning, they were playing “Rhapsody in Blue.” A song that reminds me of my dad. When we got back from dinner, a Scott Joplin ragtime song was playing. My mom always played “The Entertainer” for me on the piano when “The Sting” came out in the theaters.
So my parents really were with me on my birthday…
…the mystery of our faith!
Fifty eight and looking great. As long as I don’t have a grabber and getting up in the morning is the second hardest thing of the day…
…it’s going to be a great trip around that smiling sun.
…and the people in my life, you know I’m going to keep on loving you, because it’s the only thing I want to do.
As I was proofreading today’s Morning Chalkboard, the wind chimes in my bedroom window started banging out a sweet melody.
It sounded like three nuns praying from heaven.
