Being an only child taught me how to get things done for myself. There was no safety net, no sibling to lean on. My ex-wife was never steady enough to rely on, and at a certain point, my parents gave me the push I needed...
...they kicked me out of the nest so I could learn how to fly.
Then one day, they were both gone, off to heaven before I had a chance to thank them for that nudge.
And just like that, I was alone. Since then, I’ve carried a quiet vow inside: I will never be a burden to my children.
The other day, I saw an old Chevy Blazer at a red light. It looked just like Betty. My heart sank a little when I couldn’t remember her name right away. “Green Blazer… Green Blazer… What the hell was that car’s name?” It took a few beats before “Betty” came back to me.
Last week, I was deep in a conversation about global diplomacy and couldn’t recall Henry Kissinger’s name. That shook me. Forgetfulness like that scares the living hell out of me. Because the moment I can’t rely on myself… that’s the moment I fear most.
The Cubs swept the Sox over the weekend, another SouthSide heartbreak. The Pope might be a Sox fan, but he needs to use his energy for other things.
And looking ahead, the week leading into Memorial Day is shaping up colder than usual. Feels like Autumn is bitch slapping Spring around a little. Just so Spring gets the upper hand back for the weekend cookout and that five hundred mile trip on Sunday.
I didn't put a smile on the sun today, but that shouldn't keep you from finding astonishment on a Monday.
Gusto Baby.......
