Another month draws to a close and summer has hit full stride. It is hard to believe 2025 is already halfway in the books, it barely feels like it has begun.
The only proof is in the calendar...
...we have moved through winter into spring and now the Summer of 2025, but it feels like I just put the Christmas tree away yesterday.
Years that end in “5” have always carried weight for me.
1975, I was nine. My parents were splitting up, I changed schools and I was learning that life doesn’t always go according to plan. But that same year, a new running back brought electricity to a Bears team still trying to find its footing out of last place.
By 1985, I was nineteen, caught in the limbo between adolescence and adulthood. That same running back was a seasoned pro who finally reached the mountaintop. I was still figuring out which way was up.
1995 brought early morning opening bells and late night last calls. I was driving a Cadillac, I bought a leather couch at Marshall Fields and I was standing in a trading pit making a decent living. I didn’t realize how good I had it. I had the world on a string and I was sitting on a rainbow.
2005, I was a newlywed on the edge of fatherhood. The White Sox brought home a title, and for a while, everything felt right.
2015 found me with three kids, a full home, and a marriage beginning to show its cracks. I was deep in the joy of parenting and the confusion of everything else.
Now it is 2025, and I don’t have the hindsight yet to sum it all up. What I do know is that I’ve gone from a young man to middle age and now into whatever comes next...
... something Sinatra called the autumn years.
I’m not looking at the box scores every morning. I can’t even tell you who won the last Super Bowl. I’m not looking ahead to 2035 with dread. I’m hoping by then, the Shepkids are standing tall in adulthood and I’ve transitioned gracefully from commodity broker to a man with more mornings on the porch than the pit.
Life moves fast. The decades turn over like pages, and each one teaches you something you didn’t know the last time around.
So here is to the start of July. The start of another chapter, maybe a quieter one, but no less meaningful.
Finish June strong you Chalkheads. Celebrate liberty and freedom this week. Keep the beer cold, check the propane and for heaven’s sake, change your bedsheets.
