Muff, I can just imagine you tonight, sitting down in an easy chair in front of a TV set, with some popcorn watching your beloved Chicago Cubs playing game 7 of the World Series!
You once told me that your grandmother started you and your siblings watching the Chicago Cubs on TV when you were very young. Apparently, you sometimes had to hang out with your grandmother in order to get fed, and while there, she instilled a love of baseball in you that lasted your entire life.
Here's an article in the New York Times about tonight's game: http://www.nytimes.com/2016/11/02/sports/baseball/world-series-chicago-cubs.html?_r=0
You should know that my mother, who is also a baseball fan of many years, is watching the games in your memory, and cheering for the Cubs, just as she believes you would do.
She calls me after every game and says "Muff and I cheered the Cubs on to victory!" Though she's an atheist, she believes you are right there beside her in spirit, and I sincerely hope she's right. I can't see how telling an almost 80 year old woman otherwise would do any good. Mom has always been strong willed about her beliefs.
I imagine your brothers and sister are also watching the Chicago Cubs with great glee. The Cubs haven't been in the World Series for over 70 years. There are elderly women in the stands who never thought they'd see the Cubs in the series during their lifetime.
Dear God how I wish you were still alive to see this historic moment in baseball history. I know you would have been thrilled....beyond thrilled.
Just in a side note, WP Kinsella, author of Shoeless Joe and the Iowa Baseball Confederacy, and the movie Field of Dreams, which you LOVED, died a couple of months ago. He had been so ill from several diseases, among them diabetes, that he committed physician-assisted suicide, to be out of pain and at rest. I hope that you two have met in Heaven and are having a great time talking baseball and books. Remember that I got him to sign a book of short stories for you.
I hope the Cubbies win, my amiga. Even if they don't, I know you will have rooted for them from above, just as my mom and I are rooting for them from down here.
Much love to you, my friend. I miss you so very much.
PS. An update, THE CHICAGO CUBS WON THE WORLD SERIES!
Way to go, Chicago! Thanks for the assist from Heaven, my amiga!
Wednesday, November 2, 2016
Wednesday, June 1, 2016
Happy 55th Birthday, Beloved Muff
I can't get this song out of my head today, my friend. It has been 8 years since your passing, and it still feels like yesterday...the wound is still fresh.
I am everything I am because you loved me.
You were my strength when I was weak
You were my voice when I couldn't speak
You were my eyes when I couldn't see
You saw the best there was in me
Lifted me up when I couldn't reach
You gave me faith cause you believed
I am everything I am because you loved me.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9CkKuA86Mis
You would have laughed at the sentimentality of this song, and told me of a "better" Irish tune, no doubt, one that was certainly more bloody and profound (and had at least one stanza in Gaelic), but, since you aren't here to scold me, I've taken liberties, amiga.
Forgive me.
I still miss you, and think of you all the time. I wonder if you can hear me when I talk to you, and plead for intercession on behalf of my family, beset with health and financial problems, and I wonder if you are able to talk to God about interfering in the affairs of His children. If so, I thank you for your blessing of friendship and care, and I pray that your spirit is happy and at peace.
Yesterday Ellen Gabrielleshi, from the Clarke Theater Dept was the professor/staff spotlight on Clarke's blog, and I remember you and Ellen laughing when you were helping to build sets or working on The Great Cross Country Race when we were freshmen. Ellen seemed to take to you, as a person, much like many others did during your time at Clarke, attracted to your wit and brilliant mind. She thought I was a lazy doofus, (and she was probably right), but she managed to not kill me for my many mistakes while I made my way through the theater program. Anyway, as I was reading her story I was reminded of how sympatico the two of you were, and how surprised I was that you took an English and History major instead of a theater major, like I did, because you were such a natural at so many things in the drama dept. You had no problem building sets, you learned lines swiftly and with ease and you could sew costumes and run a light or sound board without making any mistakes at all.
But then, I learned that your mother was a famed children's book author, and you came by your storyteller's abilities naturally. You were a reader and a bibliophile, and because of your love of books and stories, your entrance into the English dept made more sense the longer that I knew you. Though you were adept at helping build the stories told in the theater, your first love was the story on the printed page, bound between the covers of a book.
You used to hold "readings" where you'd read aloud from some book or other in your dorm room in Mary Fran, and there would be a crowd of people sitting on the floor or in the hallway, just come to listen to the tale you'd spun, mouths agape and minds engaged.
And then there were the "sagas" that you wrote, based on characters from movies, sports or TV shows, (or even just from your imagination) that you'd send to me to read, or you'd eventually post on online fan forums, once those became available in the 2000s. I always encouraged you to get an agent and sell a story to either a magazine or a publishing company, but you were reluctant to let your stories become something that you "had" to do for financial reasons and more stories that you did for fun and because you loved telling tales.
I found this quote today on Shelf Awareness (an email publication you would have adored):
"Authors are probably my favorite guests. Better than I thought they'd
be, but I should have realized they're all natural storytellers. Even
though a lot them have not been on television before, they're just
great. They have a mastery of language... and they're all so different.
I'm always going to be fascinated talking to people about writing
process."
--Seth Meyers host of NBC's Late Night with Seth Meyers, in an Observer interview
That explains why you were so great at theater, because your natural storytelling abilities shone through for the audience. I often told you, and it is still true, that I wish that I had half of your talent for writing and storytelling, and I wish I was as capable and strong and faithful as you became, and as you were, right to the end. You were amazing, best beloved.
Big hugs to you here below, on your birthday.
I am everything I am because you loved me.
You were my strength when I was weak
You were my voice when I couldn't speak
You were my eyes when I couldn't see
You saw the best there was in me
Lifted me up when I couldn't reach
You gave me faith cause you believed
I am everything I am because you loved me.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9CkKuA86Mis
You would have laughed at the sentimentality of this song, and told me of a "better" Irish tune, no doubt, one that was certainly more bloody and profound (and had at least one stanza in Gaelic), but, since you aren't here to scold me, I've taken liberties, amiga.
Forgive me.
I still miss you, and think of you all the time. I wonder if you can hear me when I talk to you, and plead for intercession on behalf of my family, beset with health and financial problems, and I wonder if you are able to talk to God about interfering in the affairs of His children. If so, I thank you for your blessing of friendship and care, and I pray that your spirit is happy and at peace.
Yesterday Ellen Gabrielleshi, from the Clarke Theater Dept was the professor/staff spotlight on Clarke's blog, and I remember you and Ellen laughing when you were helping to build sets or working on The Great Cross Country Race when we were freshmen. Ellen seemed to take to you, as a person, much like many others did during your time at Clarke, attracted to your wit and brilliant mind. She thought I was a lazy doofus, (and she was probably right), but she managed to not kill me for my many mistakes while I made my way through the theater program. Anyway, as I was reading her story I was reminded of how sympatico the two of you were, and how surprised I was that you took an English and History major instead of a theater major, like I did, because you were such a natural at so many things in the drama dept. You had no problem building sets, you learned lines swiftly and with ease and you could sew costumes and run a light or sound board without making any mistakes at all.
But then, I learned that your mother was a famed children's book author, and you came by your storyteller's abilities naturally. You were a reader and a bibliophile, and because of your love of books and stories, your entrance into the English dept made more sense the longer that I knew you. Though you were adept at helping build the stories told in the theater, your first love was the story on the printed page, bound between the covers of a book.
You used to hold "readings" where you'd read aloud from some book or other in your dorm room in Mary Fran, and there would be a crowd of people sitting on the floor or in the hallway, just come to listen to the tale you'd spun, mouths agape and minds engaged.
And then there were the "sagas" that you wrote, based on characters from movies, sports or TV shows, (or even just from your imagination) that you'd send to me to read, or you'd eventually post on online fan forums, once those became available in the 2000s. I always encouraged you to get an agent and sell a story to either a magazine or a publishing company, but you were reluctant to let your stories become something that you "had" to do for financial reasons and more stories that you did for fun and because you loved telling tales.
I found this quote today on Shelf Awareness (an email publication you would have adored):
"Authors are probably my favorite guests. Better than I thought they'd
be, but I should have realized they're all natural storytellers. Even
though a lot them have not been on television before, they're just
great. They have a mastery of language... and they're all so different.
I'm always going to be fascinated talking to people about writing
process."
--Seth Meyers host of NBC's Late Night with Seth Meyers, in an Observer interview
That explains why you were so great at theater, because your natural storytelling abilities shone through for the audience. I often told you, and it is still true, that I wish that I had half of your talent for writing and storytelling, and I wish I was as capable and strong and faithful as you became, and as you were, right to the end. You were amazing, best beloved.
Big hugs to you here below, on your birthday.
Sunday, February 28, 2016
Missing You A Lot Lately
For some reason, dear friend, I've been thinking about you and missing you a lot lately. It could be because I've gained so much weight and I have been having trouble breathing, and I wonder if it is all due to the CPAP machine and its widgy promise of helping me sleep better without apnea, which hasn't proven to be the reality. I have less deep sleep and more times waking up with breathing troubles than ever before. You had these same problems before passing unexpectedly of a heart attack in your sleep, and I would bet that the coroner lay the blame at the feet of your weight instead of investigating the impact that your CPAP had on your sleep and your snoring.
At any rate, I came across this tidbit from The Irish Way on Facebook, and I think you would have had a laugh with me about it had you seen it. Tomorrow (Monday) is February 29.
There are posts flying around on the internet that are suggesting that the tradition of a woman asking a man to marry her on the 29th Feb (leap year) was something that came about through a conversation between St Brigid and St Patrick, although this little snippet of 'history' didn't appear anywhere before the 19th century.
If it's true, you'd wonder how the conversation came about.
Biddy: "Paddy, I've been looking at this new Calendar and we've an extra day every four years, what are we going to do with that?"
Paddy: "Ah, don't be bothering me with that oul extra day Biddy, I've enough to be doing converting all the pagans, they're a mad bunch with their customs and beliefs, but gawd help me, the music is fantastic. I've to get up to Mayo and walk that bloody mountain before the snow settles on it!
Biddy: "ah yeah but ... we've an extra day Paddy, an EXTRA DAY!"
Paddy: "You think of something"
Biddy: "hmmm ... arragh I don't feckin know"
Paddy: "You like the animals, do something for them"
Biddy: "No, I need to do something for the women"
Paddy: "Biddy, I'm really busy girl, I've to be in Cashel next Friday"
Biddy: "Right, I need to do something for the women but make sure the men won't hate me for it, I'll think on it some more"
Later that night Biddy went and found Paddy. She couldn't wait until morning she was so excited, she got the torch and found him reading his 'to do' list and she said,
Biddy: "I have it Paddy ... what about something to do with love and courting?"
Paddy: "G'wan, where are you going with this idea"
Biddy: "And you know the way we want to stop the women having the same rights as the men?"
Paddy: "yeah?"
Biddy: "Well we could tell the women that every four years they can propose marriage to whoever they want and that way we don't have to tell them that they can't propose marriage anymore, just that they have to wait for the right time to do it"
Paddy: "Biddy, you're a genius"
And they all lived happily ever after.
Ah, my friend, it is so hard not to wonder how you are doing, wherever you are. Are you happy and free of pain? Are you watching out over your beloved family? I hope you've forgiven me my trespasses, my friend. Sleep well.
At any rate, I came across this tidbit from The Irish Way on Facebook, and I think you would have had a laugh with me about it had you seen it. Tomorrow (Monday) is February 29.
There are posts flying around on the internet that are suggesting that the tradition of a woman asking a man to marry her on the 29th Feb (leap year) was something that came about through a conversation between St Brigid and St Patrick, although this little snippet of 'history' didn't appear anywhere before the 19th century.
If it's true, you'd wonder how the conversation came about.
Biddy: "Paddy, I've been looking at this new Calendar and we've an extra day every four years, what are we going to do with that?"
Paddy: "Ah, don't be bothering me with that oul extra day Biddy, I've enough to be doing converting all the pagans, they're a mad bunch with their customs and beliefs, but gawd help me, the music is fantastic. I've to get up to Mayo and walk that bloody mountain before the snow settles on it!
Biddy: "ah yeah but ... we've an extra day Paddy, an EXTRA DAY!"
Paddy: "You think of something"
Biddy: "hmmm ... arragh I don't feckin know"
Paddy: "You like the animals, do something for them"
Biddy: "No, I need to do something for the women"
Paddy: "Biddy, I'm really busy girl, I've to be in Cashel next Friday"
Biddy: "Right, I need to do something for the women but make sure the men won't hate me for it, I'll think on it some more"
Later that night Biddy went and found Paddy. She couldn't wait until morning she was so excited, she got the torch and found him reading his 'to do' list and she said,
Biddy: "I have it Paddy ... what about something to do with love and courting?"
Paddy: "G'wan, where are you going with this idea"
Biddy: "And you know the way we want to stop the women having the same rights as the men?"
Paddy: "yeah?"
Biddy: "Well we could tell the women that every four years they can propose marriage to whoever they want and that way we don't have to tell them that they can't propose marriage anymore, just that they have to wait for the right time to do it"
Paddy: "Biddy, you're a genius"
And they all lived happily ever after.
Ah, my friend, it is so hard not to wonder how you are doing, wherever you are. Are you happy and free of pain? Are you watching out over your beloved family? I hope you've forgiven me my trespasses, my friend. Sleep well.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
