Loving Remembrances

This December 21st will mark the second year of my mother's passing. I truly miss talking with her. I telephoned her 4-or-5 times a week. It was perhaps her laughter that I enjoyed the most.
I remember as a young child living on Rosemont Avenue in East St. Louis; Friday nights were my dad's union meeting nights. A fella with whom he worked attended the meetings and the man's wife would visit with mom until the men returned. I can close my eyes even today and hear those two ladies chatting in the nearby room. Their voices were soft and soothing and my mother's voice was particularly comforting and reassuring. Her vocal tones soon brought quiet slumber to a 11 year old boy.
There are other voices I miss. My dad always spoke in confident tones that gave encouragement, which initiated motivation.
I had two childless aunts who took upon themselves the profound interest in all the nieces and  nephews. Each had a distinct charm and both required 'particulars' when responding to their questions. Both aunts had full volume tones.They too are silenced.
I suppose everyone, this time of year, has such reflections...I was blessed.

Happy Thanksgiving

Last Sunday, the preacher asked the question: "If you could only pray a prayer of Thanksgiving for ONE thing, what would THAT be?" Of course, it is an unfair question! In fact, many times my prayers become somewhat lengthy because I tend to 'itemize' my many blessings.
As I sat there in the pew (I got to church late and all the good chairs in the back were taken), I decided to play the preacher's game; it was a quick and easy answer that came to mind...if on this Thanksgiving day, I could thank my God but for one thing, I would thank Him for sending His Son to pave the way to eternal life.
I cannot close this rant with listing only one Thanksgiving prayer so let me finish saying, I never let a prayer moment pass that I don't thank The Lord for the health and safety granted my children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Stop and think; we all want so very much for our off-springs and yet WE cannot provide the most coveted gifts for our love ones.

May your day be filled with thankful thoughts.

She Got Me Started

My wife walked into the family room and noted the televised college football ball I was watching. One of the teams was Florida State. She commented about the Indian 'logo' helmet worn by the Florida State Seminoles and asked, "Why do they get to use an 'Indian' for a mascot and Illinois cannot use Chief Illiniwek?" She likely wished she had not asked because I went on one of my lengthy rants about the National Collegiate Athletic Association (NCAA).
In descending rank, I deplore the following organizations: Ku Klux Klan, Black Panthers and the NCAA. The first two are intolerant 'hate-groups' and the latter is a pompous, pretentious, greedy group.

I explained to my wife the old saying, 'Money talks; bullshit walks!' Whereas there is no existing Illini Tribe to throw money at to appease and thus use the name 'Chief Illiniwek mascot,' Florida State pays-off the Seminole folks. Of course the pompous NCAA ignores the money game and puts aside their holy war against its college members using degrading mascots and mascot names, which may offend ethnic groups.
My complete 'rant' on the NCAA is 573 pages long; I shall stop here.

Bogus

In 2011, the city of a Chicago had 433 murders. 70 percent were committed by 'Blacks' and 75 percent were 'Black' victims. This statistic suggests a hellava lot of 'Black-on-'Black' murder. Just a few weeks ago, a young, 4-year old black girl was sitting on her grandfather's lap when a stray bullet came through the wall striking the child and killing her.
Questions Where is the community and nationwide outrage? Where  is Jessie Jackson and Al Sharpton? Where are the demonstrators? Where is the national media, especially  the 'rock-throwing' reporters from CNN?
Obviously, we can note a lot of disingenuous voices in our society today along with profound inconsistencies!

I Don't Recognize Today

Two doors South from our house lives twin brothers who are seniors at Decatur MacArthur high school. They live with their widowed mother. Both boys are better than 6'3"; one weighs in at 245, the other at 210. Upon graduation they intend to join the military. They are polite young men and over the past few years, we have funneled many dollars their respective directions with a variety of lawn care jobs. They are now comfortable enough to ring the door bell and inquire; "Can I make a few dollars today doing something." Often we have a legitimate need and if we don't, my wife manufactures a need.
This past Saturday, one twin knocked on the door at mid-morning and soon Gerry had him 'on-the-clock.' I noticed on three rather quick back-to-back moments, the lad was on his cell phone texting I suggested to my wife that she needed to ask the boy if he wanted to work or talk on the phone?
My wife jumped my crap and said,  "Stop acting like a crabby old man!" Next summer, I hope the boy's Army drill sergeant resembles my wife; warm, 'fuzzy-' caring and cuddling however, I am betting the sergeant will be a crabby-asshole...it's a different world than I remember.

Midnight Christmas Thoughts

My wife completed our Christmas tree decorations yesterday. It's a beautiful tree with a
lovely and serene Nativity Scene beneath. My wife is much like my late Father when it comes to Christmas decorations...passionately intense!
Just before midnight last night, I came downstairs to the living room and turned on the Christmas tree lights. In the stillness of those hours, I allowed my thoughts to wonder with recollections of Christmas past. I recalled the thrill of those cowboy toys, bikes and sports equipment. I remember mom and dad sharing a kiss under a mistletoe.
Soon my memory checked off those wonderful 'all-families' get-togethers at Grandpa E.V. and Mammy's home on Christmas Eve. The laughter and joyous interactive love was incredible; so was the homemade custard!
With the passing of grandparents, the Christmas gathering baton was handed to my parents...come hell or high snow drifts and great distances, the three sons were expected to deliver their families to my folks home Christmas Eve AND...WE DID. The decorations at my parents' home was a page out of Macy's and the spread of food would rival any Country Club. Our kids hold those fond memories, I am sure.
These days, my wife and I hold the baton and host the hoopla as memories are made for another generation of children.
Finally, I stopped my reminiscing and pushed the CD play button to hear the voice of Ray Charles sing, The Spirit of Christmas. Soon, the warm tears in my eyes swelled beyond the rim of the lids and flowed slowly down these wrinkled cheeks. Ray Charles asks, "Why can't it remain all through the year, each day the same...that  "Spirit of Christmas." My selfish heart cries, 'Why can't it remain all through life...and I know the answer; because life longs for itself. The Christ Child calls each to embrace His Spirit and then let go.

On-Road-Again!

Another milestone passed! I remember that magical age '16' when I took that written & behind the wheel driving test to get my first-ever driver's license; glorious day! Then there was that age '18' and I headed to the post office to register for the military draft. (That was back-the-day when the wealthy & the poor fought for America's freedoms). Three (3) years later at '21', I could belly up to the bar and have a brew...never was one to sit at the bar too often.
We'll at age 75, it appears that I am starting over again. Yesterday morning, I went to the driver's license facility to take a written test, eye test and behind-the-wheel test. This time around, the thought occurred that if I fail any one of the three test, I will be stuck at home watching Big Bang Theory re-runs 24/7! I stopped watching CNN sometime ago; one night I kept seeing Wolf Blitzer's face every time I closed my eyes.
Well, I handled all test. I did miss one of the 29 written test items; it had some scenario about my auto arriving at an intersection at the exact moment a boy on a bike at my right arrives at the intersection.
I am good for another four years. I will then be seventy-nine.
Post Thought: I think at seventy-five, I should be required to go directly into the military. Actually, I think the UN should have all nations send seventy-plus-year old fellas to war. There would be fewer casualties due to poor eye and bad shooting. If you did shoot some old fart you would be eliminating health care cost.