Midnight Mass

It's raining right now over Chicago. Only remnants of snow are left in patches along grassy areas. We just drove home from our Christmas Eve celebration at Ralph & Mary's in Tinley Park. It's a surreal drive to their house because we usually head out there about the time all of the stores are closing. You see all of the last minutes shoppers scurrying out of the shops. Everything closes ... even White Castle ... but the church lots were full.

I received a call from a former co-worker this afternoon. Victor is a dear, older man who worked at the firm years ago. I've kept in touch with him through our annual Christmas card and letter. He called to say that he received this year's card and was so glad that I've kept in touch with him. He's 81-years-old and just had some type of surgery on his legs. This man is one of those people who is just genuinely kind and brillant the same. David once told me that for a living Victor would translate patents into different languages (he spoke five plus languages, I believe). It was a short call. Victor said that our family is a very rare one to find these days. We wished each other a Merry Christmas and a happy new year. It was nice to hear his voice again.

On Thursday afternoon, I stumbled into Three First National Plaza. An instrumental ansemble was playing Christmas songs in the lobby. It was a good reprieve from the hustle and bustle all around. I've been running around hurriedly, succumbing to the pressure to "find the right gift" for everyone on my list; but, in that moment, just hearing the carols caused me to stop and listen ... to reflect. For what occurred in a stinky, cold stable more than 2,000 years ago changed my life. God, in flesh, allowing himself to be born as the baby Jesus in order to redeem all of humanity. What love He has for me ... what sacrifice was given ... His grace bestowed on me.

Away in a manger, no crib for a bed. The little, lord Jesus laid down His sweet head. The stars in the sky looked down where he lay; the little, lord Jesus asleep on the hay ... Be near me lord Jesus, I ask thee to stay; close by me forever and love me, I pray. Bless all the dear children in thy tender care and take us to heaven to live with thee there.

The Letter

2005. I find myself in the same place as I was this time last year ... eight days into December with so much left to do, so much to avoid doing. The unseasonably cold weather that now hovers over the city caps off an unusual summer of drought and heat in the Midwest. To say “unusual” is an understatement, as the country — the world — endured a series of weather and geologic catastrophes on a scale never before seen. We have witnessed destruction that yielded much sadness and tears; called some to surrender, others to lend a hand; and taught us that what we think are “problems” in our own lives, pale in comparison to what people around the world and in our own country deal with. I read a story in the paper recently about women and children in Pakistan who were sleeping at night in large bird cages in an abandoned zoo. It was the only place they had to stay which was safe after an earthquake decimated many of the villages. Imagine.

“I waited patiently for the Lord. He inclined and heard my cry.
He brought me up out of the pit. Out of the miry clay.”

Caitlyn is in her final year of grammar school (8th grade). If all goes as expected, she will start high school next fall at Chicago Hope Academy, which is located in the city’s medical district on the near west side (check out the school at: chicagohopeacademy.org). Alexandra is now a 4th grader and is looking forward to next year because she’ll finally be able to participate in sports. She is still interested in becoming a veterinarian. ✳ In June, we took the girls down to Florida for their first Disney visit. We were on the go the entire time, but we thoroughly enjoyed the time together (Space Mountain rocks!) ✳ After a year spent putting his vast carpentry skills to use, Darrin completed the basement remodeling project in November. It has given us some extra space which has become the family room/home office area. Since we’ve moved things around, the girls now have their own bedrooms and they’ve been busy decorating them. ✳ I spent some time this Summer training for my first 10K run, the Nike One Hit Wonder. It was staged on a hot, September night down along Lake Michigan and featured bands throughout the course. It was one of the most physically challenging thing I’ve very done, but I’m glad that I completed the race and I’ve got a medal to prove it!

“I will sing, sing a new song ... How long to sing this song?
How long, how long, how long ... how long to sing this song?”

And I remember ... a long, dry summer; the joy of freshly brewed coffee in the morning; familiar walks; hot chai tea with skim milk; early morning prayers with a friend; farewells to our hermit crab; lunchtime runs through Grant Park; the births of babies and the passing of old friends; the view from the Orange Line as it crests above 18th and State Street; singing Happy Birthday to Bono outside the Park Hyatt; Florida in June; early Sunday morning runs up to and through Marquette Park; reconnecting with old friends; new attempts to grow hydrangea; singing along in the name of love; chance photographs; hearing a voice that’s still whispering; pictures of the destruction caused by the tsunami and Hurricane Katrina; Caitlyn’s final softball and volleyball games of grammar school; Darrin & Alex surprising us by playing “Amazing Grace” on guitar; One; the privilege to watch our friends’ children grow up with ours; family birthday celebrations; Sunday mornings spent with the 4 & 5-year-olds in church; sprinting down Columbus toward the finish line; working in my garden; moving forward; the autumn colors at the Morton Arboretum; egg white omelets with mushroom and spinach; the ability to fill my lungs with air to breathe and muscles that continue to propel this 30-something body; and just how good God is.
“You set my feet upon a rock and made my footsteps firm. Many will see, many will see and hear.”

2006. May the new year bring you much love and peace. I pray that your celebration of the Savior’s birth will remind you of all that He has done for you in giving His life as a ransom for all –“For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord.” (Luke 2:11); “for, Whoever will call on the name of the Lord will be saved.” (Romans 10:13)

“I will sing, sing a new song ... how long to sing this song?”
Lyrics from the song “40" by U2

Givin' Thanks

I'm thankful for (in no particular order)... Tootsie Rolls; healthy children; Darrin's warm hands that hold onto mine; cars that function; my mom and dad; the ability to fill my lungs with air; the colors of God's creation; my in-laws; a job; eyes to see and ears to hear; worship at Armitage; chocolate; lunchtime spent at the gym; legs and muscles that keep me running; Ben "Batman"; the testimony of Robert Malnati; summer vacations; our tomato garden; perennials; U2's Vertigo tour; a best friend to pray with each work day morning; the joy of new born babies; our finished basement; God's sustaining grace and mercy; spaghetti; Kennedy and Lottie; my parents' example of hard work; and my salvation.

Lord you are good and your mercy endures forever.

The best tall, skim chai tea ever!

The city has been invaded by various non-urban types. I ran over to Fields at lunch to splurge a little on myself with my multiple leftover gift cards that I've accumulated between last Christmas and my birthday. Prescriptives and Clinique were my benefactors today. I even picked up ornaments for the yearly hope Christmas tree gifts for my nieces and nephews. They are silver, mini picture frames with 2005 etched on the bottom with a dove charm. I have the traditional green Marshall Fields gift boxes to put them in ~ very appropriate since Fields' day are numbered thanks to the clueless Macy's executives.

Take the Long Way Home

The drastic change in weather brought about our first snow yesterday and a 16 degree commute to work this morning. The skin on my fingers is already dry and cracking. My yellow rose bush which yielded three new blooms this past weekend is now supporting limp and shriveled petals today. Ah, autumn in Chicago!

We'd make our annual trek down to Turkey Run State Park in Indiana about this time each year. Actually, we would head down the day after Thanksgiving and spend the rest of the weekend hiking the trails on the other side of Sugar Creek. A buffet breakfast in the park and dinner at the Pizza Hut. I heard Supertramp this morning on the radio and it brought these memories to mind. Steven falling off of the cliff. The wrestling matches between Jim, Phil and Kevin in the cabin. Non's first hiking experience. Covered bridge festivals and icy creeks. Just being together and laughing out loud.

"When you look through the years and see what you could have been oh, what might have been, if you'd had more time."

Two after 10

My youngest child turned 10-years-old on Monday ... at 8:32 p.m. to be exact. She came into this world on a cold, Tuesday evening at St. Joseph's Hospital overlooking the lake. The contractions began soon after we arrived home from a doctor's appointment and ate a meal featuring gyros. I managed to get my contacts out and answer the standard questions by the nurse as my contractions rapidly fired out. It was my parents' anniversary and they were present to receive this gift. She was born within an hour from the time we arrived at the hospital. The residents on call told me not to push as they scrambled to get things ready. My doctor was on his way from Evanston, but he would not make it in time. Darrin was right by my side offering support and a strong hand to hold on to. I prayed aloud -- a specific prayer for only 2 or 3 more contractions -- because I was doing this as naturally and drug-free as this free spirit could handle. He heard my prayer and within a few minutes, our dark-haired, feisty daughter tumbled out and made her big appearance. There are some things you just do not forget ... nor should you.

Cock-a-doodle-do!

I generally encounter the usual array of city animal critters (squirrels, birds) each morning during my walk to the 'el station at 35th Street. Today's walk brought me to one my most unusal encounters. As I headed down Leavitt on this glorious Friday, out of the corner of my eye I noticed the movement of a brownish-redish figure in a gangway a few feet ahead. I figured it was just a cat, but, as I walked by, I turned my head to see what it was and there stood a BIG rooster. I think he was startled by me as well because he turned around and headed toward the back yard of the home he was trespassing on.

Don't Stop Believin'

My Great Aunt Gladys was a big baseball fan. Her old black and white photo albums contained pictures of her outside the Baltimore stadium in the '50s or so. I remember her being particularly fond of the Kansas City Royals during the late-70s and early 80's during the George Brett era. I believe her allegiance to the Royals stemmed from the fact that our family roots stretched down into Missouri. She would make occasional visits down there to visit her nieces and nephews. So, I guess that you can say that the love I have for the game of baseball was nurtured by Aunt Gladys since I spent a lot of time with her growing up.

Putting that aside, my first real baseball memories come from attending White Sox games at the old Comiskey Park as a kid. I can clearly remember attending a game right before the start of school when they gave away school supplies to all of the kids in attendance. It was a night game and I sat in those old wooden seats with my mom, Bill, Camille, Phil, and others. I was enthralled with the box of round reinforcing stickers used for fixing torn loose-leaf paper holes that was in my giveaway bag. In true Veeck fashion, there was an after-game firework show, too. The old, exploding scoreboard brought lots of excitement to the old ball park.

As I got older, I fell under the spell of the Cubs and spent many summer afternoons in the bleachers at Wrigley watching the '84 Cubs during that historic year. My allegiance is to the City of Chicago. I do not bleed Cubby blue any more than my southside pride causes me to jump up and down and throw my hands up in the air as I witness history in the presence of my daughters on a chilly October night.

The White Sox are the 2005 World Series Champions! Did I just type that? Yes, the Chicago White Sox swept the Houston Astros with a team that truly represented the melting pot of America. A team that worked hard together without the ego that inflates many of today's professional athletes. I saw it with my own eyes and will savor it my mind for the years to come. Perhaps, my girls will tell the story to their own children one day, too.

Do you remember where you were?

Marquette Park and Chocolate Chip Cookies

I ditched most of my workouts last week due to a nagging end-of-the-summer cold. The paranoid part of myself thinks that the mosquito which bit me the week before gave me the West Nile Virus. The logical part of myself believes that my post-race recovery somewhat weakened my immune system after the Nike 10K Run Hit Wonder on 9/23/05.

It has been hard to sleep. I'm tired of coughing. The show must go on; so, in order to not loose what I've worked so hard to attain, I headed out this morning at 6:30 a.m. for what I now call my Sunday long run up to and through Marquette Park. It was 55 degrees outside and the sun was just coming up. Autumn mornings. A "Dry Fit" shirt that is amazing. A portable CD player that does not skip (yet). The turn onto 67th Street that leads to the park. Air filling my worn lungs. Out of nowhere, the smell of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies fills the air. Keep running because that is what you're here for. Scattered morning greetings to the familiar faces that I have encountered since I began this route back in early August. Smiling faces of different colors. The older Hispanic man. The African-American woman who walks with a big stick and shly says hello. The seasoned runner who once said, "good pace." The glasses-wearing gentleman who I pass right around 7:00 a.m. who is training for the Chicago Marathon. How can I tell? You just can ... from his form, the t-shirts he wears, his seriousness ... but he always raises his hand to say his hello. We are this odd community of runners who meet once a week in the fabled park that Dr. Martin Luther King once marched through ... if he were to see this diversity, he'd realize that his dream is coming true.

Need to Track Down Some Tupelo Honey

I've been coating my sore throat with green tea & honey. My sleep has been real light these past few nights, which leads my mind to wander over the terrain of unfinished dreams and a long countdown to the ringing of my wake up alarm.

Is a low-cal honey possible?

Oh, Those Summer Nights

Summer officially ends sometime Thursday. It was so humid last night that we had to turn the air conditioners on. It has been one long, hot, dry season, but I can't complaint. In three months, we will be shivering and shoveling ... maybe not in that order.

It's "Fashion Week" in Chicago. I got the chance to meet Clinton Kelly from TLC's "What Not to Wear" this afternoon at Marshall Fields. I picked up a copy of the style book that he put together with co-host Stacy Loundon, which he graciously autographed for Caitlyn & Alex. He was sharply dressed and incredibly nice.

Well, our countdown to the U2 concert has finally reached the 24-hour point. After my federal court training class in the morning, Janice will pick me up and we'll begin our quest to catch up with the boys from Ireland. I'm hoping to get my Joshua Tree LP autographed by Bono ... would so love to actually stumble upon the opportunity to meet Larry at the hotel or before their soundcheck. I've got the lingo down in my mind ... "Mr. Hewson," (just to grab his attention) "next time you're in Chicago, you've got to come check out Sunday Nite Live at Armitage." (I'm going to give him one of our newsletters, just like I did with Donny Osmond -- yes, I'm a dork). Janice can talk about her mission trip to Kenya ... the "Miracle Drug" angle ... then the whole family will cap the night off with the band and thousands of others at the United Center.

"I was born a child of grace * nothining else about the place * everything was ugly but your beautiful face and it left me no illusion. I saw you in the curve of the moon * in the shadow cast across my room * you heard me in my tune when I just heard confusion. All because of you. All because of you. All because of you I am."

"A woman with your same coloring asked me earlier today what colors would look good on her, so I told her "lavender." -- Clinton Kelly commenting to Mer who was wearing a lavender top

Here it goes ...

This is my first foray into the world of blogs. I've always spoken clearer through my words because it's just easier for me to get my feelings out in colored inks across a page. I'm a little hoarse because the priorities of my life have somewhat overwhelmed my feeble attempts to put my thoughts down in words with any regularity. (Put it this way, my annual Christmas letter is the most I've written in quite a while).

So, I guess that you can call this a new journey, as I now have this vehicle to help me in trying to find the voice that has been in hiding. It's not lost ... I know that I will find it. It just needs to be exercised to gain back its strength.

Mer

Countdown: 2 more days to Vertigo!