Reflecting on the past with a childhood friend may be the secret to understanding life.
Letters to Louie
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Letters to Louie:
Everyone needs a Louie
When my dad was in his early 80’s, he began to reflect on his life in his hometown, where he had lived most of his life. He had many stories of the people and places he knew as a boy, and then later through his life as a well- respected doctor.
He had a strong call to write but needed an audience…
and an inspiration to write every day.
Around the same time, my dad reconnected with a childhood friend named Louie. Like my dad and mom, and many of their friends, Louie and his wife were both experiencing age related health challenges. My dad sensed Louie could use a friend and connection.
He began writing emails to Louie.
With Louie as his audience, my dad wrote freely. He knew Louie would understand the people, places and events my dad mentioned. A portal opened as Letters to Louie took flight. The two friends emailed back and forth about past and current events, family, and the struggles of aging.
Soon, past and present worlds were converging.
The letters brought insight and inspiration to both my dad and Louie.
My dad would later say the letters gave Louie hope and light during challenging times. But of course, the letters didn’t just help Louie. They also helped my dad. The letters helped him understand where he came from and who he had become. The letters helped my dad reflect on a life well-lived.
My dad looked forward to his Letters to Louie, and the truth is…
We all need something to look forward to.
We all need purpose in our lives.
We all need a Louie.
Letters to Louie
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The Race May Be Short, But Life is Long
The memory of my friend and his flashing spikes so far ahead of me on the track of the Little Ten conference reminded me during the years that track ribbons and medals, even Olympic Medals are cold to the touch when compared with the memories of friendship.
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World War 2 - How We Saw It
Many mornings I meet with five or six men, for coffee and conversation which and many times includes memories of the great war. I am sharing some of their stories with my Grandson as he learns about WWII.
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World War 2 - How We Saw It
Pearl Harbor is a day that I will never forget. It was a day that changed everything and my friends and I knew that within three years we would all be drafted and become soldiers.
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Swiss Cheese
Swiss cheese with its individual holes, never two pieces alike are likened to people; never two alike, never two equal, never one without some blemish, and most giving off gases, not always innocuous carbon dioxide.
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Everything Needs Oxygen
I thought of all those features while clearing the intake furnace tubes, coughed a few times-- this should increase coronary flow during exertion, and because you are getting this message, I guess it worked. Imagine a better companion for an active couple.
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Aging is Not a Quiet Process
This aging is not a quiet process; it is fraught with one significant problem, forgetfulness. To age is to forget; small things, large events, names and faces, events and promised events. To forget to “write it down” and if it is written, just where in the hell was it written, and where is the “book?” There are many steps in memory, and all are forgotten one at a time.
The Boys of Summer - Summers Past
At this time of the year, October, when not watching the brutal sport of mayhem, i.e. football, many think of the World Series. I find myself thinking, on occasion of the North Side vs South Side baseball games of the 1937 and 1938 summers, when two opposing teams, one of North Siders and one of South Siders would wage baseball games at the West Park.
A coach from the high school would attend the park during the summer and would encourage and arrange ball games and other activities for kids from the city. When compared to the present recreational programs, those programs of the 30’s were very minimal and were more or less spontaneous.
Nevertheless, the games, after teams were recruited by my cousin from the South Side and myself from the North Side, were vigorous and possessive.