There is something about this Cubs win that is about so much more than sports.
When I met my father-in-law some 14 years ago, there were three things I quickly learned about him. I learned that he has the best, hearty, deep-from-the-belly laugh. I learned that his greatest pride is his kids. I learned that he was a die-hard Cubs baseball fan.
The minute I stepped into his house, I felt I was home. He squeezed me by the shoulders, and he looked me in the eyes, and he yelled over to my then boyfriend, now husband, “Well, aren’t you lucky?” And the rest is history. I remember spending summer weekends at the lake with his teasing and affable banter. I remember big family holiday gatherings where he would always sneak time to sit right next to me, with his plate piled high with turkey, gravy, and Grandma’s famous potato salad, and he would say, “you having fun yet?” with that wink in his eye.
He didn’t have an easy life. There were obstacles that got in the way of life and family. He was a workaholic to a fault. But as life moved along, he woke up. He redefined his priorities, and he set out to be who deep down, he had always been, buried under those things that had led him astray. By the time I met him, all I knew was a man that loved his children and his family and a man that was wholeheartedly loved by my husband.
My husband gave the eulogy at his dad’s funeral. During the eulogy, he talked about his respect for his father. He was proud of what his father had overcome and who he had become. He was proud of how his father made amends and embraced loving his family as his greatest priority. His death left a hole in my husband’s heart that would take time to heal, but that would never completely mend. I am so thankful I met this great man in my husband’s life. I am so thankful we will always have memories of him infused in this family map we are weaving.
There have been so many times that we have felt his great void. My husband’s graduations from college and law school, our wedding day, the birth of his grandchildren, holidays, birthdays, family gatherings. In all the chaos of these wonderful celebrations, there has always been a moment’s pause, to recognize how much sweeter it would be to have him by our sides, laughing his deep-belly-laugh, and teasing his son about changing dirty diapers. I know if he saw who his children had become today, he would be bursting at the seams with pride. We miss him.
One of my favorite stories is that of my father-in-law piling his dad and three young kids, including my husband, into the car one early Saturday morning, driving the three hours to Chicago to bring his family to their first Cubs babeball game at Wrigleyfield. Then driving right back home after the game. When time is tight and money is tighter, you do what you can to create memories for your family and share the things you love. That is exactly what my father-in-law did. He did it right. To this day, my husband cherishes that trip they took to the great Wrigleyfield and it remains one of the most magical places for us to visit. This summer when we took our own kids to Wrigleyfield for the first time, it was as if we were sharing a part of Grandpa Mark’s legacy with them. It was as if he was there with us, sharing those Chicago dogs in a poppy seed bun, piled high with onions, mustard, green relish, tomatoes and a pickle spear.
My father-in-law was passionate about Cubs baseball, to say the least. To him, like so many, Cubs baseball is not just a sport. It is an undeniable, slightly crazed passion we high-five and howl over. It is putting all your life’s heaviness aside to cheer for America’s favorite pastime. It is a shared hope that brings us closer together. It is a place to belong. It is the heartbeat that unites us.
Cubs baseball is infused into the identity of my father-in-law and the family that gathered around him. His love for the Cubs has sparked and cultivated our love for the team, which we are now passing along to our kids. During this roller coaster of a history-making series, my father-in-law undoubtedly took a seat on the couch along side each of his children. He has brought us together, to celebrate the Cubs, because in celebrating the Cubs, we are celebrating his passion, his heart, and remembering his constant presence. Every text that was fired between his kids as the Cubs scored a homerun, made a sick defensive play, won a game, was sent with the unspoken message, “wouldn’t Dad love this?”
We wish he could be here to experience this epic Win. Oh, you would love to hear his deep-belly-laugh in all its glory. You would feel his hands slap you on the back and love to watch him sweep his grandchildren off the ground with his big bear hugs.
This is more than a won baseball series. This is about the history and families of fans that have united behind their love for their team. Fans that remember their fathers and mothers, uncles and aunts, grandfathers and grandmothers that passed on this tradition to root, root, root for the Cubbies–win or lose. But this time, they won it all. And for all of us that are carrying on, generation after generation, this die-hard love for the Cubs, we are celebrating big, for us and those that we wished were right here along side of us.
Fly the W