Months later, what the Cubs’ World Series Championship means to me, Dad… (c) John Winston Powell, M.A. 9/13/17

1972368_10201782155716112_3555989945296321889_n1 Dear Dad,At Dad's Grave 2.jpg

I’m not sure why, but I have not been able to put into words what it meant for us to see the Chicago Cubs win a World Series after a 108 year drought. Now that the Cubs are struggling to win their division again, I’ve given up having some sort of  insight epiphany I could share with people and have decided to simply say that it was wonderful thing. A wonderful thing to behold, to be in awe of. A wonderful thing to inspire us to believe that things can turn out right when we doubt ourselves and our abilities, our fellow human beings, and the arc of the universe.

Perhaps the Cubs’ championship was needed in context as a week later we elected someone President who represents so much that is bad in the collective American psyche. I know you would have written in John Kasich, LOL. It’s hard for me to wrap my head around the Cubs’ incredible season, and I guess that’s why I haven’t been able to write. It’s hard for me to wrap my head around the fact that Donald Trump is President. You know I was happy when the Cubs were able to sneak in their White House celebration with President Obama during his last week in office.

I am posting this entry as we finally planted this World Series championship flag on your grave in Galesburg. Thank you for giving me our love of the Cubs. Thank you for all the laughter, frustration, hope, and despair that was/is part of our Cub experience. It is one of many things you and I bonded over, but to root for the Cubs together was a special intimacy that fathers/mothers/sons/daughters have enjoyed since baseball’s inception in this country. We have enjoyed it to the brink. Our cup finally did overflow last November.

When the Indians tied Game 7, the tears came rolling down my cheeks as I stood in that South City St. Louis bar watching it. I know you would have had red eyes at that point as well. And then when they won…you were in my soul in a special way as Lisa and I jumped around the room with a bunch of other Cub exiles (as I always knew it would be, regardless of whether you were embodying your soul at that point or not). We helped it happen. Through sending our love and mental energy over the years to the Cubs, we were constitutive of that wonderful moment.

People do this wonderful thing with their teams. I wish we could do this thing in all the other areas of our lives: politics, social justice issues, in our workplaces, in our families. To not give up. To always have hope despite our moments of despair. To continue to believe.  To follow a baseball team is a first world luxury for us; but still, it has helped us, helped our spirits, helped us to be better people.

Thanks, Dad, for introducing me to the love of the Cubs. I’m sorry this letter is so late but you know it’s been in my head and heart.  I will always think of you as I watch the Cubs. I will always love you for being the compassionate yet hopefulness challenged human soul that you were. And now your soul knows everything, so be with us as we try to spread love and good energy in other ways in our world.  #CubsDadsinHeaven #FlytheW #GoCubsGo

Love,

Johnny

P.S. Jane, Lisa, and your White Sox loving yet Cubs supporting awesome nephew, Adam, send their love, too! Give a kiss to Mom for us.

 

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About johnpowell1020

Middle-aged theology teacher who believes in the best of life's paradoxes. Loves God, Lisa, his family, The Beatles, Wilco, great music, the Chicago Cubs, the University of Florida , Barry University, teaching, photography, the piano, documentaries, Autumn, Clover & India, peacocks, and so much more....
This entry was posted in Chicago Cubs, Dads, Uncategorized, World Series. Bookmark the permalink.

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