"A Love Letter from Chicago"

I wasn't sure what I was going to write about today. It's a bittersweet day, as today is Len's birthday, the 5th birthday that he has celebrated in heaven. He was the love of my life, and I miss him every single day. Len was a true catch. He was witty, playful, devilishly handsome, and kind, not kind like, "I am going to be nice because I want something", but inherently kind. His heart was pure. Len loved me in a way that I have never felt loved before. I would like to think that I was his greatest love as well, but I may have come in second to his first love: baseball. Len was a diehard Chicago Cubs fan.

I can recall the exact moment that I knew that I was falling for Len. We were sitting on his couch watching baseball and holding hands. (Did I mention that I despise watching baseball on TV, like it seriously might be the most boring thing ever.) I am also not much of a "hand holder" either. However, in that moment, I was completely content. There was no other place that I would rather be. That is how I knew that I loved him. He felt like home. So, the Cubs have come to grow on me as well.

I remember that cold night in November almost 5 years ago when the Cubs won the World Series. It had been just over a year since Len had passed, and I knew that he was watching and smiling from up above. I can just picture him cheering them on, for what seemed to be a near miracle effort.

The Cubs won the World Series that night, something that most people thought was impossible. It took them 108 years, and they won it in the 10th inning with 8 runs (108 years, 10 innings, 8 runs). If that is not a symbolic blessing from the heavens above, then I don't know what is. Truth be told, I have never really been a Cubs fan. Despite growing up with two major league baseball teams in Chicago, I chose to cheer on the Red Sox ( a team almost 1000 miles away from Chicago). Maybe I didn't want to choose sides or be part of the city divide? Maybe I did not want to pick my "favorite child"? Who knows? I've always been complicated and a bit rebellious.

Despite my love for the Red Sox, I could not help but cheer on the Cubs during that Series. How could I not? The Cubs have always been the lovable losers, the underdog. Everyone wants to see the underdog win. Chicago had been bleeding for a long time, and we needed a true "Rudy" moment. The Cubs overcame adversity that night. They proved that hard work, determination, faith, hope, and a "few" people cheering you on from the stands, can get you the "W". They dug deep, despite the fear and pressure, and they fought their way back from a mid-series disaster to persevere and win. They showed that true "Chicago" spirit. When we fall here in Chicago, we get back up. We are fighters. We push our way forward.

The game that night brought together people from all over the world. People whose loyalty was with other teams, proudly cheered the Cubs on. For one night, we were all one. It did not matter what jersey we wore; we came together to cheer on the underdog in one of the most exciting games in the history of baseball. (The Indians gave us a strong fight, and played a beautiful and admirable game. Well done too boys, but we had been waiting for that "W" for a very long time.) I hope that game was a lesson to us all that no matter what "jersey" we wear (in baseball, in religion, in race, in politics, in love), we are still one big team, and we need to cheer on our fellow "teammates" in life. We don't have to agree on what the best "jersey" is. We just have to respect our right to choose which one to wear, and to cheer each other on when we need that little "extra push" in life.

I was so excited when the Cubs won that night. It was a "proud mama" moment. I watched the faces of those young men who wore their Cubs jerseys proudly. I saw their relief, their excitement, and their pride. I imagined each of them as young boys, picking up a baseball for the first time, feeling the weight of the world in their hands. I imagined them counting the stitches that lightly grazed their palms. I imagined the pride that they felt as they walked up to the plate, bat in hand, and glanced up to see the faces of their proud parents as they were about to swing for the fences. These young men who chased their dreams, the ones who helped the Cubs win their first World Series in 108 years, were so much more than baseball players who won a big game. They were the voices of the future. They taught us all to chase our dreams, to step up to the plate, and to swing for the fences. They taught us to do that no matter who thinks you can't. They gave us hope. Well done boys! That rain delay that night was tears from heaven as those who left the earth before us realized that we were about to bring home the "W" for Chicago.

I would like to believe that Len was one of those shedding happy tears that night for his beloved Cubs. He waited a very long time to witness that win. I am sure his smile was going strong that night. (That shit grin of his melted my heart every single time.) I am guessing that the night the Cubs won the World Series was a highlight from his reel in heaven. He is anxiously anticipating the next win too I am sure. Baseball was/is one of Len's greatest loves, and I cannot think of any better way to honor him on his birthday today. Happy Birthday Babe!

All my love from Chicago,

Matchmaker Lisa Maria