It’s no secret that my Dad was a huge fan of the St. Louis Cardinals and his love of a team with a scrappy, mean bird as a mascot is rather a funny thing. My Dad could be scrappy but he was never mean. His affection for the team dated back to his childhood and it never wavered. Even when his team was struggling, Dad maintained hope that the game - and the season - could be turned around. Some of my greatest joy in life is found in memories of the conversations he and JT had as the Cardinals - by then JT’s team - won an improbable pennant and then World Series in 2011. The sight of a cardinal has always reminded me of my dad and all his best qualities: his liberal politics, his sense of humor (and exquisite timing), his skill with profanity, his joy in his grandsons. With his passing in 2023, the sight of a cardinal feels like my Dad is at hand, counseling patience as I wait for my new hip, condemning ignorance and stupidity, or shouting “Jocko” when there is flubbed play at sport. In 2024, the first of each month will be devoted to cardinals in all their forms in my world. First up is this Christmas gift from my sister.
It will be hung over the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, keeping watch over my home and reminding me of my dad.
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