I attended Saint Louis University School of Law from 1979 to 1982. There was a McDonald’s restaurant that was located about six blocks from the school. The area where the McDonald’s was located was run-down, and it was not uncommon to run into a homeless person when I stopped at McDonald’s for a bite to eat.
On Mother’s Day, my oldest daughter Anna invited our entire family over to her house for dinner. After dinner, we celebrated the birthday of her 6-year-old son, David. Whenever I’m invited to one of my grandchildren’s birthday parties, I go out of my way to find an inexpensive but unique gift that they will remember and enjoy using. I always tease them ahead of time about the gift I have for them.
Two weeks ago, I wrote about some of the abusive teachers that I had at the Catholic grade school that I attended during the 1960s. Last week, I wrote about how the behavior of those teachers wasn’t much different than the behavior of other teachers in the 1960s. I wrote that at that time, there were some parents and teachers who believed that abusing and humiliating boys was a necessary part of transforming them into real men.
With the recent death of my father-in-law, I’ve had to fall back on some of the coping skills I learned and developed when I was younger. I’ve written before about the death of my 13-month-old sister, Kathryn Mary. When she died, I was 15 years old. I’ve also written about the sudden death of my cousin, Tommy LaHood, who died when I was 11. Tommy’s brother, Harry LaHood, passed away when he was 41. Harry and I were the same age and were best friends while we were growing up.