Well today, if my dad were still alive, we would be at some restaurant celebrating his 88th birthday.  He was born on June 3, 1936.  The last restaurant I was with him however was the Panera at Hamilton Town Center just after his chemotherapy appointment we picked him up from.  He died from the cancer about a week later.

Many people might be surprised to learn that I do not have much of a memory of my dad growing up.  My parents divorced when I was probably about 9, and in that day and age you got to see your dad only occasionally.  So most of my memories are from college on, as I came down to Butler in 1981 supposedly for school, but mainly to get to know him.

I will confess that it would have been tons easier for the both of us if we had not been so much alike.  People tend to think both he and I were either wonderful or hot-headed.  He was from Brooklyn, NY and when he would get mad you knew right where he was from.  I on the other hand was from Mishawaka, IN and have only ever visited Brooklyn a few times.  To this day I will never understand why when I get going on a rant I have a clearly distinguishable Brooklyn accent.  Go figure.

But my decision to come to Indianapolis to finish college (not all of my education, just college) was a good decision in a life up to that point that had a not so good record in the decisions department.  It was the beginning of action in changing my life, and although many times my dad and I struggled to understand each other and get along, it provided me with a solid 38 years to learn how to be a son.  I want to confess that I am a far better man because of it.

Many of the stories and adventures I could never tell here, but when he left this life in April of 2019, I lost a big piece of me.  Maybe I can write about his ridiculous quest he sent Mike, Anna, and I on to spread small urns of his ashes (in the Gulf of Mexico at Hudson Beach in New Port Richey FL where his mom was interred, in Liverpool where his closest friends are, and on Long Island on his his father’s grave).  We JUST finished this about a couple of months ago).  Most of his ashes are in the columbarium at Trinity Episcopal Church in Indianapolis.

I do not know why, but I had not been there since his funeral.  It was something however I did do a couple of weeks ago before a doctor’s appointment for my right elbow which I managed to shatter during Holy Week.  That’s a story for another time.

But although his name is up there, I know he is not really there.  It is just a place to go.  I am pretty sure I will be there again too, at least someday.

But today as I reflect upon him, I know he lives on in me.  I may not get to the columbarium often, but he is still on my phone on speed dial and I have never been able to erase it.  I still have the Brooklyn accent when I get mad.  I still have the Rich Tirman sense of humor, and I still wish he were alive to tell him how  thankful I am to be his son.

I still remember moving to Indianapolis and for years people asking me if I was related to Rich Tirman.  I learned to ask before I answered if they liked him or not.  Then regardless, I would tell them the truth.  My dad and I often laughed at that.  At the end of his life, I was able to take part in getting him places and sometimes even wanting just to leave him in those places when he was difficult.  In fact, a couple of years before he died he got mad at me (Brooklyn mad) for getting lost after I had driven him to my Uncle Mickey and Aunt Judy’s way out on Long Island.  It was maybe 1 in the morning.  I finally pulled up, got his stuff out of my vehicle, hugged my Uncle Mickey and Aunt Judy, and told my dad to take a plane home! Yep, I left!  It is a legendary Rich and Tom Tirman story that we all still laugh about!  And within a week of him coming home, we were again fine.

Anyway, Happy Birthday dad, and thanks for the memories.  Two of our sisters, Stephanie and Sarah, should have been there to greet you.  We all know you missed them both terribly.  So I pray that that have given you all much joy.  And I will likely see you soon, or at least sooner than Mike and Anna!  You are both loved and missed.

https://www.indystar.com/obituaries/ins091988

Love,

Tommy+

I do not sign onto FaceBook often, in fact I have considered removing my profile from it. I started using it at the beginning to stalk my kids, but they soon migrated to other sites that I just do not understand. I also try to keep up with the happenings of classmates from high school and college, but I have been shocked to discover that they are now all old people, and I am not quite sure how that happened.

I have been working as an Interim Rector since the end of May at St. Michael and All Angels in Peoria. It has been a lot of travel and a lot of time, even for a young guy like me. I happen to be at home today, and ironically Amanda is at a conference until Thursday night. This puts her dad and I in charge while she is gone, and I am certain that does not worry her at all. I doubt she even remembers how last time she was gone (two weeks ago) we double-dose and double-fed the dogs by accident, and fortunately the dogs told no one.

Although time did fly, we did get to see the kids and grandkids over the summer. We went to Texas in early August when it was approximately 200 degrees outside and we spent a lot of time outside too! But it was fun to see Scotty and Kenzie and our two grandsons.

And then, Steph and Izzy were just here, stopping by on the way to and from a wedding in Izzy’s family in

Pennsylvania. It was a short visit but one for which I was thankful. It was not 200 degrees as this was at our home in Indiana.

Ben was home for a lot of the summer, although we did not see as much of him as we would have liked as we suspect he may be a vampire due to his interesting sleep schedules. He moved into the dorm at the Indiana Academy at Ball State in mid-August, and as I understand it, they only have classes in the light. So perhaps he has changed his sleep schedule.

But I miss all our kids terribly. I know that when I was their age my first thought, or really any thought, would likely not have been about spending time with my parents. But now that my mom and dad are gone (they both died, they are not lost) I wish I could have done better.

But despite all this, I am proud of all of our kids.

I love them and wish I had more time to see them.

Tommy+

Well it seems like the last time I wrote anything I was about 3 decades younger, a high-energy “sharp as a tack” priest, and  about 100 pounds lighter.  But in fact, it has only been a little less than two years since my last post on here.

So as a commitment to full disclosure, here are some discoveries I have made: 1) I am clearly still capable of writing; 2) I am close to two years older than I was in that last post; 3) I am still an active priest, however believing I have high energy and am “as sharp as a tack” could really just be my own delusions, (my wife still keeps me around though); 4) I am still working to lose weight,  but I still feel like the before model in a weight loss ad, and; 5) I am terribly disappointed that the St. Louis Blues did not make the playoffs this year even if it is completely irrelevant to my last post.  (How is that for an amazing run-on sentence??)

So as I have done before, I thought I would re-up my commitment to writing now that hockey season is over for me and include the wonderful  picture of Steph, Izzy, and me at a Blues game from a few weeks ago on March 28th.  As a priest (I had mentioned that) that morning I had been at our annual Chrism Mass for the Diocese of Quincy at the Cathedral, so it was wonderful able to take part in both!

One of the challenges, or hard parts of raising kids, is that they grow up and move away.  That, I know, is hard on a lot of parents.  For me, it is particularly hard, and one of the reasons that I will make myself available to see them at any opportunity,   I love my kids and I know they love me, which incidentally is not a delusion.  In fact, I grew up a Montreal Canadiens fan.  I even have an autographed picture proudly displayed downstairs of my hockey idol Guy Lafleur – “the flower” or better yet known as “le demon blond” (only to those trying to defend against him).  But because Stephanie went to college in St. Charles, and then got her doctorate in St. Louis, I, of my own freewill, abandoned the Habs for the Blues.  You see, she became a Blues fan, and that changed everything for me.  I switched my allegiance so we would have something else to do together, and it has been a blast.   At this March 28th game our tickets were just behind the Blues bench to the right.  Steph and Izzy however had a friend who invited us up to a suite. right next to the Blues broadcast booth.  We had such a great time!

And although it is hard for me to believe, today Scotty (the oldest boy but middle child who lives in Houston) happens to be in

Indianapolis.  And at some point Ben (our youngest) will wake up (it is only 1pm here and Ben is almost 16 – so we have plenty of time) and he, Amanda, and I will head down to see Scotty and go to dinner.  It is certainly wonderful timing and another awesome opportunity to be hanging with our kids.  All three of them are my greatest accomplishment of life, and I love them very much. I am proud of who they are and all they have done.

But my part in all their lives has not been that hard.  I was reflecting on all of this yesterday as I often  do on April 14th, which this year was the 15th anniversary of my stroke.  Of course the stroke was why I started writing this blog in its current form in the first place, it was self-discovered therapy for myself.  But the writing has led to a lot of things too.  It changed my life, and it changed it in a good way.  And when I started to write today, I wondered why I ever stopped.  No promises here, but I do know I am better when I write and write often.

But it makes me laugh to think about it.  When I first made a blog site, or whatever kids call them these days, I intended to write about my vocation and the changes the Church and society were enduring.  I figured my brilliant theological mind (one of my delusions) was going to get out there and say something important.  But it just didn’t turn out to be God’s plan.  My stroke impaired so very much, and honesty much of that included things into which I had invested so much (like my education).  I had trouble thinking, so I wrote to clear my jumbled thoughts and to survive.  And I just wrote what came out.  Oddly enough, it never was too theological or even brilliant for all that matters.

But I believe that God moves in my life in ways that matter.  Ice hockey was always part of my life.  When I was a kid I wanted to be Guy Lafleur and play in the NHL, but I ended up in seminary instead.  (A real surprise to anyone who knew me as a kid).  So I never made it to the pros, but I confess that if at the March 28th game someone from the Blues would have come up to me and asked me to lace up, I would have, and I also could absolutely guarantee that we still would not have made the playoffs.

What I have learned is that there are seasons for everything.  I can relive them in my mind, like believing I was Guy Lafleur at 10 years old.  It’s fun, but if at almost 62 if I were to now lace up and get out there, someone is likely going to the hospital, and that someone l would only THINK they were le demon blond.

But this new season is emerging with family, joy, hope, retirement, new challenges, lots of cool things God has yet to reveal.

Maybe I will just lace up for that, and enjoy it all as it comes to me!

Blessings to you all!

Tommy+

PS…yes I did not post before we went to Indy so I was able to add the boys to the post.