Why the Blackhawks Make Me Believe in God

So, there I was, driving and crying.

Crying because I'm tired. Crying because I've had a lot of family stuff happen since Dad died. Crying because we're selling his house. Crying because I'm afraid it won't sell in this economy. Crying because I got caught in a family dynamic that I hate more than I have words for. But mostly crying because I miss Michael. Miss his laugh. Miss his humor and the way he never failed to make me smile. Miss the "rocklike substance" he was for me (and a whole lot of others) at times like these. Mostly right now I miss going with him to Lenten services. This time of year with him was profoundly meaningful and is hitting me terribly hard as a result.

So, with each mile I'm crying a little more. Not so bad I have to pull over, but trending that way, for sure.

And then I see a guy walking on the street in a Hawks sweatshirt and I think I should try to smile at that but it's kind of hard. So, I blink a few times fast to clear my vision and I turn the corner and into the parking lot of the auto parts store (BOTH my low beam lights burned out the other NIGHT). Since I was not wanting to go crying into the store I thought I would distract myself by checking the email on my phone.

Who was there?

Kevin Magnuson. Yes, that Magnuson. Keith's son.

He was wishing my husband and I a happy playoff season as we face off against the Canucks in the first round and sent me an article about why the Cup meant so much to his family last year. (That victory night was the last time I saw my own father, as it turns out.)

How on earth would it have happened that I would get an email from Kevin, you ask?

Well, first a little back story:

Keith was Michael's best friend. Keith came to visit Michael in the hospital after his injury and was at his side throughout. He fed him his first solid food on Christmas eve. He was with him when he took his first steps and became a quadriplegic miracle. He was everything to Michael and his loss was devastating.

I don't think a week went by when we didn't mention "The Chief". I never got to meet him but he showed up all the time when I was with Michael in synchronistic appearances of his number "3" usually. I got to attend the game where his jersey was retired and both Michael and I shed tears as we listened to his son, Kevin, speak at the occasion. (I didn't meet the Magnuson family at that time, though.)

So, because my husband is amazing and awesome, I got the coolest Christmas present ever this year.

A gorgeous Keith Magnuson jersey. Full stitching, real deal, awesome jersey.

And it so happens that we were going to be downtown having a brunch with friends a couple months later on Hockey Awareness Day.  I don't wear sports memorabilia out to nice restaurants but I was morally obligated to that day so I had my Magnuson jersey on.

And after a lovely meal I stood to go and suddenly there was a tap on my shoulder. I turned around only to see a very nice red-headed young gentleman smiling and offering his hand.

"I'm Kevin Magnuson."

Before the poor guy knew what was happening I had him gripped in a bear hug and told him who I was and about my relationship with Michael and showed him the pics of the "Hockey Puck" headstone that I have in my phone.

And then I left the restaurant and broke down crying on the sidewalk. Kind of like I am now.

Somehow in Chicago on a Sunday afternoon game day with untold numbers of people out and about and countless Hawks attire being sported I happened to be right where Kevin was and he, in honor of his father and because he is such a stellar young man, made a point to come up to me (as he likes to do whenever he sees his Dad's jersey) to thank me for wearing it.

"Wear it proud," he said.

Believe me, I do.

So, when a couple months later, the "I just can't take it anymore right now" distress signal went out into the ether and somehow Kevin chose that very minute I was pulling into the parking lot to send me the article about his Dad and happy playoff wishes you will never be able to tell me that there weren't two hockey pucks looking down on me working that whole thing out.

Now if they can just help us shut down Luongo...

Comments

[Di]

You made me all teary, missy. I'm glad you have those two looking out for you xx

[Nancy Cassidy]

And here is a virtual HUG, just like the big squeeze we had on that sidewalk! Love you.

[erin]

I can only echo Di, Nancy and you. I'm teary. I'm sending a cyber abrazatón. I love you.

And I KNOW there are two hockey pucks working hard for you....

Couldn´t hurt to ASK them what they might see fit to do about Luongo, could it? ;)

[Kate]

So, add me to Di, Nancy, and Erin. Teary and loving you, and wondering...what's a Luongo?
: )

[Laura]

Thank you all. Always so nice to see you here, especially when I'm feeling a little punky.
As for "What's a Luongo?"...Kate, I like your attitude. : )