Thank you, Mike Birbigula

Thank you. Long story long, I have been an avid listener to the Working it Out podcast and loved going on the journey with you as you developed your new show, “Old Man and the Pool.” I was looking forward to possibly getting the opportunity to see the finished show one day. To my surprise, the show was being presented in Chicago, and the residency at the Steppenwolf started on my birthday. It felt like it was meant for me.

I do not often make plans for my birthday, not because I hate birthdays nor am I uncomfortable with getting older. I have a history of plans I make for my birthday going awry in interesting ways. One year I thought it would be fun to going bowling my birthday. My partner and I had been going to our local bowling alley, which seldom had more than three other lanes full when we were there, fairly often and found we really loved it. So, plans were made for myself, my partner and my friend to go to the local alley near my work after we clocked out. We arrived and found that this afternoon was the one time a month to do a full lane cleaning with their heavy duty machines. All lanes were shut down until later that evening. We decided to trek back to my local lanes, an hour away. We arrived and found that the entire place was rented out by the boys and girls club for their annual bowling night. In all the times Marcus and I had gone bowling in the past year I had never not been able to get one lane with relative ease, but it was my birthday, so it weirdly was not an option. And apropo to how things had transpired in the past for birthday plans.

Even with my weird birthday stuff, I felt compelled to buck my unluck and try to make “a plan” for my birthday. Now, I was not going to press my unluck to hard and choose to try and attend a performance on the weekend after my actual birthday. On March 3, my partner bought three tickets for me, my dear friend from Arizona, and my sister to attend the show. Still, I am sure my weird birthday energy made the oddity of the weather be interesting enough the early evening of the show on April 30th to have those emergency sirens go off in the middle of the show.

Being that attending this show was my “birthday” celebration it prompted my just older sister to feel more apt to attend with me. I have five sisters, three of us have seven children under the age of four between us. As you can imagine, that makes it difficult for us to get a child free outing together. This show gave us the opportunity to do just that.

As the show started I felt a surreal feeling like I was a part of the production. It was similar to how I felt when I did tech for the plays in high school. I was not a part of the performance, however, I still felt ownership in the process. I had some ownership this evening from listening to the podcast. This also meant I knew most of the show in a skeletal fashion. On March 26th, my Dad worked a full Saturday shift hauling scrap in a big truck around the city. He had done this for over forty years. He accidentally FaceTimed my Mom from the scrap yard, old people and phones, and took the happy accident to take her on a virtual tour of the place. An hour later he called my Mom on the way home to tell her he was having a heart attack.

In July last year my mom sent a group text to my sisters and I to let us know she was bringing Dad to the ER for a possible heart attack. The cardiologist determined that he was moments away from a massive heart attack and place two stints. He was put on a restrictive diet and regular check ins with the cardiologist. On March 26th we got another text in our group chat that Dad was going to the ER once again. Twenty minutes later a simple text to the group “He Died.”

Even though I knew the crux of the show, I had did not know there was going to be such a stark similarity to what we had just experienced and are still processing. Like I said at the beginning, Thank you. Thank you for coming to Chicago for my birthday so my sister was with me. Thank you for crafting your shows in such a masterful way to present such difficult topics in a real and vulnerable way with enough humor weaved in to make two sisters grieving their father on a rare outing be able to cry and have such joy in the experience.

This is the days of us and I am so grateful to have spent this day at the show. I love you.

Take Care,

Theresa Coomer