Last Time I Checked, Theft is Theft

I think I have mentioned before that I play World of Warcraft. I've been playing for the last 18 months or so. TJ got me hooked. So I have a lil undead warlock--I've been through a few guilds, as everyone has--and I play and I've made some cyber-friends, one of which we met when we went through NC. These are carefully built relationships.

I am part of a developing end-game guild that had the highest of intentions. We have a de-facto guildmaster, an expatriate Scots-Canadian, who came from one of the BIG end game guilds. It was considered quite the coup, and high expectations were made by everyone. There is also a "council"... but I won't go into that.

There has been a group of what I call s__tdisturbers. They have been fomenting ill intents for awhile now. Well, this past week, part of the "council" not only left the guild, but have left the server. This in itself has been no big deal, right? Happens all the time. They also pulled a bunch of people with them. Again, it happens.

Problem is, one of them had the guild "bank toon," a character a player has that is used solely to store profession materials, valuable item drops, and other things saved for the guild as a whole. Not only did that person take the toon with them, they took the items with them, items that belonged to the guild as a whole--a couple of month's worth of raiding days into Molten Core kind of materials and drops, raids that last a minimum of three hours and are difficult to fill spots for. Hard-won things. All gone. Not even on the server anymore.

To add insult to injury, the person "returned" items such as wool bandages, which anyone can make. The guild is left with nothing.

Yes, it's just a game. I have a problem, though, with thievery of any kind, be it virtual or real. Those items did not just belong to these five to eight people, it belonged to the guild of over 200. So my faith is shaken in these people I had considered cyber-friends. There is still the core of infuriated and depressed guildies, everyone's in shock, and there's a lot of name calling and finger pointing. Sad.

I am thinking of taking a sabbatical. My friends Donkeysaurus, Thanakar, Darkraevyn, and Rathdeathch will scream to high heaven, but the desire to play has now worn off. On top of it, the expansion pack is coming out in November--just in time for Christmas! eep!--and I just can't justify spending $50 for 10 levels, flying mounts or no.

~~

So if you are a World of Warcraft player on the Eldre'Thalas realm, and hear about a guild that got their entire guild bank ripped off, I swear it's true. And if you know Sindarella, Plural, Jezzabelle or any of their friends on the Eldre'Thalas server or the one they scarpered off to, give 'em hell. Spread the word.

These people... holy cow! If they do this in a game, what are they like in real life?

What do you call something worse than a ninja-looter?

St Louis the King (August 25) and Other Items of Passing

Funny how St Louis the King's feast day is this Friday. A king who truly knew how to rule and lead, from prayer to family to being a warrior (not that he didn't have his days). As a prominent Franciscan Tertiary, as they were known then, he is the patron, along with Elizabeth of Hungary, of the SFO.

St Louis has been in my mind for a week now, after a mood-darkening tour through a place appropriately called "Relics." At least they had that straight.... anyhow, I'd been passing this place on Camelback for a long while now, and after taking care of some business, I had time to wander in. I thought it would be just another Scottsdale/North Phoenix trendy crap place.

Boy, was I wrong.

I walked in, and initially it was a rustic wood table, an old French olive oil clay jar, things of that nature. Then my eye was caught by a glass case--I walked closer to find a very old carved wood saint of Spanish origin, probably 1700s or so if not earlier, along with other very old figurines and such from some church. Then the window caught my attention.

There was dear St Louis the King, a gorgeous stained glass window ripped intact from some church in France, frame and all. Next to it was, if I remember correctly, the patron saint of Rouen (the name escapes me now). It was in the same style and similar frame, although this window didn't survive the years as well. This priceless, irreplaceable artwork in some crappy antique shop!

As I turned back to the case thoughtfully, a monstrance on the glass case of the checkout area almost made me ill. What is *that* doing here? A beautiful gold monstrance with blue enamel workings, sitting in its obviously native reliquary arch--ripped intact from whatever wall it had been in.

As I continued through this place, I shivered to the bone--ironwork crosses, bannisters, and accents, all of the same style and time period, cannibalized by some hunter. There was an entire wood panel that included the confessional door, which had been incorrectly identified ... things of this nature that gave me the eerie sense of history raped for profit.

I'm not really that sentimental, but as I continued on I had the feeling that Jesus was weeping, saying "look what they have done to My Church!" All the religious that had been at this French church, monastery or convent over the hundreds of years (many tags placed the dates in the XVI-XVII centuries) must have been looking on sorrowfully as the place to which they had dedicated their lives was ripped apart. I could smell, feel, know that history in all that iron and wood, destroyed in the name of profit and secularism.

By the time I left, I was upset. Oh, if I only had the money to purchase the window, the monstrance, and various other religious items, and save them from being some ignorant person's "decor"... My heart was so sore, and I joined in weeping with Jesus.

What sacrilege.

~~

My boss is active in the Right to Life movement. Sometimes, I prepare his newsletters, announcements and replies to the editor. I was working on one of the latter today.

It's such an explosive topic that even as he merely sought to straighten the record in a local paper, emotional and provoking phrases rang out from the screen I was typing them on to.

I had no idea that an endorsement from Right to Life for a candidate was so coveted to the point that candidates will twist the truth to bend the voters. Not that I'm surprised--I grew up around party politics--but the gubenatorial primary promises to be somewhat inflammatory.

~~

I hate it when a choir mangles a song.

Even if you're not an advocate of post Vatican II music, I think "The Cry of the Poor" by John Foley, SJ, will move you. As a part of that oft-mentioned awesome choir I had been a part of, we had done this piece often. Four part harmony with the organ only undertoning with the old church's acoustics, it was quite haunting. It's a tune that will stick in your head in a good way.

It's supposed to be in a moderate tempo, which we had slightly slowed at places for effect--I believe the Italian musical term is fine. This past Sunday I went to 8:30 choir in New Parish at which they have the contemporary choir, which has a 50/50 chance of getting on my nerves. For Communion, they did "The Cry of the Poor," dragging out the refrain to the point were every beat was almost two seconds each. Then, to brighten our day, they turned the verses into a pop beat. Not the 'slightly faster' that I'm looking at in my copy of Choral Praise as I write this, but a full out, almost Harry Connick fast jazz beat kind of pace.

Oh yes, they did that. All the way through. Refrain dragging and the verses popping. I was astonished.

No matter that they were in tune... with the clarinet bleating and the drums whapping, it totally destroyed the aura that this piece is supposed to create.

I will skip out on 8:30 from here on out. It's 7:00 am, or 12:30 when it recommences in October, at New Parish or 9:00 am at Old Parish, tho the thought of Fr Hollywood letting his ego shine kills me too--but he does have wonderful taste in music.

I had a hard time explaining to TJ about being a "music snob."

~~

I'm now entering a fearful phase in the race to conceive before I turn forty. It's too new, too raw to write about it at this time, but I will at some future date.

~~

Pray for my dear friend Terri DeMuro, who has been very ill.

A Different Kind of SAT

The SAT (Salvation Aptitude Test)
I have stolen this gleefully from Noel J. Augustyn’s article on the New Oxford Review’s old website (http://www.newoxfordreview.org/1998-99/apr99/noelaugustyn.html ). If you go to this page, there is a funny but sad and illuminating commentary on the state of Catechism in the Church today.

How many of these can you answer correctly?

1. One of the prayers at Mass refers to this man as "our father in faith." Both Jews and Arabs regard him as their ancestor. Jews, Christians, and Muslims all consider him to be their spiritual father. Name this patriarch.

2. This patriarch and his wife, Sarah, had a son in their old age. God tested the father by asking him to sacrifice this son but stopped him from doing so at the last minute. Name the son.

3. Years later, this son and his wife, Rebekah, had a son who was to be the father of what became the Twelve Tribes of Israel. Who ,was he? (Hint: "Israel" was the name later given to him by God. He had a brother named Esau.)

4. We all know that Moses led the Hebrews (Israelites) out of Egypt in what is called the Exodus. How did the Hebrews come to live in Egypt hundreds of years earlier?

5. When we think of Moses we think, too, of Aaron and Joshua. Identify either Aaron or Joshua.

6. Moses received the Ten Commandments on Mt. Sinai. List the Ten Commandments.

7. Pick one of the Ten Commandments and tell why you believe it is especially important.

8. Apart from the Ten Commandments, there are the Two Great Commandments. State them.

9. What is the connection between the Two Great Commandments and the Ten Commandments?

10. State the "Golden Rule."

11. Saul was the first king of Israel. Who was the second? (Hint: He is considered the most important of the Jewish kings, and as a boy he was a shepherd.)

12. The second king of Israel had a son named Solomon. Write something you know about Solomon.

13. After the first reading at Mass we recite or sing prayers and hymns, some of which are very old, so old they are said to have been written by Solomon's father. What do we call these prayers and hymns?

14. There are three books in the Old Testament named after women. Name one of them.

15. Who is Job?

16. In speaking of the Old Testament, we hear the phrase "the Law and the Prophets." Name one of the Old Testament prophets.

17. Write something brief about one of the following: "the Babylonian Captivity" or "the Maccabees."

18. The first four books of the New Testament are the Gospels; their authors are called the Evangelists. Name the four Evangelists.

19. What is meant by the term "the Annunciation"?

20. What is meant by the term "the Visitation"?

21. We all know what we celebrate on the feast of the Nativity (which is also called Christmas), but what do we celebrate on the feast of the Epiphany (which is also called the 12th day of Christmas)?

22. Three places of importance in the childhood of Jesus are Bethlehem, Jerusalem, and Nazareth. Pick one and tell why it was important in the early life of Jesus.

23. Who is John the Baptist?

24. Lent has forty days, just as a particular episode in the life of Jesus had forty days, before He began His public ministry. What was this episode?

25. We know that Jesus often taught in parables. Name your favorite parable and tell why it is your favorite.

26. Fill in the blank: One of the most famous of Jesus' teachings is called the Sermon on the _________.

27. Jesus is often called "the Divine Physician" because He cured people of various illnesses. Write something about your favorite miracle or sign where Jesus cured a sick person or sick people.

28. Jesus taught us to pray what we often call the "Our Father." There is a more formal name for this prayer. What is it?

29. What is "the Transfiguration"? [Given today's Feast, this should be easy!]

30. There are two kings named Herod in the Gospels. Pick one of them and tell something about him.

31. Bethany is the name of a village near Jerusalem. (There is another Bethany "across the Jordan," where John the Baptist was baptizing.) Martha and Mary, who were friends of Jesus, lived in Bethany with their brother. Name their brother and tell why he is important.

32. What is "Palm Sunday" all about?

33. Why is "the Passion," from the Gospels, read at Mass on Palm Sunday?

34. Whenever we recite the Creed at Mass, or say the Apostles' Creed, we mention Pontius Pilate. Who was he?

35. Name the person who was forced to help Jesus carry His cross. (Hint: He is remembered in one of the Stations of the Cross.)

36. Pick one of these two terms and tell something about it: "the Upper Room" or "the Garden of Gethsemane."

37. Golgotha is the Hebrew name for the hill near Jerusalem where Jesus was crucified. This place is also known by another name. What is that name?

38. According to the Gospels, Jesus spoke seven times in His three hours on the cross. Choose one of these seven sayings (also called "the Seven Last Words") and quote it, or paraphrase it (that means, put it in your own words).

39. Tell how one of these men is connected to the Crucifixion: Nicodemus; Joseph of Arimathea.

40. Jesus' first appearance after His Resurrection was to a woman. Name her.

41. There is a phrase in common usage -even today that contains the name of one of the Apostles. Fill in the blank: "Doubting ." What did this Apostle doubt?

42. Who is called "the Prince of the Apostles"?

43. The last appearance of Jesus to His Apostles after His Resurrection is commemorated annually by a Holy Day of Obligation 40 days after Easter (or on the seventh Sunday of Easter). It is called "the Solemnity of the … ?

44. Fifty days after the Passover, Jews celebrate God's giving the Ten Commandments to Moses; fifty days after Easter, Christians celebrate God's giving the Holy Spirit to the Apostles and Mary. What is the name of this Christian feast?

45. Before he became a great missionary, St. Paul was a great persecutor of the early Church. He guarded the cloaks of the men who stoned to death the man we call the first martyr. Name this first martyr.

46. St. Paul wrote many letters (the Greek word for letters is Epistles) to early Christians and their communities in the Mediterranean world. In a letter to those at Corinth, a city in Greece, he described what we call "the Three Theological Virtues." The third of these, which is "charity" or "love," Paul called "the greatest." What are the other two?

47. St. Paul and St. Peter were martyred during the reign of the emperor Nero about thirty years after the Crucifixion. They were martyred in the capital city of the empire over which Nero ruled. Name this city.

48. For much of the first three centuries of her history, the Church suffered persecution. Many Christians were martyred and often Christians couldn't worship in public. Then, in the early part of the fourth century, an emperor ended the persecutions. Name him. (Hint: He named the eastern capital of the empire after himself, it was formerly called Byzantium and is called Istanbul today.)

49. Name the Seven Sacraments.

50. Which sacrament does every Christian receive?

51. Name the Corporal Works of Mercy (there are seven).

52. Pick one of the Six Precepts of the Church and tell why you think it is especially important.

53. "Pride" is often' called the worst of the Seven Deadly Sins. Pick another one of the seven and tell why you think it is especially "deadly."

54. A prayer that has been popular since the Middle Ages is called "the Rosary." It now traditionally consists of 15 "decades" where we think about certain "mysteries" in the lives of Our Lord and Our Lady. These mysteries are in three groups of five: the Joyful; the Sorrowful; and the Glorious. Take one of these groups and name the five mysteries in that group. (If you can't think of a mystery's title, then describe what event is remembered in that mystery.)

55. Over her history of nearly 2,000 years, the Church has been divided many times. Some of these divisions have never been completely healed. For example, the year 1054 is when "the Great Schism" between East and West occurred. The year 1517 is often cited as the beginning of the Protestant Reformation. Say something about either one of these two historical events that have seriously affected Christian unity.

56. Name your patron saint and write something about him or her.

57. Name a favorite saint besides your patron saint, and write something about him or her.

58. Name your favorite Holy Day of Obligation (besides Christmas).

59. In what continent is the Holy Land? A. Europe, B. Asia, C. Africa, D. Australia.

60. Ecumenical Councils are meetings when bishops from all over the world come together. Some Councils have been held in places like Nicaea and Ephesus, in what is now Turkey, or in places like Trent, Italy. The most recent Council was held from 1962 to 1965. What name or title is given to this Council?

61. Since Old Testament times, God's people have practiced "fasting." In Lent, for example, adult Catholics "fast" on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday. (And during Lent all Catholics abstain from eating meat on Fridays.) We also "fast" for at least an hour before receiving the Eucharist. What do we mean by "fast" and why do you think we do it?

62. What is the Christian virtue of chastity, and why is it important?

63. The Church has four signs or "marks." The Church is (fill in the blanks): One, _____, Catholic, and _________.

64. Why did God make you?

Older readers will note that the last question of this exam is the first question of the old Baltimore Catechism. It's a good question with which to end, for it remains the basic question (and as coaches are fond of saying, success is built on mastery of "the fundamentals").

I know I have to do some research!

And thus it has come to pass...

Something we all knew was coming down the pass one day was confirmed by my father when I saw him this morning. This something should have been done ten years ago, but all understand why action wasn't taken at that point.

My brother and his wife are divorcing.

It is nothing surprising; it has been a farce for nearly fifteen out of the nineteen years they have been married. The first four weren't all that great, either, but tolerable.

Dad called it from day one: when Bro brought her home to introduce her as his fiancee, they left to go dancing, and there was a long silence. Then, Dad said in a sad voice, "That b***h is going to be trouble." Mom and I pooh-poohed him... but we found out in short order that she was, indeed, trouble, a long list that would take up too much room.

One of the main reasons my brother stuck to it was the very real threat that he would lose his children. His wife has been a little psycho for years; the psychob***h insinuated that my father would molest their children at one point (this was her justification for denying my parents their grandchildren), an insinuation that caused outrage from the top down. Dad was astounded; my poor mother came to me in tears, and after telling me what had transpired, she said, "Your father is not a perfect man, but he is a gentleman, and a kind man," but this accusation was over the top. It broke her heart. "He doesn't deserve this." That was about fifteen years ago. So, the reasoning goes, if she could try and pin something so heinous on Dad, what would she try and pin on my brother if he started divorce proceedings?

It's a first in our family; while it probably should have been done years ago, and while nobody advocates divorce, we all understand and really, it's overdue. I feel sorry for the kids, but my nephew just shrugged, and my niece isn't surprised either (they're 18 and not quite 16, respectively).

And, while there's been tension between myself and my brother for years, I am sorry, so very very sorry. She's going to try to clean him out if she can--not that she needs it; she has a trust and all that. It's just spite. She wants the house, alimony, child support (my niece is almost 16, so not too much longer on that), and whatever else. Nasty grasping harpy.

"But you're Catholic," sneers the cynic from the balcony. "You can't get divorced."

The Church has never wavered on its stance that marriage is a sacrament not to be taken lightly, and not to be disposed of lightly. If in fact my brother pursued an annulment, I think he might get it with some of the incidents that have happened over the years.

I don't think my brother has taken it lightly. I think he's tried, especially for the sake of the kids, although I have to be fair and say he is not blameless. I do know they went to a counselor. I also know that things as they have been can't go on, especially with the poor kids. The kids are sad but know that things can't go on like this.

Via my dad I sense that he's taking it hard. It's been a tough year: Mama dying, his mother-in-law grievously ill, and now this. 2006 has been, in the infamous words of the Queen of England, his annus horribilus.

So I pray for my brother and for his beautiful kids... and that it gets itself done as soon as possible.

Fire On the Mountains... San Bernardino N.F.

I swear, this is the decade of the Berdue… the Big Nasty a couple of years ago in the Front Country and now this. I hope the Angeles takes a break. More information here.

To break up the seriousness of the gravity of the fire situation on the San Bernardino, here is a piece of old humor. For those who have not a clue what wildland fire entails, this gives you a quick idea of what it’s like in a humorous slant.

For my former crewmates and pals from the Berdue, and all those who are fighting wildland fires this year, especially at the one in Joshua Tree… oh, yay, JT… and Cabazon... BE SAFE OUT THERE!

WHEN THE FIRE SEASON IS DONE

One day we will all be returning to a normal life, and it may not be easy. Here are some tips for a slow, sure withdrawal from fireline life:

Make a tape recording of helicopters flying overhead so you can replay it for yourself when you go to bed.

Turn on all the lights in your bedroom before trying to sleep.

Put your stinky, dirty socks beneath your pillow.

Sprinkle some dirt and pine needles on your sheets.

Have the paper deliverer honk their horn for you at 4:00 a.m. A lot.

During the day, turn on a stove burner on to warm and sit on it. Make a sandwich, sit on it, then go and drop it in the dirt in the flower bed. Go and stand beside a full smelly garbage can when you eat it.

Twice a day, hit yourself in the shins with a hammer. (Pulaskis can really appreciate this one! ...Me!)

If you carpool to work, ride in the trunk. Then, tell your carpool driver to forget to pick you up when it’s time to go home.

In the evening, at home, start a fire in the fireplace, close the damper, shut off all the lights and read by flashlight.

For breakfast, cook a nice omelet, pour a cup of coffee, refrigerate both for 15 minutes before putting them on the table. Then, lay your head in the plate and go to sleep.

Veterans of firelines, especially hotshot folks, can add volumes to this old piece of humor I found one time. It could go on and on.

Pray for the firefighters and for all the people whose homes and livelihoods are threatened by these two rompin, stompin fires.

What is Your “Thorn in the Side”?

I went to Mass at the Basilica last night, and one of the readings has been sticking in my head since then.

This Sunday’s second reading, II Corinthians 12:7-10, makes mention of something that has driven Biblical scholars nuts forever: what was St Paul’s “thorn in the side” he refers to. There are no concrete clues in the passage as it was read today:

Brothers and sisters:
That I, Paul, might not become too elated,
because of the abundance of the revelations,
a thorn in the flesh was given to me, an angel of Satan,
to beat me, to keep me from being too elated.
Three times I begged the Lord about this, that it might leave me,
but he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you,
for power is made perfect in weakness.”
I will rather boast most gladly of my weaknesses,
in order that the power of Christ may dwell with me.
Therefore, I am content with weaknesses, insults,
hardships, persecutions, and constraints,for the sake of Christ;
for when I am weak, then I am strong.

The topic ends at this point.

The footnote in my New American/St Joseph’s Bible says this about the thorn reference: “variously interpreted as a sickness or physical disability, a temptation, or a handicap connected with his apostolic activity. But since the Hebrew ‘thorn in the flesh,’ like English ‘thorn in the side,’ refers to persons, Paul may be referring to some especially persistent and obnoxious opponent.”

No matter the attribution, it’s a powerful passage. A friend from the SFO called today to see when we could get together this week to discuss various matters, and she brought up this reading that she'd listened to at Mass this morning. It was ironic because I was reading the above passage online when she called. I wasn't the only one the reading touched.

Thorn in the side… three times… keep me from being elated. It tells that Paul’s apostolic days were not rosy (not that any of the apostles had it easy!), that he had difficulties from within and without; that whatever this ‘thorn’ was, that it was intolerable to the point where he asked the Lord to take it away not once, but three times. Christ had risen from the worst of treatments, to a criminal’s death. He had asked the Father to take that cup from him in the Garden—as Paul has asked here—and both of them had to submit: Christ for the sake of His Father, Paul for the “sake of Christ.”

But what does that mean for us?

To use a tired expression, we all have our crosses. Some are not as crushing as others, but all have the tendency to make the bearer beg for a break. As Mother Teresa said—and something I used as my email signature for the longest time—“I know God won’t give me anything I can’t handle; I just wish He didn’t trust me so much.” And, essentially, this is what the Lord told Paul. In our vernacular, “suck it up and trust Me.”

It is only human to want to dump our personal crosses. But it is God’s grace to us, as it was said here, that enables us to bear so much. “My grace,” He said, “is sufficient for you,” He said. Sufficient for his every need in his mission, and to overcome whatever angel of Satan was persecuting him.

Notice that there is a positive spin on this, that Paul discovered positive value in his pain: it “keeps me from being too elated.” Overconfidence, perhaps, in his preaching? Or overconfidence due to the visions he alluded to? Also, he has reached a contentment that shall be borne out despite the hardships because God is with him. Christ dwells with him in his weaknesses, thereby becoming all the stronger… as He does for all of us, if we just look for Him.

Which begs for our personal reflection: who and what are the thorns in our lives? Do we trust in His grace and mercy to get through the tough parts of life? Do we truly understand that Christ helps those who are weak if they only believe?

Who/what are the thorns in your life?
How do you deal with them?
Are you resolute in shouldering them?
Or do you try and palm them off as someone else’s problem?
Do you trust God to help you?

God trusted Christ to bear his burden; Christ trusted Paul to carry his. God trusts that we will handle ours.

But do we?

Tired Ramblings from a Tired Mind

I know I’ve been quiet lately; so much on my mind and so much going on. I think “There’s a topic!” only to have the whole thing in my head swept away as something else is plopped on my plate. In a nutshell…

• The most significant thing to happen to me in the last post is seeing my almost-sixteen year old niece for the first time in almost twelve years. She is the only granddaughter in this family, and if we had been allowed, we would have spoiled the girl rotten. I would have recognized her anywhere, because except for the obvious maturing process, her face has not changed a bit. The smiling eyes, the beaming smile… the only difference being that her hair has become almost as dark as her mother’s. Bright, brilliant and beautiful. I loved her when she was little and I love her now, this sprite. One of the last things she said was, “I don’t understand why it took eleven years…” I don’t either, babe. I really don’t. Not my doing or yours.
• Her brother is starting college next month. It doesn’t seem possible that I was there when he was born eighteen Julys ago, but here we are. He’s going for engineering. My God. It makes me feel old, except that I was only sixteen when he was born. So, I am not THAT old.
• I really really really really really really REALLY want to go to a Dallas Cowboys game in Dallas. I’ve been a Dallas fan since I was tiny, and used to go when they’d come and play the Cards here in Phoenix… but that experience sucks and I’d rather not give any of my money to the Bidwells. It would probably be towards October or November, providing the money is free… but what fun that would be! Unfortunately, tickets are astronomical. We’ll see. And besides, I find it interesting that Big Mouth Owens has been quiet as a church mouse lately. I fainted when he did sign with the Cowboys… can Parcells curb his monster ego and motor mouth? Time will tell. In any case…. GO BOYS!!!
• Now that I’ve gained kind of a bird’s eye view of our legal system from my fledgling career as a legal secretary, I can honestly say it’s massively screwed up. Due to confidentiality rules I can’t really say what particular matter I’m thinking of, but I can say that one can sue someone NOT AT FAULT in an incident and drive said defendants into bankruptcy. Pardon the language, but that is BULLSHIT. No wonder the costs of everything are going up.
• The rain of crap never ends. Once poor Mom died, and all the upheaval subsided, I thought that maybe things can be quiet for awhile. NOPE. Dad not only has developed early macular degeneration, but if he doesn’t start taking care of himself, will wind up doing dialysis in a couple of years. My #2 brother is having some health problems as well. Pray that these things remain minor. …please, God…
• TJ has a new job. Sounds good so far.
• In SFO news, I am being pushed to select a mentor. It’s hard. How do you pick when you see some of these people only once a month? The ones I would pick have some big things going on, so I don’t want to add to their chaos. I shall have to really reflect on that.
• Friends from the sponsoring fraternity have really pushed the charismatic end of things on me lately… come join us, or take this book, or we are to gather and share on Eliza… and because Father Evan is no fool, and because I know several dear friends involved with this, I’m inclined to give this movement the benefit of the doubt. That, however, slowly erodes when one of those dear friends, who is a “believer,” sends me an e-mail saying, “As you already know there is a group of diciples [sic] going to see… ” Tell me, which word bothers you like it did me? Not so much that it’s spelled wrong, but it’s the usage of the word. Disciple. It really bothers me.
• The monsoon season started this week with a nice long rain. More, please.
  
  I’m going to stop here. I am having problems sleeping and I’m actually going to bed at a decent hour tonight—maybe not to sleep, but to rest.

Fish, Fire and a Friar Feast

A Fish Story
No, I'm not talking about fish on Fridays. I'm depressed about our goldfish tank. You see, my father-in-law, as he was taking care of the pets while we were in the Carolinas, thought it would be a nice surprise thing to do if he went and added a fish to our tank to replace the koi we lost a few months back. We only noticed it the day after we got back, which elicited some choice cuss words. It would have been cool except, firstly, he picked the ugliest damn goldfish I have ever seen. We call him/her/it "Bottlenose."

Second, we knew from previous experience that TJ's dad is not especially careful in selecting fish, and we figured we'd have some problems as we had no idea where he got the fish--probably Petco, who are notorious for infected fish (Grrr!!).

Then, finally, last week we noticed "Comet," the one we thought was a feeder goldfish that turned out to be a dang pretty one (brighter orange, longer tail, nice dorsal fin) with personality, had red splotches along his dorsal fin and near his tail--and his fins were shredded. Bottlenose had been picking on Comet, so I figured that's where his fins got shredded. Otherwise, looked it up, figured it was bacterial. Red patches clear up, except for weird, knobby white growths along the shredded dorsal fin. We figure we're on the road to recovery... except I noticed that Comet was "flashing" against the filter intake. But it didn't ring a bell. Yet.

To make a long story short, Bottlenose came to us infected with anchor worms, probably fish lice, and God only knows what else. He was in the tank four days before we got home from NC, and... holy cow.

Anchor worms are REPULSIVE (I'm nauseated at the thought of parasites--I shuddered at a tick on TJ's leg in NC that I removed), and nearly impossible to eradicate once they get a foothold, or headhold, or whatever. Once they start hatching and latching around the gills and mouth, it's pretty much over. The fish suffocates (gills) or starves (mouth), or both. I watched poor Comet suffering, and I apologized to him silently over and over, sorry I didn't trust my gut feeling when I saw him flashing.

Comet died on Friday morning, which really depressed me. My afternoon was spent in a rage as I spotted worms--actually they are crustaceans--on all the other fish, and angrily contemplated the possibility of losing the entire tank. For all of my brother's and my indifferent fish parenting as kids, our fish of several varieties, including goldfish, never never NEVER got parasites--ich and other nice lil diseases, sure--but not parasites. None of TJ's tanks did either. I was pissed! pissed! pissed! on Friday afternoon, all because F-i-L "meant well." Sorry to say: BULLSH*T. TJ told his dad to NEVER do that again.

*sigh*

Needless to say, we're dosing the hell out of the tank--did before Comet died, but too late to save him. Bottlenose isn't looking too hot, with the nasty things sprouting from his face, gills, and fins. "Tiny," the last of the feeders, *seems* to be hanging in there; the damn anchor worms are almost longer than that fish. Our last beautiful orange/black/white koi, Spot, seems to be okay, but he too is flashing and has that sprouting that poor Comet had on his dorsal fin. One anchor worm along his dorsal, none on his face yet.

It pisses me off that we will probably lose the whole tank for one stupid fish we had no say in getting. I know TJ's dad meant well, but damn it all--we'd just gotten the environment stabilized. We could live with the algae blooms that look like hell but don't bother the goldfish, because they eat algae anyway.

I know they are "just" fish, but when we care for the well being of a creature we deliberately obtain, we get attached to them--and to have them decimated for the reasons outlined above...

*goes off, muttering to self, averting gaze from tank at all costs*

Fire On the Mountain
Father Wade Menezes of the Fathers of Mercy (the picture does no justice--*fans self furiously*) was at our parish today; he is of the same order of Father David Wilton who spoke so eloquently yet forcefully at the beginning of Lent in re penance and confession. I was intrigued by the fact that I do believe I spied a cassock and a white lace alb (!) under the vestments. Black shoes, black pants, cassock, alb, and then the white vestments appropriate for the Feast of Corpus Christi. But a cassock and lace!! Now, I was born post-Vatican II, yet I know what it is--and I have never seen a priest wear one until today. I was impressed. And this of a priest only seven years my senior. WOW. But on a day where it's 110... oof... he better drink lots of water.

He also impressive in other areas as well: I didn't think that anyone could out-chant Father Vince at the Basilica, but now I have found someone who puts Fr Vince to shame. I can only describe it as an 'otherworldly' voice. I closed my eyes... he has that talent of modulating his voice and volume to where it seems like it's surrounding you. It was amazing. That is what one of the angels must sound like.

But don't be misled by his chant talents and the face and build worthy of modeling--he had a barnburner of a homily, starting with a talk on the Feast of Corpus Christi and the whole theology of it, backing it up with the sixth chapter of John. He expounded on how Luther never intended to leave the Church, never intended on messing with Marian theology, and would probably cry if he knew that his little movement has produced 23,000 splinter groups in Christianity--and to pray for our separated brethren. He quoted from church fathers such as John Chrysostom and Cyril of Alexandria. He quoted extensively from third and fourth century texts. He challenged all to make a point to do Eucharistic Adoration: "one hour a week!" I was intrigued and interested.

His strong wording (bordering on fiery discourse) ended with "If you go along with gay marriage... abortion... euthanasia... contraception... cloning... eugenics... in this Culture of Death, then you have no right to come up here and receive the Body and Blood of Christ!" By the time he was done, you could hear a pin drop on the carpet. I surreptitiously looked around and saw many sitting bolt upright and looking mighty uncomfortable; however, many were quietly smiling, or bunching a fist and muttering, "YES!" as the lady in front of me did, she and her husband smiling at one another. I just smiled. He hit home, which is his purpose--he wants people uncomfortable. He's winnowing out the weak and the ambivalent. He only pounded on what the Church has preached and taught forever.

I always find it curious that it's always the mission/preaching fathers who do these topics. Every once in awhile I hear a deacon punctuate discourses with these teachings. It's a no-brainer, really: pastors don't touch the topics of sin and hell and all those topics that make people squirm or make people mad, because it's the foofy-cloud God and the pacifist-peacenik Jesus that puts the bread in the basket, so to speak. Poor Father Hoorman, you know he's going to get nailed with complaints after today's Masses.

The fact that Fr Hoorman has the Fathers of Mercy at the parish speaks volumes. He wants his parishioners challenged. He wants them to know that Catholicism is not a passive religion. And I guarantee you that Fr Wade or Fr David will never see the walls of St Paul in Moon Valley, or of St Timothy in Mesa, or parishes like them. Oh, heavens, no.

I would LOVE to see Father Wade (CPM) vs. Father Larry (OFM) in a debate: fiery hardliner vs. peacenik liberal. I would charge admission--it would be great and educational. Think SMACKDOWN!! heh heh...

~~

I was cruising the Internet on some other items on Father Wade, and in that search I found the best technical (as opposed to a general, watered/dumbed-down) explanation to fend off those who think we "worship" Mary and the Saints. From an article on Eucharistic Adoration, he wrote:

"The Blessed Sacrament receives latria: worship due God alone. Whereas the saints and angels receive dulia (veneration) and the Blessed Virgin Mary receives hyper-dulia (the highest of veneration), the Triune Godhead alone receives latria which is “worship” properly speaking (and not veneration). And because the Blessed Sacrament is the Second Person of the Most Holy Trinity—truly Present in His Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity—the Eucharist, too, receives latria."*

I think this is a nice explanation to counter accusations of cookie-worship and idol-worship.

There is a quote Fr Wade used in that same article that I love, from St. Jose María Escrivá, the founder of Opus Dei: “When you approach the tabernacle, remember that He has been awaiting you for 20 centuries.” Try wrapping your brain about that. Wow.

Fabulous Feast of a Friar
To end on an even more positive note, this past Tuesday was St Anthony's Day, yes he of the Lost and Found patronage. I love St Anthony of Padua. I have a chat with him at least once a week. I've done "Tony's Tuesdays" as much as I can, which is a neat novena. Next year I want to do a St Anthony's party.

But St Anthony wasn't just about finding things, he was a fabulous preacher and teacher, and got St Francis' permission to have books and to teach theology, which Francis was against as it went contrary to his ideals of simplicity. He was originally of the Augustinian order, but switched over when he saw the procession of the bodies of the first Franciscan martyrs.

His patronages include, but not limited to: animals, barrenness, faith in the Blessed Sacrament, fishermen, Lisbon, Portugal (where he was born); lost articles, mail (I find this curious!), mariners, Padua, Italy (where he lived); poor people, sailors, seekers of lost articles, sterility, and watermen.




















O gentle and loving St. Anthony, whose heart was ever full of human sympathy, whisper my petition into the ears of the Sweet Infant Jesus, who loved to be folded in your arms, and the gratitude of my heart will ever be yours.
Amen. (Say 13 Paters, Aves, and Glorias)

St. Anthony, performer of miracles, pray for us.


______________________
* from Catholics United for Faith website, "An Answer to A Crisis of Faith: Adoring the Lord in the Year of the Eucharist" by Fr Wade L.J. Menezes, CPM, 2005

In Memoriam

(6/11/1961-5/7/1991)
Happy Birthday! Can't believe you have been gone for fifteen years. We miss you, and know that you and Mom are together again. Pray for us--especially Dad--remaining here below.

Rest in Peace.

Some Thoughts and Then Some Links


It's Official
Well, as of last weekend, I am now a Candidate of the Secular Franciscan Order. I have to say that this last year of my life has been an eye opener and has opened incredible spiritual vistas. I have a long way to go (I have two years to work on it), and I have a definite need for self discipline in terms of my personal prayer life. But that is what Inquiry is all about--that time of discernment, asking oneself, "Is this right for me?" Candidacy is the acknowledgement of the attraction of the Franciscan charism, and taking on the responsibility of that internal "conversion" as addressed in the Gospel--or as the Rule says "Gospel to Life and Life to Gospel."

Which leads me to...
Today's Morning of Recollection with one of the Friars from The Casa.

In our last Meeting, my Fraternity spoke of the Franciscan Family--not just the SFO, but all of the Family of St Francis: the First, Second, and Third Orders. The First Order includes the Order of Friars Minor ("OFM"), OFM-Conventuals, and OFM-Capuchins); second Order is regarding the Poor Clares; the Third Order, which started out as the Brothers and Sisters of Penance, then later split into the Third Order Secular and Third Order Regular. The Third Order Secular is the SFO today. The Third Order Regular (TOR) is distinct from the SFO in that while they are in the secular world, they live a communal life, dedicating themselves to works of mercy; others live in remote places as hermits. A good capsule of history can be found here.

But all of these encapsulate the Franciscan Family within the Church. Unfortunately, the Seculars are kind of the "stepchildren" of the gang, and sometimes the First and Second Orders have treated the Seculars as... how do I say it? Not as important, I suppose. Fortunately for us, Fr. Larry Dolan, OFM, gladly came to speak to us today. He walked in as we were doing the Liturgy of the Hours--this after we had completed the Divine Mercy Chaplet. He smiled broadly, and said he was happy and encouraged that we were doing such prayer.

Instead of a pat speech, this former teacher, onetime pastor, and current director of The Casa read the SFO Rule, plucked out parts, and began a discussion, and highlighting the differences in the Friars' Rule opposed to the SFO Rule. He also had some remarks that made for hard chewing, and then some encouraging things to say about Catholicism as a whole.

Speaking About Catholicism:
On the flights to and from North Carolina, I read a book by The Pope Formerly Known As Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger™ called "Salt of the Earth." Definitely put it on your must-read list. It's worth putting aside the considerable time to read and digest what Papa Ratzi said in this interview with a journalist, including Papa's rebuttal, "I understood your question." I love that man.

Prayer Corner--Add to Your Prayer List
For Deacon Phil Simeone (recovering from successful knee replacement surgery) and Father Alonso de Blas, OFM (who stayed a week at St Joe's due to lymph problems), these two wonderful dedicated servants of God are home and recovering nicely, but can always use a good word or two with God from all;

For the happy repose of the soul of Monsignor Tom, who we know is cradled in His palm;

For the joy and gratitude for FIFTY years of service of Father Evan Howard, OFM; a lovely man and a dedicated Franciscan servant of Christ, and the former (retired) pastor of St Mary's;

For vocations, and for the Diocese's two newly ordained priests, John Greb and John Lankeit (CONGRATULATIONS!), for the new seminarians beginning their studies (two coming from my parish!), and for those who continue their studies, may the Holy Spirit continue to guide and protect them, and have the courage to overcome the increasing secularism in the world;

For all those serving in our Armed Forces; for those who serve in our goverment and all governments throughout the world;

For the renewal of the family;

and for the protection of His Church.

We adore Thee, Our Most Holy Lord, Jesus Christ, in all Thy churches which are in the world, and we bless Thee, because by Thy Holy Cross, Thou hast redeemed the world.

If you would like your intentions posted, email me.

For Your Catholic Browsing Pleasure!
For folks such as Barbara, Mark, and Jennifer, I think it'd be nice to show where I wander off to on the Internet when I'm not dawdling and procrastinating entering into my own blog, paying bills, or spending way too much time playing World of Warcraft.

Some Blogs I Read:

The Curt Jester
Shrine of the Holy Whapping - oh, that I were so clever and witty! Or an ND alum!! <>
Dappled Things
Canticle of Chiara
Whispers in the Loggia

And many many more.

In terms of actual websites, of course there's www.vatican.va, and here we have www.diocesephoenix.org, but tonight I will list some saved to my personal favorites list. I'm a linkaholic, so I won't list every single site... although many I that I have I found through various blogs or wandering for brain food.

Some Websites to Browse:

USCCB - a must have
Catholic Online - and they have a very good forum as well, very informational
The National Fraternity of the Secular Franciscan Order (USA)
St Clare Emerging Fraternity
Five Franciscan Martyrs SFO Region --an excellent resource
Poor Clares of Perpetual Adoration (Black Canyon City, AZ--YAY)
Inside the Vatican
Franciscan Sisters of Christian Charity (Thank you, Mark!)
National Cursillo Center - (I highly recommend making your Cursillo to take Catholic spirituality to the next level- De Colores!)
The Franciscan Experience - a great read

Again, there are many many more, enough to make my hard drive groan because of sheer number. But it's a glimpse of where I go and what I read.

~~

It's getting late, and I serve at early Mass tomorrow. The Lord give you His peace.

Requiescat In Pace: Monsignor Tom Zazella

After a hectic week on the east coast with minimal email access, I finally had a chance while I was in Raleigh-Durham to look, and in my inbox was the simple title: Msgr Tom Zazella, and I knew then what it had to be. I knew also that I would miss all the services here in town. So tonight I shall pray for the repose of the soul of a beloved priest.

Diocesan announcement

NJ Obituary

He was only 62. My stars, that's too young.

Pray for his family and for those he loved. Certainly we here will miss him.

No Wonder the Youth is Disinterested and Disenchanted

Well, it got itself done, the class of catechumens were duly sealed with the Holy Spirit and they are on their way. I can't say that my first foray into sponsoring a teenager was exactly exciting. Niece was appropriately and beautifully dressed (if not a little too maturely), and did the deed, and read her part of the Intentions very well, our little lawyer did.

Bp Olmsted: Be sealed with the Holy Spirit
Niece: Amen (thinking: halfway there!)
Bp Olmsted: Peace be with you.
Niece: and also with you. (now leave me alone forever, and I'm never, ever coming back)

And she said her responses without a shred of sincerity--no surprise for a girl who, in her sterile thank you note to me, ended with, "your interest in the process is very refreshing." Just smacking of insincerity. Ugh. And the whole thing saddened me beyond measure. Her only thought when we got to our pew was that the chrism was going to make her forehead break out. I know she's a teenager, but really... some gravity was appropriate at that time.

We were fortunate to be in the first couple of mobs to go up (90 kids confirmed in this Mass), so I got to people watch. Most kids dressed appropriately, many sponsors did not. How interesting. Also interesting as to how the usually impassive pastor jumped whenever Da Bish even raised an eyebrow... or even the Deacon that came with Da Bish. That Deacon from the Diocese, he made things smooth. Old pro.

Let's talk about really refreshing: Da Bish obviously enjoys administering the Sacrament, it shows on his face and in his movements. His homily also reflected that, once he got past his initial stilted start, he really got into it, but in his quiet and sincere way. He is no showman. He is truly happy in his vocation, and enjoys it immensely. I lurve Da Bish, for this and many other reasons.

To be honest, Niece wasn't the only one disconnected, disdainful, and disinterested. There were plenty in this parish that had some familiar Phoenix power bloc names that were in her boat: too sophisticated to be interested in this whole uncool crap. Most of the kids were somewhere in between: they were OK with it, they accept the teachings, but it really hit no deep chord.

But there were others, some with shy smiles, others with bright and brilliant smiles, whose faces really shined as they replied to Da Bish, "and also with you." Those were the kids who got it, they were the ones who heard the Lord quietly knocking on their inner doors. It was neat to see. You can't stage that.

~~

There were other, less happy things during this Confirmation Mass.

The altar hangings looked like the 3rd grade did them, although it was obvious that an adult did them. Third graders would have done better, methinks. The silly tableau on the altar steps was just... well... silly: candles and posterboard and bright, shiny taffeta. The silk floral swag draped on the Crucifix was all right (although I don't know how really acceptable it is), except that it obscured His face. All these things are to be expected in the maverick post-Vatican II Church in America. Butt-ugly artistic expressions are a way of life--they may be sincere and have the best of intentions, but one only has to look at the new cathedral in Los Angeles to understand what I mean. Ugh.

But the music!!!!! Oh, my God, the music--!!!! *retch*

A friend of mine whoI was in the choir with would have called them "frustrated lounge singers," and that is being kind. Very kind. A lackluster and sloppily dressed choir, a pianist who pounded dramatically on the keys, a drummer who thought he was a solo act, and the lead/cantor who belongs in a hotel bar in a wanna-be Doris Day kind of way. The Hosanna and Alleluia were one of those horrific blues-crossed-with-jazz deals and ol' Doris up there was scat singing... no, she was caterwauling!
Ahhh-lay loooooooooooo hooooooo hoo hoo yoo yyyyyyyyaaaaayyyaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh...!

I fervently wished for earplugs at that point, because it got worse. Much worse.

I kept seeing the Lawrence Welk singers in my head at Communion as the bland tune was sung over and over, with another un-charming scat session by ol' Dumb Dora. So distracting--I could barely concentrate on my wee chat with Da Big Guy. You see, God, it's like this... and, later: Blessed Mother, after witnessing this, intercede for all of us...

The recessional was so secular that I felt it belonged to a high school over-achievers rally instead of a sending forth song in a Catholic Church--"go out and make a difference!"--never mind that for a moment I felt I was at a Baptist revival with people's arms waving and clapping. Having had the honor of being a part of an excellent Catholic parish choir, this made my ears bleed.

But that's not all!

Ushers in shorts and Hawaiian print shirts! An altar server in a red robe and white alb wearing the very Van tennies that were all the rage in 1986! The one next to him wore grubby loosely-laced tennies, again a la 1986. And, for criminy sakes, could some of these kids wash and comb their hair just for today? Some of the parents were just as bad. Shorts again and everywhere. Our family was almost overdressed. And, please, don't get started on the socioeconomic end of things; let's just say that this parish sits in a nice pricey part of town. It's no excuse anyway--I've been to less financially fortunate parishes, and many of them dress MUCH better than this one this past weekend. You are in the Lord's House--act and dress accordingly.

Is it really so hard?

~~

This capped a sad and long journey that has explained to me why the Da Vinci Code is a big deal. In a way, the Church has only itself to blame. The Catechism which is taught is so weak these days that Catholics do not know how to answer questions about their faith, let alone defend attacks against it. That's what Confirmation is about, being ready and willing to defend our faith. But no, we're so worried about how people feel, rather than just teaching the Truth, that the Truth gets lost in the muck and the kumbaya crap.

Case in point was the "retreat" for Candidates, Sponsors and Parents the weekend before last. Things are run by a Suze Orman clone--not that she doesn't have a hell of a load getting 180 kids prepped for confirmation (God save her!), but Holy and Dear Sweet Mother, if there were any more "small group activities," both myself and my sister-in-law were about to puke. It was just too damn cutesy, run too much like a corporate training ice-breaker session, and too much emphasis placed on "feelings" that nobody gained anything from the six hours we sat in the parish center.

So, big deal if a local news guy, who happens to be a parishioner, has a presentation, playing tag team with his wife. It was a space filler and a plug for his little pet project, and a little too late to be preaching social service to a bunch of kids who just wanted to go swimming or go to their friends' houses. I know for a fact that many of those kids didn't do squat, although they were required to do some kind of social service.

Worse, however, was the mangling of the Seven Gifts of the Holy Spirit. How in the hell do you get that screwed up? I keep a holy-card-sized thingy on my computer here, given to me by a dear friend at my own Confirmation 4 years ago. Wisdom, Knowledge, Counsel, Fortitude, Understanding, Piety, Fear of the Lord. Not that hard, huh?
(hmmm.... sounds like a future reflection!)

Well!

Somehow compassion got in there, and awe instead of fear, smooshed wisdom and knowledge together with empathy, and they politically corrected them and watered them down to the point that even my barely-practicing and skeptical sis-in-law was like, "huh?" The adults were scratching their heads and the kids were confused, then bored. It was a waste of time. A very important point in Catechism was diminished by a crummy Powerpoint presentation with a wishy-washy speaker. It's really too bad.

I wish I had attended some of the actual catechism classes, but on the other hand I probably would have found more fodder for my disdain for this whole mess.

When the kids (and adult!) catechumens aren't guided/taught correctly, their facts get muddled. When the facts concerning their faith get muddled, they start to not care because that foundation begins to feel a little unstable. Add to that the lack of reverence within their own parish (in addition to the above, at one of the Confirmation meetings, kids were eating Carl's Jr in the baptistry! And there's more... much more... ugh), plus the uninspiring music... and the parental carelessness... no wonder they tune out.

The Baltimore Catechism sure is looking attractive after what I've witnessed in these last several months. It really is.

Why I love Julie... and her Thought Provoking Posts

Wandering my usual list of blogs, I always try to keep up on Julie on "A Little Pregnant." Today's post was excellent as usual, and an excellent reason why I love reading her opines: sassy, funny, and even if she doesn't agree, she'll at least be fair. Strongly disagree, even, but still be open to the opposing view.

The comments range from "SO archaeic and ridiculous" to "Profoundly out of touch" to "The Catholic church is only going to keep losing members if it doesn't modernize its policies." There are the those who post and say that they're Catholic and then rail against the rules. Well, you know what's up, the Church's stance has never been a secret. Why cry now?

And then there are the tiny minority, like Catholicgirl ("No one should be made to feel shame or doubt for being Catholic, either, but these comments are making me feel like s**t"), the personal attestation by Ktcakes, the "I'm tired of the Catholic bashing" from P, Jennifer's great comment, and the excellent discourse from Arwen, which is really a good read on Julie's comments page for this particular post (wanna teach RCIA?). Otherwise, it's a sad discourse on those who don't really have a good idea of what the Church's stance is on life. It saddened me to the point of commenting.

Like I commented, it's not easy being Catholic... and it isn't for everyone. And Cath-Girl, don't be ashamed, nothing to be ashamed of, hon.

~~

My personal viewpoint is still a little muddled when it comes to assisted reproduction. TJ and I have been trying now for over three years and nothing. Doctors won't really look at me until he gets tested, but these days TJ barely has time to breathe, so nothing has happened yet. I cringe at the thought of forking over the cash just for the hysterosalpingogram to see if anything's blocked (insurance won't cover). And what if it's me? What then?

My ectopic pregnancy almost two years ago scared the daylights out of both of us--it's sobering when a doctor says to me that he may have to remove half of my reproductive system (he thankfully didn't have to, but hoo-boy...). It was in that hounded-by-demons-from-Hell period that I tripped over Julie's blog (and Tertia's, and NakedOvary's, etc) because I was looking up methotrexate and things equally as scary.

MTX is naaaaasty stuff, but it saved me from a potential surgery that probably would have resulted in terrible scarring in all the wrong places if I want a child. I had seen the abnormality in my fallopian tube before the technician did--and there was no heartbeat, just tissue continuing to grow (molar pg?). But I always hear this tiny whisper, what if it had been? And then I remember that it could have killed me if it had gone undetected. And then again... what if...? It was an emotional and physical path of horror.

So I could understand a part of Julie's path... and what keeps me coming is her wicked humor, sparkling snarkfests, and shameless trolling for assvice. And her fairness, forgiveness, and openness. She possesses grace under fire, although the shots are from needles rather than from guns... and she's jumping into the battleground once more, God bless her. Brave lady.

~~

Terrifying events like ectopics makes you consider what is life, and where it starts, and how it starts.

What if I get to the point where I will have to go to a specialist? I'll do it, I think, not for ego but, like any woman headed to that scary one-way street with an unknown end, the whole point is the creation of life, the ardent desire to have that new life, the baby, the positive as opposed to anything negative. It's not a chosen road, not by a long shot. We women (and men) envy the Britneys of the world, able to pop them out with nary a thought or consideration for herself, anyone else, and especially the child itself, the most frustrating thing; we struggle to not scream at her insouciance and her ignorance, and people like her.

Now, if and/or when we get to that exit ramp, it doesn't mean I'll defecate on the teachings of my Church in my pursuit of motherhood. I cringe to say it, but there are some things that I have thought long and hard about, and have actually disagreed with the Church. God gave us brains, after all. However, I will not smear said feces all over the catechism, or the dignity of that ancient faith. As my sister naively put it one time, 2000 years can't exactly be wrong. Put before that the parent religion of Judaism for another millenium or so, and it's pretty hard to dismiss the teachings. It has been pretty consistent.

Like I say, the Church thinks in terms of eons, not in the caprices of societal norms. That is how she survives. Like the commenter Jennifer said, "It is a symptom of the contemporary blight that we think we can read a few lines in a badly written internet news piece and dismiss 2000 years of theology and philosophy with a few glib remarks. " Amen, sister.

EFF-EYE-CEE-TEE-EYE-OH-ENN. Period.

Come on, folks. Or, if you prefer a fancier name, Historical Revisionism.

Because I try to be at least wrist-flick-at-a-fly fair about things, I must confess I read The DaVinci Code. Because the film is going to be released next week, I had to know what all the hullaballoo was all about. And, no, I'm not wasting money to see Tom Hanks play a role he isn't really appropriate for. I mean, who is going to believe Forrest Gump as a Harvard professor of symbology? And Opie as director? Please. Much as I do like both of them, they are overrated.

Anyway, how do I feel about it?

It's a nice piece of FICTION.

What was it we used to put in our notes to friends in school in the eighties to denote something known to not matter? Oh, yes. B. F. D.

Anyone with a smattering knowledge of Christianity, let alone Catholicism, knows that this is a load of codswallop. Yes, Opus Dei does exist. If it were so secret, you wouldn't know about it. And, as a proud ROMAN CATHOLIC, passably versed in Church history, I can say with a fair amount of comfort that there aren't renegade Orders running around and killing people.

The Priory of Sion--or whatever 'secret society' he claims exists--well, if their whole mission was to debunk it's "mortal enemy," I think it would have been a long time ago. Well, you know, the Reformation would have been a prime point in time to let it all out and wreck it all while Catholicism was almost on its knees and the fledgling Protestant churches were unstable.

And, when one digs around, it's no secret that Brown borrowed heavily from other conspiracy theorists (one presented as being heavily used is Holy Blood, Holy Grail by Michael Baigent). He has presented nothing new. There's nothing in the Louvre. Really.

All it's going to do is this:

1. Feed the fires of those who don't like Catholicism (or Christianity in any form), or your daily conspiracy theorists, and/or
2. Further decay the wavering faith of what are referred to Sunday- or Cafeteria-Catholics (or the Protestant equivalent), and/or
3. Stoke the fire of those who believe in His Truth, no matter the Christian splinter to which they belong.

Now, if this book and movie were about the Belly-Lint Adoration Society, Lutherans, Scientology, Hammertoes Anonymous, Mormonism, Islam, Druidism, extreme right cults, extreme left cults, devil worship, World of Warcraft devotees, Wicca, Buddhism, etc., there would be an uproar that would shake the core of the earth. But because it bashes the Catholics specifically, as well as feeding the extreme feminist core, it seems to be OK within society.

Why is that?

And why is it that you're bad if you're Catholic?

~~

I got a chain email earlier this week, and I was slightly amused.

The Da Vinci Code Lie Exposed

The movie "The Da Vinci Code" staring Tom Hanks, directed by Ron Howard will soon be released in the first part of this year. This movie will have the potential to deceive billions of the world's population. The story line attacks the very heart of the Gospel and attempts to destroy the very nature and character of the Lord Jesus Christ as the Son of God. (Why do the heathen rage, and the people imagine a vain thing? The kings of the earth set themselves, and the rulers take counsel together, against the Lord, and against His anointed? Psalm 2:1, 2)

[Removed paragraphs of vitriol]

Oswald Chambers states in his timeless writing My Upmost For His Highest ..."Our calling is not primarily to be holy men and women but to be proclaimers of the Gospel of God. The one all-important thing is that the Gospel of God should be recognized as the abiding reality" Yet we have to ask ourselves today when this abiding reality comes under direct attack who will defend it? The answer can only be that those of us who have been transformed by it's truth for eternity will and must defend it here and now.

Pray that Christian lay people, prayer leaders, writers, pastors, and all those in Christian media outlets will get the message out and expose this deception of hell and reveal the lie this movie will present before it ever hits the theaters.

...Email this on to everyone you know (don't delete, give it feet) and lets expose this lie for what it is because the hour is late and ... much later than we think.

Also for more research on the web a good start would be at a website called "The Da Vinci Code Hoax" as well as other sites exposing this fraud.

This, after I had already read the book. Well, I'm sure I'm not going to Hell just for reading the book. It's a fact that the book has the standard clause, "This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously..." blabbity blah blah blah. Interesting to note that the "fictional" Swiss bank manager is named Andre Vernet, and yet Brown lists an "Andre Vernet" in his acknowledgements at the front of the book. Hmmm.

Everyone seems to have forgotten that the Church and Opus Dei were exonerated by book's end, manipulated by a rich and greedy member of the British Aristocracy. Interesting.

~~

It's an established fact that the post-Crucifixion translations of the Old Testament corresponds with the nearly 2000 year old Dead Sea Scrolls-remarkably so, and then some. Esther seems to have gone on vacation in the Scrolls, but maybe she'll pop up one day. They do dispel the mystery, or lack thereof, there.

Constantine had nothing to do with the compilation of the Bible we read today. Nada, zip, zilch. Here is a nice essay on where he fits in the story. St. Jerome (c.342-420) translated the Old Testament and New Testament into Latin, which the Dead Sea Scrolls prove that he (and subsequent scribes) did a competent job. Please note that CONSTANTINE was DEAD by the time Jerome was born. Again, I repeat, it's a fallacy that Constantine had anything to do with the selections of the various texts. Constantine died in 337. Jerome was born about 342, and the selection of New Testament books was finally settled at the Council of Carthage, 397. These are historical facts. You figure it out.

I tripped across this site looking things up tonight; that'll be a pleasure read for me later.

But as I cruise the 'Net, I notice three groups: people believing that Brown has presented a huge revelation; those who can credibly discredit the assertions in this book; and those who just look at the whole screaming melee and think, "what is the big deal?"

~~

One curious thing that has not been addressed anywhere: the Roman Catholic Church is also called the Holy Mother Church, and referred to with feminine pronouns and possessives. Those men who have the priestly vocation are said to espouse the Church.

Sacred feminine, indeed.

~~

*sigh*

I hate pop culture.

Rejoice, O Mother Church! Exult in glory!
The risen Savior shines upon you!
(From the Exsultet)

To all the newest guests at Christ's table, welcome! Welcome Home!

Tonight adults in the RCIA programs all over the world were welcomed into the Catholic Church at Easter Vigil Masses--some baptized, some confirmed, some received both of these Sacraments, but all received Communion as full members of the Roman Catholic Church. I can't imagine what a huge leap that is for some people, some of the roads that they've had to travel to get where they are tonight. For others it was as natural as breathing. No matter; they're all here, and all warmly embraced.

Congratulations! And WELCOME, WELCOME, WELCOME! God bless you!

~~

As you might figure, I went to Easter Vigil tonight with TJ and my Dad at New Parish. Easter Vigil is lovely, one of the most beautiful liturgies in the Church. It was a lovely Mass, entered into a dim church, and the beautiful lighting of the fire and Easter candle--and the chanting of the Exsultet.

There were a LOT of catechumens there tonight to be confirmed, about 30 adults. It swells my heart knowing there are people seeking His Truth, and finding beauty and peace within the Holy Mother Church.

~~

It was a full house, too. That also made me happy. And I joyfully reaffirmed my baptismal promises tonight:

Do you reject Satan? I do.
And all his works? I do.
And all his empty promises? I do.
Do you believe in God, the Father almighty, Creator of heaven and earth? I do.
Do you believe in Jesus Christ, His only Son, our Lord, Who was born of the Virgin Mary, was crucified, died, and was buried, rose from the dead, and is now seated at the right hand of the Father? I do.
Do you believe in the Holy Spirit, the holy catholic Church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and life everlasting? I do.

~~

It wasn't so long ago that TJ and I were in the Basilica on another lovely evening, but not as spectators, but as participants. TJ got the whole gamut: Baptism, Confirmation, First Communion. I had only the Confirmation part, as I am a cradle Catholic and did have my First Communion back in the Dark Ages. If you've been in the Basilica, then you know how lovely Mass can be there, amongst the stained glass, statuary and the architecture that instinctively made one's eyes move upwards to heaven. Add to it a glorious chorale under that vaulted ceiling, and that sacred moment can make hearts of stone into mush. Even dyed-in-the-wool anti-Catholics marvel over the beauty of the church.

And I get teary-eyed thinking of the enormity of that evening four years ago, and how it's changed my life. Faith is amazing. What a gift!

~~

I was hoping that it wouldn't be the "contemporary" Mass, but it was. I was resigned and focused on the Mass (or trying when the drummer wasn't going nuts), TJ was into it, but my dad was absolutely tuned out. Vatican II pretty much ended his spiritual journey... I can try but I can't make him change. Tonight was to get him out of the house, see something other than the four walls. I think I'll take him to the Tridentine Mass at St Thomas the Apostle when I don't have something on the schedule.

One thing I've noticed this week is that while Dad says he's "out of the fog and into a funk," I invariably see him wistfully gazing at the picture of Mom holding her then-newborn grandson back in 1997. I took that picture, and was delighted when it came out the way it did, capturing Mom at her very best, at her most peaceful. I had told Dad that when I gave #1 brother a copy of that very picture, he had immediately exclaimed, "That's her, that's so Mom." It was also one of the pics chosen for the collage we did. I think I'm going to get an appropriate frame for that instead of what it's in now.

He told me on Friday that he's been thinking about the last forty-nine years... they had been married forty-nine years and almost exactly nine months when she died. Their fiftieth anniversary would have been at the end of June. He ruminated and we talked and I was aware of his sadness as he spoke. The shock is beginning to wear off, I think.

In my own fledgling marriage, forty-nine years seems like forever, unimaginable and something to aspire to. If I lost TJ after four years of marriage I might shrivel up and die... but forty-nine years? How would I handle losing the person I've spent the majority of my lifetime with? My God!

I worry about him, I don't know what to say or do except to be there for him.

~~

May the Morning Star which never sets

find this flame still burning:

Christ, that Morning Star,

who came back from the dead,

and shed his peaceful light on all mankind,

your Son, who lives and reigns for ever and ever. Amen.

(Exsultet, last stanza)

Have a happy and blessed Easter!

Meanderings and Quagmires


It has been two weeks today since Mom died, and I still don't think it's hit me yet. I haven't cried--I've shed tears, but I haven't *really* cried. Maybe I cried myself out in the months, and certainly the week, preceding her death; I have known for a very long time that her time was short, and have wept so much. My only weak time of day is when I am trying to fall asleep. Thursday night, my brain took me down the hall of my parents' house, and I could see is Mom's empty rocking chair, her characteristic red sweater draped on the back... no more Mama. I did cry, but was trying not to wake TJ up. I dozed off sometime after.

Last night, I envisioned her face. Oh, Mama...

I am so grateful that I cannot recall how her face looked at the Visitation/Rosary. Dad decided on the open after we all had seen her. Kim was skillful and really did lovely work; but death is death, and as she was seven days dead, there are things no mortician, no matter the skills, can erase.

Funny, I can recall my poor sister's gaunt face in her coffin 15 years ago, and I had refused to go closer than halfway up the aisle at the mortuary; I cannot for the life of me remember what Mom looked like, and I stood next to the coffin.

God is merciful.

~~

Today is Palm Sunday, and I can't believe it's here already. Next week is Easter. Oh my God.

~~

I'm sponsoring TJ's niece in her confirmation this year. I'm having grave reservations about the whole thing. How does one sponsor a girl who doesn't give a rat's bum, whose heart is hardened, whose mind is inflexible?

I know that it's partly her being the teenage daughter, the only child, of two lawyers--huge entitlement attitude--but I can also understand her disenchantment to a point. Her parish has Suze Orman's little clone running the catechism meetings, with the bane of corporate companies everywhere, the Dreaded and Never Popular "Ice Breaker" being performed on Thursday in the Church proper as part of the "Evening of Prayer"(!!!). The Church being used as a social hall, a quilt over the altar, cruddy and expensive workbooks afraid to use the word "Catholic," references to a feel-good God in a foofy-cloud life, no respect or veneration in the parish--no wonder! She has seen nothing of Her beauty and majesty, this Bride of Christ, and when one can't see that faith that has endured for a millenium, it's hard to bite off on.

She is, for the moment, a liberal crusader: pro-abortion, pro-gay, ardent women's rights advocate. She'll be pro-abortion until she *sees* the effect of what it does, either to the child or to a friend; she's pro-gay because her aunt is a lesbian, and on that score I can hardly blame her; and I'm all right with the women's rights, too, for the most part. But she claims she wants to be a Buddhist, as she's already vegetarian, and blah blah blah. She doesn't really believe God exists... or so she says. Maybe she wants some other religion. "I'm looking into them," she announced haughtily.

I understand she's fifteen going on forty, pushed into a premature sophistication. She's bright and brilliant and privileged and world-traveled. In the top five of her class as a sophomore, already getting letters from various excellent universities, going to hold out for Princeton. She knows what she wants to do with her life, which is wonderful (I wish I had). But I worry about her increasingly reactionary attitudes; the cynicism more appropriate for a bitter, jaded, lonely, drunken old hag in a bar of 46 than for a lovely young woman of not quite sixteen; the elitist attitude she's picked up with the encouragement of her father; and disdain for anyone who hasn't been raised as she has been, riding in the back of a Mercedes like the Queen of England.

It's also hard to sponsor someone who won't really talk to me. It's been true as long as TJ and I have been serious, then engaged, and then through our marriage--about eight years in all. I could chalk up the first years as shyness. I could blame the fact that she and I have not really been allowed to have a full-blown conversation with her in the intervening years--there was always someone around to interrupt, deliberately or not. I can also see the influence of her parents' attitudes of superiority above TJ and I in her, because she has yet to learn how to put that mask on. It's a morass of miscommunication and misunderstanding, exacerbated by an aura of self-importance and materialism encouraged by her parents. We don't wear labels, we don't drive a Mercedes, therefore we are peasants and unworthy of her consideration.

I want to take her to task; for example, I want to ask her which countries are Buddhist and/or have Buddhist factions, then ask her how these countries/cultures treat their women in light of her ardent women's lib position. It's not meant as a disrespect to Buddhists/Buddhism; rather, I want to point out with that example her hypocrisy and bigotry in holding the Catholic Church to a standard she won't apply to any other religion. And Buddhism isn't the only one she's "considering," remember.

But it's the parents, too. Mom would never step foot in the Church if it weren't for Niece; Father is a little better, but rationalizes his faith with scraps of history--little solace, to my way of thinking. Here's an example, though, of how little the trio as a whole regard their faith:

Niece calls up her mother from a Kumbaya-type Confirmation retreat (*shiver*--I sympathize!), and the first words out of her mouth are, "You owe me." So her mother is going to buy her a new pair of Abercrombie jeans to make up for her unhappiness with the retreat.

No positive spin, no "are you sure you haven't taken something away from it?" No. Just, "OK, we'll go to the mall this week." And, in this case, I don't blame Niece; I blame the parents for thinking that material things will solve the problem. They are, essentially, buying her off. What are they teaching her? I think it's frightening.

In a similar vein, the other night for the Evening of Prayer: they (honestly) forgot, didn't show, but offered to make up for it by buying dinner after tonight's Rite of Enrollment. My annoyance isn't really with crossing the Valley and being stood up, it's the idea that buying dinner will solve the bigger problem. It's a bad system, and it's creating a monster.

I pray about this a lot. I believe in the Franciscan mantra of preaching the Gospel at all times, and speaking if I have to. Should I speak? Or should I keep silent and let God work in His way? I can, and do, pray that she will allow the Holy Spirit to move in her life. I want to tell her, swearing on my mother's all-too-recent grave, that yes indeed there is a God, and he is a great God.

I think I'm hoping that what I read on various Catholic forums will come to pass for her: having moved away from, or even rejected, the Holy Mother Church, that she will wander from place to place and, after time, come home, joyfully, realizing that this faith is true and a real home, a real comfort, and feel His Real Presence.

~~

The interviews for Candidacy happened last weekend as I was burying my mother. So, that will be postponed. I have questions to ponder.

As a fellow inquirer told me, "Incidentally, I spoke with one of the ladies that is going through Candidacy one afternoon, and she said that when we go for the Interview, we should not go too far to the right or left and give brief answers... Just honest and truthful answers are what they want, no doubt." I'm not sure why this bothers me, though it is good advice. I can see it now:

Council Member: "What do you expect from the SFO?"

Me: <mystified> "Uhhhh, love. Peace. Yeah, peace and love. Pax et bonum, right? Peace, love, prayer, guidance... I guess."

Not that the prep questions are that off-kilter--they're right along the one in the exchange above. It what's not on that sheet that mystifies me. I'm not a good off-the-cuff question answerer (love that grammar).

It's time for some soul searching. Short, concise answers that stay to the center. Right.

~~

I will purge more about Mom and her funeral in the days to come. It was very interesting, as well as there being some incidents of incredible kindness and generosity and some supernatural moments that blew everyone's mind. Funeral planning in itself is an education.

Keep Dad in your prayers... he's concerned because it really hasn't hit him yet, but it will. He's still in shock, still in that numb state that main caretakers tend to be in as a protection against their emotions. He told me Friday that it's the first day he's felt like he's not in a fog, so I think it's coming.

Pray for Niece, that her heart and mind will be opened.

Pray for this world, which seems to be going to Hell in a handbasket.

Her Children Rise Up and Call Her Blessed.


I had a post all lined out last night, lamenting about my poor mother, who a week ago we placed in hospice. It has been a terrible, draining, long week. End-stage cirrhosis with hepatorenal syndrome, is what happened; once the hepatorenal aspect starts and is diagnosed, the mean prognosis is two weeks, usually less. She was in a lovely facility with a God-sent staff, a group of loving, compassionate people. I can't speak highly enough of the staff at Banner Gardens Hospice House. I pray that God blesses these loving servants of the afflicted.

This whole week--Sunday to Sunday--was an exhausting blur.

I was there every day. While she was still lucid, she was rather feisty, but I now understand that to be a product of her incredible resolve to live. It wasn't until she was taken off of her medications and was strictly on what are called "comfort medications" that any of us had any concept of how much pain she'd been concealing from us. When the nurses have to medicate anyone four times in a night, and the attending nurse marveling that it's "a lot," it revealed how much pain she was in, pain she never let us see. And only then had we realized that she had been living in physical hell.

Mom had been sedated for the last four days. Due to the toxins in her body, it made her restless and combative, on top of confused. It was to prevent her from hurting herself against the railings with her gossamer skin, or falling. Her last semi-lucid day was Wednesday (as she had been slightly doped), she had called Dad to say that if he didn't come and take her home, she was going to walk every step.

She knew where she was and why, but her coping mechanism was to insist that this was just a setback; she walked up and down the hall on Tuesday, determined to prove she was coming home. That took so much out of her, but that was Mom. She also said some harsh things that I know that I cannot take personally--especially now that we know just how much pain she was in. I also know, thanks to Susan, why this was: not only did she want to live, she didn't want to leave Dad, leave me, leave her life. She wasn't done yet, still so much to do.

This morning, I was wide awake at six, showered and dressed as I was to serve at Mass at 12:30. I headed out on the long drive to east Mesa. I got there at 7:30 AM.

It is said that the auditory functions are the last to go, and so I talked to Mom.

She looked so battered, frail and wasted, struggling for each shallow breath, the horrendous bruises that came with the IVs and blood draws stark against her skin.

I didn't weep, but my tears dripped on her bedlinens. I said that I'm sorry, it wasn't supposed to be this way; you were supposed to live to 100; I know that you still want to do things. But... Mama... it's over. It's time.

And it's OK for you to go. There are so many waiting joyfully for you, I said, and said their names: Aunt Janet and Uncle John, Uncle Bill, Aunt Nancy and Uncle Ross, my sisters Roberta and Margaret, her mother, and the beloved father she never got over losing when she was 12.

Mama, I said, of course I don't want you to go, none of us do, but it's time--you're body is giving out on you, there's too much pain, it's OK, I love you. Go to where there's no more piles of medications, no more ascites drains, no more transfusions; no more having to hide the horrendous pain.

We all love you, we understand, it's OK to go. I love you, Mama.

Then I read from the red prayer book with the Offices in it; parts of the Office of the Dead; and the morning prayers for the Fourth Sunday of Lent.

As I stroked her head before I left, it struck me how much of her hair is still dark at the age of 69. Still thick, still lovely, with the distinctive greying streaks. She had aged gracefully, and still retained much of her good looks even in the ravages of the last three years.

Mama, I said, thank you for being *my* mother. I love you, Mom.

And I kissed her forehead, saying goodbye.

I wept stormily as I drove to Starbucks. Oh, Mama...
I begged my late beloved godmother--Nancy, who had come to me in spirit as I had keened at her passing to let me know she was OK--to please go to Mom, please tell her there's nothing to be afraid of, tell her from where you are that it's OK.

I wandered from place to place, lost like the orphan I knew I was to become too soon. While I love my father, my mother was my friend. I was blessed in that regard. So in a way, when she goes, I will be alone. Who can I wander through the Home Depot garden department aimlessly with? Who will I concoct parties with, discuss recipes with? Who will I be able to ask advice from?

Without Mama, who's going to love me? What's going to become of me when I don't have you to love me?

I got to Church an hour too early. I signed in on the EMHC board, tried to go through the gift shop, and couldn't take the people. Kurt at the office let me in to go through the Franciscan library that Fr Hoorman keeps. I was trying to keep my brain busy.

Deacon Phil poked his head in and he sat with me as he waited for his appointment to show. He and his wife know what's been happening, and earlier this week I had sent them an email with a heartfelt cry, my soul disturbed. He asked me, "Are you ready to let her go?" I replied yeah, but I don't want her to go... but that she's fought the fight and it's OK.

"Did you tell her that?"

A strange kind of relief washed over me as I said yes, I have, and I recounted my half-hour with Mom this morning. I fought tears as I sketched for him the hell of this past week, and it felt good to say something to someone who isn't intimately involved with the drama.

When his appointment showed up, I wandered to the shrine of St Anthony within the Church proper, Anthony, my best friend in recent months. I implored him to help, to help Mom understand it's OK to go, help this lost soul. But it was at the shrine to Our Lady of Perpetual Help that I wept. Oh, Blessed Mother... please let her know it's OK, and please intercede with your beloved Son for her faults, for His forgiveness--dear God, Mom's done her Purgatory in this living hell; please release her and hold her in Your loving arms...

By the time Mass started I was a wreck. TJ met me there, and I cried silently on his shoulder. I could not keep the tears back, even as I offered His Body. All I could do is pray for Mom's release. At my meeting with Father Jeff my brain was wiped. So much for picking music.

I went home for awhile, and then went to Dad's to start on the draft of her obit. God, save me: I have dreaded this task.

Today at 4:15 PM, the phone call came, and there was the sad but not unexpected news: she passed at about 4:10. Mama is now seeing the face of God. I have no reason to doubt otherwise. Kind, maternal, generous Mama...

Dad and the boys went ahead as TJ picked me up. She was on the bed, arms crossed, her ravaged face peaceful. "Oh, Mama... " and as I looked at her, thinking of arrangements, "nobody needs to see you this way, they don't need to remember you this way..." Daddy held me for awhile as I cried tiredly. Even poor TJ wept. "I love your mother," he said on the way home.

It's not every woman whose husbands characterize them as "a great lady." And it's the rare woman whose sons-in-law love her as their own mother. And I love my mother... God, I'm going to miss her.

Eternal rest grant unto her, O Lord.
And let perpetual light shine upon her.
May she rest in peace, Amen.
May her soul and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace, Amen.