Death

 No cliffhanger here, it's just what's been going on here in my world.  Changes are needed at times and then sometimes they are hard to endure.  I am definitely a creature of habit and sameness, anything out of the ordinary can rock my little world.

Two years and nine months ago, I lost my mom, she was 90 and it was amazing that she lived as long as she did, but she was afraid to die, it was her fear and will that kept her going.  I knew that because she told me a few years back and in June prior to her death, I was visiting her and took her shopping for a wheelchair and she wanted to get a good one because, in her words, "Just in case something happens to be, I can give it to your brother."  She was 90 and she couldn't even say the word much less embrace that reality.

One year and 2 months ago, I lost my dad. It was horrible and the guilt is still real in my gut.  Not to go into any details, I learned a lot about the medical profession full of young people and that they aren't too crazy about old OLD people at all, my dad was 93.

Two days ago, I lost my 18-year-old orange tabby, Lolek.  He was my good little boy who loved to sit with me in the sewing room or rub on me while I made puzzles on the computer.  He was my favorite and I loved him like none other.  Again, the experience: realizing he was suffering and biologically shutting down, but very uncomfortable in the process, I had to take him to a Vet hospital early in the morning and make the decision to put him down.  He hated the crate ride there and then being IV'd threw him in a tizzy.  I loved on him to calm him down while they gave him the sedative.  I couldn't watch anymore of the process.

One thing I know from all three of these deaths is that, as one of the doctors on my dad's team said, "We have been dying for thousands of years, and still, we don't know how to do it well."

Grief is a tricky thing, at first it is the gut punch, then just the sadness and triggers.  Someone told me that the first year is hard, but the second one is harder.  Basically, because you realize that the lost loved one is never coming back and life has to go on without them.  That reality has a sting of its own, and it lasts a very long time, if not forever.

Hearing God's will in a busy brain....

 The Will of the Father.

Lately I've been wondering what is next for my husband and I now that the kids are all grown and starting their own families and lives.  All of them are at least 45 minutes to 2 hours away, so that even babysitting or just getting together has to be a planned event.  I long for them and our grandbabies to be closer, but alas it is not to be.  At least they are close enough to visit frequently.

The will of God.  We have been talking about moving into a smaller home and downsizing all our stuff.  What a chore that will be as we have lived in this house for 23 years and started off with 3 kids.  Lots and lots of stuff.  Then when my mother moved to an assisted living, she sent me a lot of her stuff from her condo.  China, boxes and boxes of hers, her mother's and her grandmother's china.....  No one wants china  anymore   Anyway, we have lots of stuff from both our parents' homes that our children didn't want or have room for, so now we have to rid ourselves of this stuff and of our own stuff too. 

When my father died this past April, it was a sudden event that no one was ready for, including my dad.  So when he was in the hospital with a brain bleed, frail, and basically hopeless, I had to start getting his apartment emptied.  My older brother called 1-800-Junkguys.  They came and took all my dad's stuff away, except a few things that my brother and I wanted.  It was sad, I have dad's rocking chair, lamp, and most of his writings, my brother took most of his paintings and a mantle clock.  But most of his stuff, his clothes, furniture, trinkets, shaver, food, prescriptions, computer, kitchen table, dishes, pens, and shoes were taken to the dump. Sigh.

Now we are the oldest generation, the top tier, next to go group.  We have so much acquired stuff that needs to be dealt with now or later but has to be dealt with.  When my husband and I prayed the other night, I added a prayer for God to show us his will for our next move.  We said amen, then my husband looked at me as said, "It's what WE want to do."  I corrected him and said, "God's will is what we want, it will be the best for us."  He said, "Alright."  God's will IS the best for us, I just cannot hear what it is, and I'm so frustrated about it.

God, please help us know what to do next.  Please give us guidance whether to move, where to move, when to move.  Help us hear your will....my brain is always so busy that it seems to drown out your voice...your whispers.  I only want to hear from you for our next phase of life.

I'm Just Finished

 To everyone who knows me, the first half of this year was hard for me and my dad. I think about him and his last several months of life every day.

--He struggled to walk, keep his scooter running, caring for his beloved dog, Rocky.

--He called me every day wanting me to decipher a note he couldn't read because he couldn't control his hands anymore.

--He lost his wallet, keys, his scooter quit working, he had no money.

I was 12 hours away trying to keep his world running, sending him cash, fighting the VA to approve in home nursing, finding someone to repair his scooter, making sure the VA knew he would be coming for a dr. visit without money or an ID, so could someone watch out for him?

Finally falling on Easter Sunday night, his nightmare really began. In the month of April, I spent nearly 40 hours on the road to Nashville, TN caring for him in the hospital and then finally in the legal euthanization facility where he was put to sleep in 2 days.

All this to say, I'm not mad, I'm done. I'm just done dealing with situations that rob me of my peace. I'm done with dealing with people that don't respect me, my hobbies, my volunteering, my age, whatever..... I'm done. I'm done dealing with people that don't respect me. I have put my best foot forward during these past few months toward everyone, but that's it. What I have given, I leave at the table. I don't care, that's it. I'm not mad, I'm not angry,

I'm Just finished.

Fr. Chad Ripperger's Prayer for the Election

 CONSECRATION OF THE ELECTION TO THE BLESSED VIRGIN MARY

 Mary Immaculate, living tabernacle of the Divinity, where the eternal Wisdom lies hidden to be adored and served by angels and men, Queen of heaven and of earth, beneath whose sway are subject all things that are lower than God, Patroness of the United States of America, sorrowful and mindful of our own sinfulness and the sins of our nation, we come to thee, our refuge and hope. 

Knowing that our country cannot be saved by our own works and mindful of how much our nation has departed from the ways of thy Son, we humbly ask that thou wouldst turn thine eyes upon our country to bring about its conversion. 

We consecrate to thee the integrity of the upcoming election and its outcome, so that what is spiritually and morally best for the citizens of our country may be accomplished, and that all of those who are elected would govern according to the spiritual and moral principles which will bring our nation into conformity with the teachings of thy Son. 

Give grace to the citizens of this land so that they will choose leaders according to the Sacred Heart of thy Son, that His glory may be made manifest, lest we be given the leaders we deserve. 

Trusting in the providential care of God the Father and thy maternal care, we have perfect confidence that thou wilst take care of us and will not leave us forsaken. 

O Mary Immaculate, pray for us. Amen

The Girl in a War continues then and an update 2024

December 2019
As this young woman's mother, I struggle with the deep maternal need to fix her with my loving concern, ability to listen to her, nurture her, and be present for her when she needs to talk.  Oh, this all sounds so easy, right?  In reality, my daughter wants none of this.... absolutely none of it...from me.  These things do not help her, not now at least.  She goes through therapist after therapist, psychiatrist after psychiatrist over the past five years, there have been a handful that have, in her words, done nothing for her.

From her own words she describes to a potential new therapist how she has suffered over these years. 

Good morning, my name is _____.

I have been struggling for several years now with depression and some OCD symptoms. I have seen counselors here and there in the past, none of which I felt helped me very much. Recently things have taken a turn for the worse for me, mentally and emotionally, and I know that I can't do it alone anymore and I need to get myself help. I have been looking into different providers and your profile stood out to me. I wanted to reach out to you to get more information about your practice and treatments. Thank you and I hope to hear from you soon.

______

September 2024

The Girl in the War still struggles, but she has done a good deal of growing up.  She's a mother, a wife, and expecting another sweet soul in March 2025.  She calls me just to talk saying, "I called you because sometimes I want to talk to just you without Anthony messing with the phone."  She's a banker, and a smart one too.  She's a 2 meds to help her with her depression and emotions and tells me she feels better on these meds.  There have been many different combinations through the years.

This picture is the very moment she met her son, I was her labor partner as she was a single mom, and below is this gift that helped to keep her planted on this earth.  She has a purpose now and the whole family is thrilled with this little guy.

We all are in a war at one point or another, I know I have been in one for most of my years.  Count our blessings and know that we are never alone as our guardian angel is always with us and our Lord is looking out for us as long as we know he is our God.

I count my blessings in my daughter, grandson, and her new little family and know in my heart that Jesus has a purpose for her, and she will find it.

 

Losing My Parents a Year and a Half Apart

Looking at the world today.  In restaurants, families all siting around on their individual phones.  No one talking, visiting, pay attention to the others, much less looking at each other.  How many opportunities missed with those near us.

Recently, I lost my dad, he was 93 and mentally full of life, physically, not so much.  He began falling more over the past year and a half.  He wouldn't tell anyone.  At one point, his doctor called me with him in her office and asked if he had told me about a fall he had.  They know that I live 11 hours away from him, so she was hoping that he would at least tell his daughter about it.  I couldn't help her, he stopped telling me about his falls months ago.  He refused to downsize and move into assisted living, he refused to move closer to me, he was a man of his own and wanted to stay that way.  I begged him, found nice and affordable places for him near me, alas, in vain.  I told my husband once that my dad will do out like Elijah, in a fiery chariot of modern times. 

He did.

He fell in his bathroom on Easter Sunday night and during the next 20 days, I traveled 38 hours back and forth to Nashville, TN to care for him in the hospital and clean out his apartment at the end. By this time, my dad had been living on his own for way too long and had no strength in his worn-out frame to muster any healing from the brain bleed and then the femur bone break that happened in the rehab hospital.  Evidently, he was an aspiration risk back at the intensive care unit and the medical professionals recommended he go to hospice.  I fought that for 2 days asking that he go to skilled nursing first and heal there.  He was so sweet and happy that my brother and I were there for him. He kept telling me that he loved me and was so happy that I was there to care for him.  He kept asking where he was going next, what was the plan.  I had planned on moving him closer to me and found an assisted living place for him and Rocky, his dog.  The hospital personnel gave me no choice but hospice.  Hospice, the dreaded option.  Finally, after my brother said it was the best, I signed him over.  They transferred him at 2:30 pm on Friday, April 19, 2024.  My husband and I still had dad's apartment to deal with, so we went there and worked on getting it cleaned out.  We finally got back to dad in his new location, the hospice facility.  It was dark, quiet, sterile.  Dad was dozing.  I went to find a "nurse" to find out how dad was and what the plan was.  She showed up and I told her that his hands and arms were swelling and needed attention.  She simply said, "Oh, we won't be concerned about that."  I was shocked and said, "What?"  Quickly, she said, "We can put some pillows to prop them    up."  I never saw any pillows.  Anyway, luckily, he wasn't too drugged.  I said hi to him and he woke and he was partially sitting up.  He was in a new gown and covered sufficiently.  The room was warm with the TV on low.  I stood next to him and asked him how he was.  He looked at me and said, "I don't like this place." "But Dad, it's quiet here, you aren't hooked up with anything, you can get some rest and heal your leg."  He mumbled something away from me and all I could get was ...tomorrow."  He turned back to me and gave me the biggest smile..teethy and sweetly...  I looked at him and moved by all he has been through told him I loved him.  He said he loved me too.  He asked me if I remembered when I needed his help and that he did help me, "Didn't I?"  "Yes, you did, yes you did help me." I love you, Dad"  "I love you too." he said.  "Do you think Biden will win this election?" "Oh, I don't know, Dad, I really don't know." shaking my head. Only until weeks after, did I realize that he was scared and trying to make conversation. Damn! why couldn't I have stayed with him longer and talked politics with him....one more time.  Oh, Dad, I'm so sorry!  We left after a while, he started to doze and I was tired and would see him in the morning before we left to drive 11 hours back home.  

In the morning, I arrived to see dad and he was in a deep sleep with his mouth wide open breathing heavily...Oh NO!!  Not Dad!!  A nurse showed up and I said to her, "Well, you have him all drugged up so I can't talk to him."  She coldly responded, "He was in pain, did you want him in pain?" "No, but there could have been a happy medium!"  She walked away.  I tried to talk to him for a few minutes and realizing it was no use, I sang him the same song I sang mom before she died the day after I left her.  The Winnie the Pooh song....I sang it the best I could for him, hoping he could hear me and the love that I had for him.  I then reached into my purse for my holy water bottle and spraying his face and chest with it.  I left....never to see him again.  The next night he was gone, 6:40 pm CST April 21, 2024.  Will I ever be able to forget this and feel good about it?  NO.

We lost mom a year and a half ago, she was 90 and riddled with both types of arthritis along with gut issues. Basically, mom's body was her enemy her whole adult life with ulcers, arthritis, and emotional issues.  We think she was bi-polar; she was up all the world was right, but when she was down, stay in your room and keep quiet.  She kept our home spotless, and she was a good cook, too.  She loved us and she was great at making our favorite meals, baking us birthday cakes and making sure we were ok.  Dad left her for another woman in 1981, just in time for her to see the three of us leave the nest and the change of life hit her.  She was alone in a big house with grown kids getting involved in their own lives and not seeing what she was going through.  Twenty-six years down the drain.  Luckily, she had worked her way up the banking latter and was doing pretty well as a branch manager.  But not right away during the divorce.  She said nothing, how did she do that?

When I married, we moved away from mom.  That was so hard, I cried for the first few months.  Mom never complained that we left and thought my husband hung the moon.  She seemed happy that I was settled with a good man and my own family. Later she told me that after work, instead of going straight home, she would go to Wendy's and get a coke and French fries and just sit and basically cry.  Now when I think of that, I wish I had been there for her, sat with her and ate French fries with her....and cried. During her years along, which spanned 40 years, she struggled with her health.  She sold the house and bought an upstairs condo and decorated it in all her favorite colors.

We cannot look at life and laugh in the face of fate.  We cannot look at the future as if it's ours for the taking. We were never promised a future, much less tomorrow, never.

Sandwiches

It's tough, really tough when you are caught between two generations and being in another generation with your own stuff to deal with.  No, I'm not talking about eating sandwiches, though it would be nice to sit by a big oak tree, eating a favorite sandwich with no cares in the world.  That is not what I'm talking about at all.

You see, if you have been around the "Pillars" at all, you will see that generations have had their turn, turning this girl on her head.  Life sandwiches, people sandwiches, loved ones sandwiches, those people that God put in your life to care, love, and want to throw the pickle from your favorite sandwich at.  

Years ago, I was told that we are given the parents we had for a reason, to grow us, strengthen us, or learn from.  I agree, and we do not know what that purpose is until we are looking backward, 20/20 vision.  Maybe, maybe not, I don't know really.  Since I am a parent of grown children, what are they looking back at?  What did they learn, grow from, or get stronger with me at the helm?  My husband doesn't think deeply into such things, so I'm on my own...as usual, to think up things to wonder about. I'm not really worried about my kids, they all seem to be figuring it all out for themselves, but I do wonder what I gave them, what WE gave them.

We went to Mass every Sunday and holy days, we prayed the meal blessing, I taught them about Jesus, forgiveness, and I showed them how committed I am to the Catholic faith.  Two of the three are Catholic and I guess that's pretty good odds.

.

Watching my mom die less than a year ago was depressing and such a loss in my life.  I miss her terribly since she was my sounding board where my dad was concerned.  He divorced her 40 years ago for a younger woman who divorced him 10 years and 2 kids later.  What goes around, comes around, yes?  My mom never remarried and remained married in the Church to my father.  She also stayed engaged with our families where my dad did not.  He was always living off somewhere and enjoying his friends.

Now my dad is gone, he died alone in a hospice facility three weeks ago.  A couple of his friends visited him the day he died and were able to speak to him and perhaps he heard them and was comforted.  I was there the day before, but with me living so far away, I had to go home sometime. I was with him for 5 days at the hospital.   I now have regret that I didn't do enough for him, ask questions to the medical professionals caring for him, I was his POA and needed to be his mediator.  Hindsight is always 20/20.  He was 93 and had fallen twice and had a brain bleed, broken femur and heart issues, so he was in bad shape.  Mom was 90 when she died, she was ready, her arthritis pain from 90% of her body was tiring and she wasn't able to do anything for herself.  She fought a tough battle for as long as I can remember.

Now the sandwich generation is only an open faced one.  It's quiet and gloomy, dark and empty basically.  My life was full of weekly conversations with both my parents, good or bad, I talked to both my parents weekly.  Now I find myself sitting in adoration listening to their voicemails.  Mom left me the gift of her voice...finally.  She used to never leave messages, but at the end she was leaving them all the time.

We live in a very transient society.  Kids go away to college states or countries away from family.  Jobs or found and they stay away and begin their lives far from parents, siblings, extended family members.  The family no longer is what it used to be, and the support and relationships are as endearing as they were a few generations ago.   That is sad.  I wish and pray that people start seeing that and want to make a change.  I pray for the family unit to be cherished again and needed again.

CABRINI

Beyond me to speak about a woman, a stranger in a new and vast country, making her mission known and a reality, in a man's world.  But I'm going to.  

My mother, we lost her over a year ago and I miss her terribly, was a banker.  She went from a housewife to a teller and worked her way up the ladder to become a branch manager of a credit union in Birmingham, Alabama in the late 70's.  She would tell me that she had to "work 3 times harder than a man does to break even in this man's world."  She believed it wholeheartedly, too.  I also had a taste of that reality in a few of my jobs, but my mother was a fighter with Irish blood in her veins and rose to heights I was in awe of

Now for St. Mother Cabrini.  Some, I've heard complained that there was no mention of God in the movie, I thought it was all OVER the movie in every word she spoke, every child she hugged, every tear she shed, and every ounce of love she had for her people and the children.  The fact that she never spoke of God when being confronted with the evil of the authorities, mayors, senators, magistrates, bishops, and cardinals and even the Pope has a simple yet real bane fact:  she was always confronted by men.  Men in those days and even in these days in high places did not relate to a female, much less one religious thumping a Bible.  No, no, they had their own deity, and it was not the Creator of our world, our Almighty God!  She had to related to them on their level and goodness gracious, she did!!  As the mayor said to her, "Too bad you are a woman, you'd make a good man."  Of course I won't give away her response, but it was succinct and as good as any Rhett Butler's.

 “If the mission of announcing the Lord’s resurrection to his apostles had been entrusted to Mary Magdalene, it would seem a very good thing to confide to other women an evangelizing mission.”

Time after time, Mother Cabrini found herself at an impasse, but quick on her feet she made her points into unavoidable positions that could not be ignored.  She knew that starting a mission, the funding would come.  At one point she said, “If the mission of announcing the Lord’s resurrection to his apostles had been entrusted to Mary Magdalene, it would seem a very good thing to confide to other women an evangelizing mission.”  The movie could very well have put skin on Mother Cabrini again and show the world what one woman could do to change the world.  She made a huge impact in the world with all the many missions/hospitals/schools/orphanages she started all over the world.  She had to have changed lives, not only the children, but the men she had to press and press for help and support.  St. Cabrini made history as a woman who was determined, strong-willed, and stubborn.  My youngest daughter is a very strong willed, stubborn individual as a young adult now.  I know what that looks like.

The movie was approved by a few priests that I respect, one Fr. Chad Ripperger, and Fr. Mike Schmidt (Fr. Mike Schmitz Reviews "Cabrini" Movie (youtube.com) among others.  Always concerned at what Hollywood would do, especially to a religious centered movie of the Catholic persuasion, I decided to go after hearing Fr. Ripperger recommend us watch it.  I went with a few of the ladies in my prayer group, I am the token Catholic, but they have accepted me as their sister in Christ. They all loved it as much as I did, of course, I was enjoying the views of the Vatican, Rome, all the religious garb and Swiss guard that are all timeless.  As a Catholic, I am proud to be part of the same faith that St. Cabrini was driven by.  Every turn she made, was Catholic, Christian, and God-guided.  Please run don't walk to see this movie, hopefully you can get popcorn free, but only if the theatre is running a promotion....  

WOW!!!!!!

 https://youtu.be/KqJt0MVBBIQ

A Letter to My Mom

 Dear Mom,                                                                                                                        6/30/2023

    It's been several months now since we talked.  Even the last time we were together, we were not able to have a conversation, much less much of a visit.  There have been so many times that I want to pick up the phone and talk to you.  Tell you something about the kids, what Karl was up to, or what little Anthony was doing.  How he makes us laugh...I wish you could have met him.  I wish you could have met all my grandchildren, we have 4 now.  Rebecca had her third a month ago at home with her midwife and all went perfectly well.  Little Martin was 10 lbs 12 oz.  crazy, I know.

    Missing you and wishing I could talk to you, hear your voice, not just the voicemails I've kept to listen to, but your voice, in person. At the same time though, I don't want you to still be at that nursing home, miserable and trapped.  I would want you to be back in your condo enjoying a warm bath every night, watching TV in your middle bedroom and enjoying your own food.  I would want you to have your little red Toyota corolla outside waiting for you to get out in the morning to Mass or to the grocery store.  So, I guess, as they say, you are in a better place.  Wherever that is.  However that is, with Our Lord, Jesus.

    Not knowing what that is exactly like, I wish I knew that you are alright and happy.  My friends all say, "You know where your mom is!  She's in Heaven!"  I know that, I pray for that, but what is that and how is that place?  Are you happy, Mom?  Are you Okay, Mom?

    We have lost so many relatives throughout the years and I mourned their absence in our lives.  But I have never lost anyone so close to me as you.  You are my mom, my mother who gave birth to me and raised me, who knows me through and through.  I worry about you, miss you, and pine for your presence to tell me what happened to you now.  I still need advice, since I haven't figured out life yet and need your input.  Basically, just to call and talk to you, make you laugh, or just give you some good news about the kids or Doug.  Just to chat for a few minutes.

Anyway, I've kept you long enough and I've rattled on without making much sense.  I love you mom, and you will always be my mom.  I sing Anthony that song and now think of you and your smile as I sang it to you.  Everyday, I think of you, everyday I want to pick up the phone and tell you something, everyday, I feel that part of being your daughter sighs at your absence.  I pray for you everyday and hope that you are alright, safe, and happy.

Love always,

Liz

Silence

 In today's homily at Mass, Fr. talked about being quiet. How hard is that? It is hard since we have cellphones that play music, podcasts, read books to us, talk to friends and relatives, give us the latest weather report and news. In my sewing room, I often listen to a book or a podcast (LaVar Reads is my favorite), but recently, I have been turning off all noise, opening a window and just listen to the birds, or breeze through the trees. Maybe, just maybe our Lord has something to tell me.

Mom, Part 2

 

Where do I begin here talking about my mom's funeral, or Mass of the Resurrection for the woman that has been in my life as a force to be reckoned with since my birth.  My mom was 2nd generation born American from Irish Catholic parents. She was the last of 6 children. I don't think mom was spoiled or pampered at all as the youngest, she would say that she had to learn to cook at age five.  My grandfather was a frontline foreman with the Erie Railroad and retired after 48 years of service.  My grandmother was a housewife.  They had an Aunt Minnie that lived with the family for years helping out with laundry and mending.  I remember visiting her in the old folk's home, she was a whisp of a thing in white sheets and a blanket. 

Anyway, mom raised us Roman Catholic.  Dad was a methodist when they married, but when I was born, he decided to convert.  We attended Mass every Sunday and even on vacation.  She taught me about the faith in her actions and her prayers.  We had all the typical Catholic pictures about our home. My parents tried to pray the rosary as a family, but my 2 brothers wouldn't be still, and they gave up.  I kind of wish they didn't give up.  Maybe our family would have survived and not broke up...but alas, I digress.

Mom lived alone for about 41 years.  She had a condo that she had all fixed up beautifully in her peaches and creams.  She gave me her chair and ottoman that her uncle Samuel, Fr. Haughton, had in his rectory that she had for years after her parents died.  She was proud of her priest uncle and had memories of spending time with him.  She was a devout Catholic and an Irish one at that.

So, when mom was sent to the assisted living a few years ago, I contacted the parish near her and made sure she received communion each week.  She loved the older couple that would come each Wednesday.  They would read the daily readings and give her communion.  Later when she was moved to the nursing home last year she didn't know anyone who was Catholic and didn't receive Communion for several months. When I visited her in November 2021, i went to the Shrine of the Blessed Sacrament, nearby and at the giftshop met a lady named Judy who told me she went each week there on Thursdays.  "Consider it done!" she said, when I asked her to put my mom on her list.

My younger brother, who was with mom at the end.

Judy and another lady visited mom every Thursday from that week on and mom would call me to tell me about their visit.  When I went there to say goodbye to mom in last October, I went to the shrine and found Judy at the giftshop and told her. She was so sad, but said she would go the next day.  My son and I had to leave on Thursday the day before mom died.  Judy went to see mom and pray the rosary over her.  My younger brother and his son were there with her and told me later how power and impressed they were.  Kevin, my younger brother, stayed with mom all that day and came back the next day to hold mom while she took her last breath.  Before I left on Wednesday, I mentioned to the hospice nurse that mom was Catholic.  She asked if I wanted her to call Fr. for her last rites.  She said, if I call, he comes right away.  I said "Yes, please."

Our family attended St. Peter's Catholic Church in Hoover, Alabama for years when we first moved to Birmingham, Alabama.  I called the parish office concerning the niche she purchased in the parish columbarium years ago.  The lady was very nice and asked if we were planning the funeral.  I really wasn't sure, my brothers weren't Catholic and I didn't know any of mom's friends anymore.  She said, "You need to talk for Fr., he will help you!  We consider him the funeral priest, its his gift."  After speaking with Fr. Vernon, he convinced me that it was alright to plan one and that "your mom was a practicing Catholic up to the very end and she deserves a funeral Mass."  I agreed.

Mom's funeral was beautiful and Fr. Vernon was just the man to help me with it.  Our daughter, Sarah was able to get off work to attend and cantored the ceremony.  practiced "O Danny Boy" and then asked if I'd sing with her as a duet.  We powered through it pretty well.  My two brothers and their wives attended and 2 of my nephews.  Our son, Marshall and his wife Emily were able to get off work too.  It was wonderful having everyone together.  

My brother, Mike was her executor and took care of her the last few years, he told me he picked out the urn for mom. He said that the funeral director pointed to a cheap urn, but Mike said, No, I want that one."  It was one with a band of pearl around it.  Mom told me years ago, that if she would stop biting her nails that she would like a pearl ring.  Imagine that.

Mom, Part 1

We lost mom 5 months ago, October 14, 2022, at 12:30 pm in my younger brother's arms.  I was back home in NC but was there with mom a couple days before.  She was already in the dying posture, not yet in hospice, but definitely soon to die. It's still hard to believe, I have to say it out loud to hear it and know it to be true.  All my life, I've had a mother, we loved each other, fought, laughed, cried, and celebrated life together.

It was a struggle with my mom at times, growing up she was very strict with what I could wear.  As I became an adult, I did my own thing and was happy as the individual that I am.  BUT I always felt a small twinge guilt for not continuing her preference in my clothes.  She hated denim, I love denim.  She hated my long hair, I prefer my hair long, she hated my crazy hippy skirts, they make me happy.  She hated the blue eyeshadow that I wore as a teenager in high school, that color we can agree on now.

She was a beautiful lady, my mom.  She suffered with arthritis and stomach ulcers as long as I can remember. Her arthritis started early in her life; I don't remember her having straight fingers ever.  She struggled with acid indigestion too.  When I was 15, she was driving me to work one night and said her fingertips were numb. Later, in the early hours of morning, her stomach ruptured and she nearly bled to death.  She was taken by ambulance.  Blood clots were all over the bathroom floor and in the towels.  I did the laundry while she was in hospital and was alarmed by the size of them.  She ended up having her stomach removed.  She broke her pelvis twice and ten days before my wedding, she was admitted to hospital with gallstones. A few years ago, she developed something that she had to have emergency surgery to hook her up to a bag.  She hated that and was angry that no one told her they were going to do that.  Anyway, in her mid 80's she went to three surgeons to reverse it and the third one agreed.  It was a success, and she was back independent again.  These were just the health stuff that I remember well enough to explain. So that she finally succumbed to old age, still astonishes me, she was 90.

Anyway, my son and I were alone for about 7 years.  He and I would go visit mom and sometimes have dinner with her.  She was a bank branch manager and had me bring him to her branch so that she could open an account for him.  She loved him and how he mothered me.  Her favorite memory about him was when I got a new purse.  We went to visit her, and he said to me, "Mom, show Gram your new purse."  She just laughed about that.  Another time was when my son was out riding his bike in the neighborhood, and he saw a lady at her mailbox.  She had a shirt with the bank logo of my mom bank on it, and he noticed that and said, "My Gram works there."  She asked him what her name was.  He said, "Gram." She asked him what her last name was. He said, "Gram".  The lady had a feeling she knew who his Gram was and told mom.  Mom was in hysterics telling me what she said.  We still laughed about mom being Gram Gram.  

When my older brother called me to tell me she was fading and that I needed to come if I wanted to say goodbye.  I went. I called my son to tell him that I was going to say goodbye to Gram.  An hour later, he called and told me his boss had given him 3 days off.  AMAZING!!  My husband couldn't go with me, so I was going to go alone.  It's an 11-hour trip, so now I had my son to go with.  Actually, I felt that it was only fitting that he and I went since it was just him and I for a few years with mom.

To Be Continued...

PRAYER

I don't know.  I just don't know how this whole prayer thing works.  I understand prayer as reaching out to our holy father in faith and the need for relationship.  Yes, I do that and understand what I am doing here, and I understand attending Mass and being one with others in the holy sacrifice of the Mass as a worship and thanksgiving prayer.   I also understand in my own times when I celebrate a goodness in my life reaching up to say thank you, Father.   I totally get that and not wanting to be like the other "nine lepers".   But when it comes to need, I don't know.

The recent years have proven very difficult as our children grew into adulthood, stretched their independent wings and flying away.  One flew into near self-destruction that took my husband and I into near divorce.  There were dark times, scary times, and times of deep depression, the halls of our home were void of love, security, and full of doubt, madness, and strife.  During those times, I'd pray.  With my knuckles white with desperation, tightly gripped together, I'd beg for help.

Ben Shapiro was quoted on Facebook as saying:

I've said this before, I don't believe God is a gumball machine wherein He gives us what we want just because we prayed for it. Prayer is about realigning your life and your thought processes to be in accord with God's will, not the other way around.

Yes, yes that all sounds completely sound, but when you are in the thick of it with a young child, aligning yourself to the will of God just, well there is NO time and surely the will of God would be aligned with your prayer!

My husband told me once that prayer doesn't work the way I want it to work.  God doesn't just give you what you want like a child's Christmas list.  Okay, fine, but why bother praying at the hour of need?  Why pray for what you want if it isn't going to be answered how you want it to be answered?

But what about the moment of desperation?  What about the moment of near destruction?  What about those days that stretch out into weeks and months of darkness and fear? Where is our faith?  Does God give us a nugget of hope?  A moment of enlightenment comes if we listen....if we have faith be it small, weak, and frail. 

God wants only the good for all of us, He loves us more than any parent for their child.  God is love, God is compassion, God is everything we cannot even dream of.  He can make us, break us, end us, or build us up!  I know that what we went through for me and my family.  I look at my husband very differently these days. We have been married 30 years now and still going.  This did not come without doubt and fear during our dark times. Our children are all working hard in their lives, loving our Lord, and making sure their children are at Mass every Sunday.

God is good, prayers are answered.  Patience is a virtue true enough.

Having a very hard times with this meeting.

 The Remnant Newspaper - Declaration of Archbishop Carlo Maria Viganò with regard to the “Fifth International Vatican Conference”

Age discrimination and my husband's job search.

The past two years we have had our share of hard moments to swallow.  In January 2019, after 18 years of devoted service, my beloved scientist husband was told by a newly commissioned department chair that his faculty position as the director of their flow lab will come to an end in six months.  Money, funding the lab was the issue and that they wanted a more aggressive approach to the running of the lab.  They downgraded the position to masters/non-faculty and hired a guy from the Netherlands!

My husband has been very loyal to the needs of the researchers that used his faculty.  Many times on the weekends, he would answer calls, go and help a grad students on the weekends, talked one through an issue using the machines.  He created a flow microscopy graduate course and taught it for 10 years, held open houses, seminars, and wrote a grant and was awarded a $300,000 grant for a new sorter machine.  He worked in collaboration for other grants, other research projects, and happily learned new research.  He even was invited and accepted the opportunity to be an NIH grant reviewer for a few years.

Well, now here we are 4 months our from his retirement and he has been looking for a new science position with no avail.  Over the last 2 years he has applied, been screened, called for an interview, prepared for the interview, interviewed, and then rejected.  Time after time, month after month and now year after year.  He's 64 and still wanting to work in science.  He told me one day last year, "I'm not done with science yet."  I know he isn't and my heart just breaks for him.

All this time, I have had no ability to help him, except to pray.  I have prayed novenas, 2 54-day rosaries (which actually extended his position each time, since they couldn't find someone who did what he did for 18 years).  I have offered up Mass, and fasted, but still no new position comes.  He has a good attitude, better than me.

Anyway, just wanted to put it out there.  If anyone wants to add my husband to their prayer list for a new position which would allow him to finish up his research career the right way,  I thank you.

Oh, what a father we have in St. Joseph!

 Oh what a father we have in St Joseph. He has no speaking role in the Bible, but his message is loud and clear.  A strong faith in God and humble obedience spoke loudly from this mild ancient carpenter.  Throughout Jesus' short life, Joseph was in the background keeping his little family fed working in his workshop.  As the years went on, he taught his carpentry skills to his young foster. Ever wonder what the conversations were like that he and Jesus had while they worked together?  

As Jesus and Mary were, I don't think Joseph was without sin, however, he was probably a naturally good and honest man. Considering he, unlike his peers, didn't want Mary put to shame or worse when she was found pregnant.  He listened to the dreams, he obeyed the angel, his humble ways were clearly how he was able to believe what he saw and heard.  Many times, it is the stubbornness that gets in the way of our obedience to what we may not see, or hear, but know.  Many times our humanness gets in the way of the sacred.

In St. Joseph's simple world, it was the sacred that dominated their existence.  God was among their every day lives covered in flesh.  I'm sure there were moments that seemed more human and mundane, but then there were the moments that brought them back to their reality of the God-child in their midst. Oh what a gift God gave them!

St. Joseph is a role model for all, not just fathers, or workers, but all of us.  We could all use to ponder his humble obedience in the bleakest of nights.  He experienced nights when his whole world was on his shoulders, leading a donkey with a very pregnant wife on it, packing up his family quickly in the dead of night to a destination unknown for a time unknown.  He did it, and they survived and were comforted by his leadership.

Oh what a father we  have in St. Joseph.  Strength, leadership, comfort, trust, obedience, truly traits to ponder for the year.

An Unexpected Purpose

It's 6:30 am and the baby is already waking up.  Luckily I am married to a morning person who loves his morning time with his coffee.  He happily gets up and retrieves the little one and goes downstairs, leaving me peacefully in bed.  My turn will come later in the day when he runs errands or just chills for awhile and pursues his interests.

Such is a day in the life of grandparents caring for a  young grandchild.  We don't personally know any other friends in this situation, which makes it awkward to try to get together.  Our daughter works a fulltime job, so we have her little guy when she works and sometimes at night when she works late.  He's a sweet little boy, little blue baby eyes and a smile that lights up the room.

In these days when life issues are at the forefront of the news and political agendas, we are fully aware of how things could have turned out if his mother had decided to terminate her pregnancy.   Her life would be less complicated then, for sure.  Oh and to think of what my husband and I could be doing right now!  We have a brand new camper out back only used 2 times since last summer since we purchased it.  But wait, that is total nonsense, camping can wait until he is older and can happily go with us and enjoy the outdoors.  That is really the way we are thinking.  Yes, yes, it's hard when he cries for everything at this point in his little 9-month old life.  But, when he laughs at something my husband does or at a cat walking by him, they are the golden moments.  

We both are exhausted at the end of the day, but we sleep well knowing that the day was spent loving a little boy that came into our lives unplanned, but loved and accepted.

Part-time Jesus?

 Once, several years ago, our parish priest, during one of his homilies told us that we cannot pick and choose the teachings of Jesus.  If you are going to profess that you are a Christian, then you have to take all of Jesus, not just part of Him.

This stayed with me, as you can  see.   As a professed Christian, actually a Roman Catholic Christian, I have made it my priority to read the bible daily, read the readings of the liturgical year and know the teachings of our Lord. Do I  adhere to all His teachings?  Yes, as humanly possible. 

The Ten Commandments is the place to start:

1.    I am the Lord your God:  You shall not have strange gods before me.

2.    You shall not take the name of the Lord  your God in vain.

3.    Remember to keep the holy the Lord's Day.

4.    Honor your father and mother.

5.    You shall not kill.

6.    You shall not commit adultery.

7.    You shall not steal.

8.    You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor.

9.    You shall not covet your neighbor's wife.

10.   You shall not covet your neighbor's goods.

After looking over these commandments and seeing where you are good with these, next,

the Beatitudes are the next good place to study.

The text of St. Matthew runs as follows:

• Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
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• Blessed are the meek: for they shall possess the land.
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• Blessed are they who mourn: for they shall be comforted.
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• Blessed are they that hunger and thirst after justice: for they shall have their fill.
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• Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy.
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• Blessed are the clean of heart: for they shall see God.
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• Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God.
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• Blessed are they that suffer persecution for justice' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of God.

Being a Christian is NOT an easy life.  The above guidelines are plain and simple in reading, however following them is not.

The Girl in the War, part 4? It ain't over yet....no help is coming

The "Girl In The War" is still in her war.  She is older now, and wiser, but still in a war.  She is a mother now, and in a new place in her life now, but still in a war.  She is depressed, anxiety-burdened, and alone, but still in a war.  We take care of her son now as she is emotionally unable to because of that war.

This blog used to be so much busier than these past years...I had so much to say.

It's been hard and then 2020 hit and it got just a little bit harder.

Prayers would be appreciated.