It’s hard to know what to call this person I know who died today. He’s my dad’s friend, but I’ve known him since I was around the age of four or five. He hunted and fished with my dad and my brothers. He owned dogs. He married into our family (cousins), and was family in the way that cousins are when kids know there are adult cousins. We don’t do the family tree, we just say, “He’s a cousin,” and... Read more
Discussing the Joyful Mysteries connection to something of life, other than just happiness, something that demands more of the self. Joy feels effortless, but it is a response to the world and its demands, and it is willed. Here’s the beginning: The Joyful Mysteries of the Rosary Inspire Joyful Witnesses to the Gospel “To meditate upon the joyful mysteries … is to enter into the ultimate causes and the deepest meaning of Christian joy.” (Pope St. John Paul II) Bartolomé... Read more
How we are the both ands, not either/ors. We are to love God first, and our neighbor as we do ourselves. To live this reality means all, and it is intended to mean all. That’s how big our hearts need to grow, so that our finite selves never put a limit on love, because God does not. This does not mean embracing the abuser or pretending someone isn’t racist, it means praying for their conversion, for that “Amazing grace,”... Read more
Recently, I served as a substitute teacher for an American Sign Language class to help provide coverage. Two former students I’d taught were on the roster. Both hold warm spots in my heart. They came to visit after the class. They hadn’t known about my cancer and my bald head drew questions. When I joked about it speeding up my getting ready in the morning and never having any snarls when I combed my hair, one said, “You’re so happy.”... Read more
I’m thinking, we need a do-over of the Year of Mercy. Because the last one didn’t take. A friend online recently came under fire for things she’d written in the past. I read the very real pain in her voice as friendships ended because of the scorn and derision she received. It was public and it left bruises. She’d been stoned by people she considered friends. I sat there trembling, because this happens more and more. People no longer... Read more
We were made for love, not use. This first reality of our being, is the essence of why we crave affection, attention, affirmation and acceptance like oxygen in our daily lives. We long to feel certain that we won’t be rejected, and devise all sorts of ways to hide whatever it is about ourselves we fear others will reject. To teach our culture, so rooted in use, of something better, we need to stop thinking as man does –about everything,... Read more
So I’ve been through three rounds of chemotherapy, I’ve lost my hair and now we hit the hard place. Food is no longer a source of joy, but a potential threat no matter how I feel about the matter. I can be starving, and food tastes bad. I can feel sick to my stomach, and food is necessary. Whatever my expectation, it’s wrong, and thus far, the only preapproved meals I’ve found are soup, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, crackers... Read more
For the past few years, I’ve written a baseball poem about watching the playoffs or the world series. Today, I share my hope, love and pain, things all baseball lovers know from loving the sport. My husband loves the Red Sox. I’m rooting for the ‘Stros. The series is tied, grand slams aside, as I endure great pitching woes. With an ERA of 20.5 in 5 1/2 innings of the series there isn’t a rhyme to convey the misery this... Read more
This is something I wrote back in 2015…because I know that all life is precious. I believe all life is worth protecting, and that we are only as just as we are to the ones to whom we are least just. We are only as kind, as we are to those to whom we are least kind. We are only as generous as we are to those to whom we are least generous. We are called to a giving life... Read more
Back when I was five or six, Mom took me for a necessary vaccination. I didn’t want the shot (naturally). So Mom asked me if there was something I really wanted. There was. I wanted a spirograph. She promised if I didn’t scream and make a fuss over the shot, we could get it. The deal was struck. I’d be Spirograph brave. Photo from Ebay of Vintage 1967 Kenner Spirograph Set. The shot happened and Mom and I bought the... Read more
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