Today is an additional kind of “Memorial” day for me. Today marks six months to the day since dad passed away. Half a year. It’s still a weird time phenomenon. Half a year; six months. It’s a while but also not.
Yesterday, just Zachary and I went to church. Matthew threw up in the morning (happy 3 day weekend to us! Poor guy) and Kayliana – well, if she’s not sick then she’s mentally ill as she’s been acting all sortsa padded room crazy. So, Zach and I went to Mass (wishing Mike luck as I happily walked out the door).
Father Todd’s homily was awesome – as always. The music was extra beautiful. The sun broke through the clouds and lit up the altar under the skylight. Zach received his 2nd Communion! Without the distraction of a 3 year old, I was able to pay closer attention to the words – especially during the Eucharistic Prayer as Father Todd asked for the prayers of the Saints gone before us. When you really listen to the words, it’s not just a bunch of religious theology fanciness. He offers Thanksgiving and asks for prayers for our health and well-being. Isn’t that something we’re always wanting? We pray for it at the most important part of the Mass every week! We join in communion with all the members of the church – living and dead. We pray that all the deceased be welcomed into God’s kingdom. There are all sorts of awesome that we say and pray for and offer gratitude for, and it just felt like it was all about dad yesterday. He was there. It was just all happening there. I fell apart. After Communion, during the beautiful hymn, I kind of lost it. I think I managed to not draw TOO much attention to myself. I kept it quiet, but this was definitely not a socially acceptable, pretty little tear slipping down my cheek. I must say I’m impressed with my 8 year old son that he’s so unfazed by my tears and emotional blubbering (even in public), that he didn’t look at all surprised or embarrassed and just immediately started rubbing and patting my arm.
Six months ago today.