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.
1 comment:
Your sweet boy. That's wonderful that he allows you to cry and is just there for you.
Those moments come without warning and just knock you over. Let them happen. You'll be ok and bottling them up only makes the next ones worse. Love to you.
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