One Month Since the Funeral

She was buried on August 27, the Feast of St Monica; and today is the 1 month anniversary.

Oh Lord may she rest in peace.

As for me ...

Mornings are still the worst time of the day.

This morning I woke up crying. I looked over at her chair. She's not there. I could not say, "Good morning, Mom." I could not hear her say in reply, "Good morning, my son."

"My son." She loved to say those words. And I loved to hear them.

When I took the dog for a walk this morning, though, I had an interesting experience with my envy / grass-is-greener-on-the-other-side temptation.

As we walked up the street bordering Woodward Park on the east side, I saw through the early morning mist a couple walking in the other direction. My first thought was something like, "here's another happy couple ... and I am alone. Je suis seul."

As I and this couple, neared one another, I heard their conversation, though. I couldn't help overhearing. It was heated, bickering, nasty. It sounded like the kind of thing that can grow up between two people who know each other very, very well ... and know each other's vulnerabilities very, very well ... and know what to say and how to say it in order to cause great pain.

And I thought of Sartre's "Hell is other people."

Maybe that's going a little far ... but ... hey, maybe there are worse things than being alone.

The grass is not necessarily greener on the other side.

Still I see no path forward for me personally. That hurts but hurts less. Nowhere to go, nothing to do, no reason to do it. Not such a good place for me I think but that's where I am.

Legacy ... I used to never ever think about such things, but since Mom's death, it's been such a challenge ... such a painful, painful challenge. There is no one, and nothing, to pass on, or pass on to, for me.

Yet ... again, the grass is not necessarily greener on the other side.

For one thing, if there is much to have, there is much to lose, even as Legacy. Who was it ... a French King? ... yes, Googles says Louis XV... who said "Après moi, le déluge". Well, for me, "Après moi, rien; après moi, rien du tout." Is leaving behind "rien" better or worse than "le déluge"?

And even for those who see themselves leaving great Legacy and great Memory ... Keats' Ozymandias may be sufficient answer.

You know ... actually ... I was thinking the other day that there is great wisdom in the Libyan Arab saying "mahlesh" = (roughly) "it doesn't matter." Mahlesh could be said for just about anything in this world.

All in all, then, hope for Legacy may be in some sense natural, but it also appears to be at best a mirage.

So there is no hope in Legacy anyway.

Should this mean that I should despair? Maybe so, in a way. Maybe so. If so, well, maybe there's something to be said for Despair. The clarity Despair affords can't be such a bad thing, can it?. Despair of the things of this world that is.

Here I have no hope; I leave behind no hope. In this world, it is truly fair enough to say that I have no hope.

Very well then. All my hope therefore must be in God.

You alone O Lord you alone are my hope.

Mom's Psalm that she wanted at her Funeral ... and that was read by the Pastor a month ago over her casket ... was Psalm 121. "I look unto the hills from which comes my hope."

She was right. That's where the Hope is. In You and You alone O Lord.

Thy will not mine be done. Amen.

Mom ... I love you. Rest in peace.

Your son ... your son always and forever,

Charles Delacroix
F of St Vincent de Paul