Now I'm watching The Red Green Show ... which I watched along with Momma every now and then ...
I loved endorsing some slightly corny, rustic piece of male humor from the show and watching Momma laugh ... this show always but always included a generous helping of Duck Tape (duct tape) ... and often when I'd turn on the show I'd run get a roll of our duck tape and lay it on the floor next to me while I began watching, and I'd ham it up for Momma ... "OK, I've got my duck tape, like every good man keeps always right at hand, so I guess I'm ready for the Red Green Show. Mom would laugh and chuckle quietly ... and I would too.
Oh Lord you know that my chuckling was more at her chuckling than at either Red Green or the duck tape ... I imagine she knew it too ...
Oh Momma ... how I miss you ...
Friday, November 30, 2007
What is Love? "The Nearness That Is All"
A man in my Grief Support Group brought in copies of a poem by Samuel Hazo titled "The Nearness that is All". He said he had gotten it from the NPR website. I did a Google search and it looks like Garrison Keillor has mounted it in his Writer's Almanac, with permission, at http://writersalmanac.publicradio.org/programs/2007/11/19/ ... scroll down to Saturday 11/24.
I read this poem and couldn't stop thinking about it, choking, crying ... excerpts:
"Love is the man who siphoned phlegm from his ill wife's throat three times a day for seven years ..."
Oh Momma it was sheer privilege ... every time I wiped you where you wiped me as a babe; every time I cleaned you, every time I gave you a back rubby down, every time I gave you a foot rubby down, every time I touched you, every time you touched me ... Oh Momma that was sheerest sheerest privilege ...
"[Love's] why a mother whispers to her suckling, 'may you bury me.' "
Oh Momma this then was also my privilege, to carry out your unspoken heart's desire for I think this truly was your desire ...
"Love leaves no one alone but, oh, lonely, lonelier, loneliest at midnight in another country."
Oh lonely lonely lonely now ... it is now midnight in another country ... every moment in this country is midnight in another country, here in Babylon, far far from Jerusalem, here, where we are all aliens and exiles ...
"Love's how death creates a different nearness but kills nothing."
Oh Momma ... a different nearness ... this is perhaps still to be mine ... I can only hope and pray for this nearness that now feels so very very much like a farness too too far away ...
"Love saddens glad dayts for no bad reason.
Love gladdens sad days for no good reason.
Love mocks equivalence.
Love is."
Oh Momma yes this is love ... what else what else indeed ... this is Agape love of which St Paul wrote to the Corinthians our brothers and sisters now past ...
Oh Momma oh Momma oh Momma how I miss you .... oh oh oh oh oh ....
Oh Jesus my Jesus please ...
Please please please please please ...
Take good care of my dear dear Momma ...
I love you Momma so ...
I love you Jesus so ...
Charles Delacroix
Feast of St Andrew
I read this poem and couldn't stop thinking about it, choking, crying ... excerpts:
"Love is the man who siphoned phlegm from his ill wife's throat three times a day for seven years ..."
Oh Momma it was sheer privilege ... every time I wiped you where you wiped me as a babe; every time I cleaned you, every time I gave you a back rubby down, every time I gave you a foot rubby down, every time I touched you, every time you touched me ... Oh Momma that was sheerest sheerest privilege ...
"[Love's] why a mother whispers to her suckling, 'may you bury me.' "
Oh Momma this then was also my privilege, to carry out your unspoken heart's desire for I think this truly was your desire ...
"Love leaves no one alone but, oh, lonely, lonelier, loneliest at midnight in another country."
Oh lonely lonely lonely now ... it is now midnight in another country ... every moment in this country is midnight in another country, here in Babylon, far far from Jerusalem, here, where we are all aliens and exiles ...
"Love's how death creates a different nearness but kills nothing."
Oh Momma ... a different nearness ... this is perhaps still to be mine ... I can only hope and pray for this nearness that now feels so very very much like a farness too too far away ...
"Love saddens glad dayts for no bad reason.
Love gladdens sad days for no good reason.
Love mocks equivalence.
Love is."
Oh Momma yes this is love ... what else what else indeed ... this is Agape love of which St Paul wrote to the Corinthians our brothers and sisters now past ...
Oh Momma oh Momma oh Momma how I miss you .... oh oh oh oh oh ....
Oh Jesus my Jesus please ...
Please please please please please ...
Take good care of my dear dear Momma ...
I love you Momma so ...
I love you Jesus so ...
Charles Delacroix
Feast of St Andrew
Loneliness ... Again ...
I'm sitting here watching TV ... and feeling this horrible, horrible sense of utter loneliness ... I look at Mom's chair ... and she's not there ... she's gone ... gone ...
Oh God Oh God Oh God ...
Of course it probably doesn't help that I'm watching, off & on, On the Beach, http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0219224/ the 2000 remake of the 1959 classic. According to the IMDb comments, this is an even more powerful but also even more depressing movie than the original.
I didn't go to see a movie today ... which saved some on $$$ but also probably contributed to this horrible feeling of emptiness & loneliness ...
Oh God Oh God Oh God ...
Of course it probably doesn't help that I'm watching, off & on, On the Beach, http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0219224/ the 2000 remake of the 1959 classic. According to the IMDb comments, this is an even more powerful but also even more depressing movie than the original.
I didn't go to see a movie today ... which saved some on $$$ but also probably contributed to this horrible feeling of emptiness & loneliness ...
Gratitude ... yes ... but bleak the past, and bleak the future ..
After the initial feelings of emptiness, that seems to be a staple of my mornings these days, I felt enormous gratitude thinking about the gift that was Mom ... and the gifts that are, really, every moment of every day ...
But the feelings of torment ... worrying about the future ... after a very bleak conversation with a previous supervisor last night ...
I had a really interesting conversation with my cousin about the small town in which my mother, and his, had grown up. I'm not sure if I should say the name of the town ... I'll call it
"H-ville" This small town was both the place from which my mother was always moving away ... throughout her life ... yet it was always, always in a most fundamental sense Home for her.
I've heard about H-ville all my life. And talking with my cousin ... who lived there, taking care of our Grandpa in the early 1970s ... I benefited from his vivid memories of H-ville. He said he's lived in large cities and small - San Diego, Jacksonville, Tulsa, Pocahontas (small town in Iowa) ... but of all the places he's lived, the one he really found to be the best ... at many levels ... was tiny H-ville. My cousin said H-ville really was just like the Mayberry of the Andy Griffith Show. And this was a place that really was tolerant of aberrant, elderly, or otherwise less than perfect citizens. To this extent, H-ville was something like that wonderful town in Lars and the Real Girl. http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0805564/ And my cousin and I agreed that this town ... Grandpa's home ... would have been the place he would have liked to have died, even if he fell off a bridge or drowned in a "ditch." Better by far than to die broken and stripped of everything that was of value to him, in the nursing home where he was placed, to die abject and alone within a year of his compulsory placement there.
Mom ... and my Aunt ... "moved on" from H-ville. And it's hard, very hard, for me now to wish that they had not followed the contemporary cultural lead, followed by all good peripatic Americans back then, thinking to escape the Great Depression by finding a life Somewhere Else.
And what of me ... today ... and thinking of my Mom ... yesterday ...
I can't but admire Mom for trying. She followed the path she thought best, and did the best she knew how. But ultimately ... things seemed not to really work out. In a way it has to be said she over-reached ... and the results of over-reach are all around us in our shattered, alienated, impoverished and deracinated family.
Even ... can it be said? Even when it comes to our chosen professions. Mom and I were here once again, as so often, so much alike.
For to be honest, I'm not so great at what I do. I'm one of those folks in the profession who has his license and does sort of OK but on the whole really doesn't quite measure up.
Likewise my Mom wanted to write ... and got her degree in Journalism ... but was really not all that great despite her honest and vigorous efforts. She too didn't really quite measure up.
How if she ... and her children ... had stayed in H-ville?
She could not have reasonably really been a Journalist in H-ville. I doubt if I could have plied my profession there either. She .... and, I suppose, I ... would have been situated in humbler vocations. But ones perhaps that would have brought us greater sense of purpose, of satisfaction, of connection to the community - even if I had been a shopkeeper and she a homemaker.
Oh my. Those strategic decisions of the 1930s and 1940s truly led to deep dislocation and deracination for all of us ...
And today I sit alone ... rootless ... hopeless ...
and therefore turn to the Hope of the Hopeless ...
Oh Lord Jesus Christ have mercy on me and rescue me from my own isolation and nothingness.
Oh Lord Jesus Christ please please please take good care of my Momma
I love you Lord Jesus.
Charles Delacroix
Feast of St Andrew
But the feelings of torment ... worrying about the future ... after a very bleak conversation with a previous supervisor last night ...
I had a really interesting conversation with my cousin about the small town in which my mother, and his, had grown up. I'm not sure if I should say the name of the town ... I'll call it
"H-ville" This small town was both the place from which my mother was always moving away ... throughout her life ... yet it was always, always in a most fundamental sense Home for her.
I've heard about H-ville all my life. And talking with my cousin ... who lived there, taking care of our Grandpa in the early 1970s ... I benefited from his vivid memories of H-ville. He said he's lived in large cities and small - San Diego, Jacksonville, Tulsa, Pocahontas (small town in Iowa) ... but of all the places he's lived, the one he really found to be the best ... at many levels ... was tiny H-ville. My cousin said H-ville really was just like the Mayberry of the Andy Griffith Show. And this was a place that really was tolerant of aberrant, elderly, or otherwise less than perfect citizens. To this extent, H-ville was something like that wonderful town in Lars and the Real Girl. http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0805564/ And my cousin and I agreed that this town ... Grandpa's home ... would have been the place he would have liked to have died, even if he fell off a bridge or drowned in a "ditch." Better by far than to die broken and stripped of everything that was of value to him, in the nursing home where he was placed, to die abject and alone within a year of his compulsory placement there.
Mom ... and my Aunt ... "moved on" from H-ville. And it's hard, very hard, for me now to wish that they had not followed the contemporary cultural lead, followed by all good peripatic Americans back then, thinking to escape the Great Depression by finding a life Somewhere Else.
And what of me ... today ... and thinking of my Mom ... yesterday ...
I can't but admire Mom for trying. She followed the path she thought best, and did the best she knew how. But ultimately ... things seemed not to really work out. In a way it has to be said she over-reached ... and the results of over-reach are all around us in our shattered, alienated, impoverished and deracinated family.
Even ... can it be said? Even when it comes to our chosen professions. Mom and I were here once again, as so often, so much alike.
For to be honest, I'm not so great at what I do. I'm one of those folks in the profession who has his license and does sort of OK but on the whole really doesn't quite measure up.
Likewise my Mom wanted to write ... and got her degree in Journalism ... but was really not all that great despite her honest and vigorous efforts. She too didn't really quite measure up.
How if she ... and her children ... had stayed in H-ville?
She could not have reasonably really been a Journalist in H-ville. I doubt if I could have plied my profession there either. She .... and, I suppose, I ... would have been situated in humbler vocations. But ones perhaps that would have brought us greater sense of purpose, of satisfaction, of connection to the community - even if I had been a shopkeeper and she a homemaker.
Oh my. Those strategic decisions of the 1930s and 1940s truly led to deep dislocation and deracination for all of us ...
And today I sit alone ... rootless ... hopeless ...
and therefore turn to the Hope of the Hopeless ...
Oh Lord Jesus Christ have mercy on me and rescue me from my own isolation and nothingness.
Oh Lord Jesus Christ please please please take good care of my Momma
I love you Lord Jesus.
Charles Delacroix
Feast of St Andrew
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Sparkling Frost
When I visited Mom's grave this morning, the whole cemetery displayed a wintry, heavy hoarfrost that simply sparkled and shimmered in the morning sunshine.
Oh Momma you would love to see this beautiful, somber, affecting scene ...
I miss you Momma so much ... so much ...
I love you Momma
I love you Jesus
Please please please Lord take good care of my Momma ...
Love,
Charles Delacroix
Eve of the Feast of St Andrew
Oh Momma you would love to see this beautiful, somber, affecting scene ...
I miss you Momma so much ... so much ...
I love you Momma
I love you Jesus
Please please please Lord take good care of my Momma ...
Love,
Charles Delacroix
Eve of the Feast of St Andrew
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Monument for Mom
I spent some time at the funeral home making arrangements for a permanent grave marker. I really felt good about the outcome ... and yet part of me was screaming, "No, No, this isn't right ... she should be here and now ... why oh why am I arranging a grave stone?"
I have no answer. But "it is what it is". Thy will not mine be done, O Lord.
And Lord please please please ... take good care of my Momma ...
I love you Lord
I love you Momma
Charles Delacroix
Wednesday of the 34th Week in Ordinary Time
I have no answer. But "it is what it is". Thy will not mine be done, O Lord.
And Lord please please please ... take good care of my Momma ...
I love you Lord
I love you Momma
Charles Delacroix
Wednesday of the 34th Week in Ordinary Time
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
3 Month Anniversay of the Funeral ... and Job Hunting
Today is exactly 3 months since Mom was buried on August 27 ... the Feast of St Monica.
And yesterday was the first day I actually was able to get myself to submit a job application ... back at my old employer, the one from whom I resigned about 9 months ago to take care of Mom full time.
I found myself worrying and worrying and worrying about work ... and then thought of that wonderful OOR for the Feast of St Monica ... St Augustine's account of the last days of St Monica. And what a wonderful reminder ... that here I have no lasting place.
I'm looking not just for any job but for the right "match" ... that fits my status as a stranger in a strange land, an alien and exile laboring until I am recalled by Our Lord from this, my place of temporary sojourn i this world ...
I love you Lord
I love you Momma
I love you St Monica
I love you St Augustine
O Lord please please please take good care of my Momma.
I love you.
In Jesus Name,
Charles Delacroix
Tuesday of the 34th Week in Ordinary Time
And yesterday was the first day I actually was able to get myself to submit a job application ... back at my old employer, the one from whom I resigned about 9 months ago to take care of Mom full time.
I found myself worrying and worrying and worrying about work ... and then thought of that wonderful OOR for the Feast of St Monica ... St Augustine's account of the last days of St Monica. And what a wonderful reminder ... that here I have no lasting place.
I'm looking not just for any job but for the right "match" ... that fits my status as a stranger in a strange land, an alien and exile laboring until I am recalled by Our Lord from this, my place of temporary sojourn i this world ...
I love you Lord
I love you Momma
I love you St Monica
I love you St Augustine
O Lord please please please take good care of my Momma.
I love you.
In Jesus Name,
Charles Delacroix
Tuesday of the 34th Week in Ordinary Time
A Charlie Brown Christmas
I watched "A Charlie Brown Christmas" tonite, in the spirit of doing an "as if" Christmas Season ... so I watched "as if" Momma were sitting here and watching with me.
Mom and I both simply loved Charlie Brown TV shows, including this one. Oh how she would have loved this one as well, I have no doubt.
And honestly, although it's painful, still, I don't know when I have enjoyed the annual "Charlie Brown Christmas" more.
Oh Lord thank you so much for this wonderful show.
And thank you so much for my Momma.
Please Lord take good care of my Momma.
I love you Lord.
In Jesus Name,
Charles Delacroix
Tuesday in Week 34 in Ordinary Time
Mom and I both simply loved Charlie Brown TV shows, including this one. Oh how she would have loved this one as well, I have no doubt.
And honestly, although it's painful, still, I don't know when I have enjoyed the annual "Charlie Brown Christmas" more.
Oh Lord thank you so much for this wonderful show.
And thank you so much for my Momma.
Please Lord take good care of my Momma.
I love you Lord.
In Jesus Name,
Charles Delacroix
Tuesday in Week 34 in Ordinary Time
Saturday, November 24, 2007
"I'm not ready" ... "Not yet"
There's a wonderfully, darkly humorous scene in High Society (1956) http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0049314/(see previous blog entry):
Mike (Frank Sinatra) and Tracy (Grace Kelly) are driving quickly down the highway in Tracy's convertible. Tracy is driving.
Mike: Where are we going.
Tracy: To the graveyard.
Mike: I'm not ready.
I laughed ... and then winced. This could be the story of my life since Momma died ... and this reminds me of Gladiator (2000) http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0172495/ Juba (Djimoun Hounsou) gives the final lines, as he buries the figurines of Maximus (Russell Crowe) parents after Maximus death:
Juba: I will see you again. But not yet ... not yet.
Mike (Frank Sinatra) and Tracy (Grace Kelly) are driving quickly down the highway in Tracy's convertible. Tracy is driving.
Mike: Where are we going.
Tracy: To the graveyard.
Mike: I'm not ready.
I laughed ... and then winced. This could be the story of my life since Momma died ... and this reminds me of Gladiator (2000) http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0172495/ Juba (Djimoun Hounsou) gives the final lines, as he buries the figurines of Maximus (Russell Crowe) parents after Maximus death:
Juba: I will see you again. But not yet ... not yet.
Missing Momma ...
I've had a really, really rough day ... missing Momma ... so very, very, very much ....
Cheers & MASH were on tonite ... Saturday night ... how you would have loved to watch these ...
High Society (1956) http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0049314/ was on OETA Movie Club tonite. Mom would have loved it: Bing Crosby, Grace Kelly, Frank Sinatra ...
Oh Momma I miss you so much ... so much ...
Oh Momma I love you and I miss you ...
Oh Jesus I beg you ... take good care of my Momma ...
I love you Momma ...
I love you Lord Jesus.
Charles Delacroix
Eve of the Feast of Christ the King
Cheers & MASH were on tonite ... Saturday night ... how you would have loved to watch these ...
High Society (1956) http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0049314/ was on OETA Movie Club tonite. Mom would have loved it: Bing Crosby, Grace Kelly, Frank Sinatra ...
Oh Momma I miss you so much ... so much ...
Oh Momma I love you and I miss you ...
Oh Jesus I beg you ... take good care of my Momma ...
I love you Momma ...
I love you Lord Jesus.
Charles Delacroix
Eve of the Feast of Christ the King
Friday, November 23, 2007
Finding the Cabin
"The Cabin" was a small building constructed by Mom's father (my Grandpa) and by my father as a sort of get-away for our family. It was located on 7.5 acres of wooded property near the crest of a ridge located a few hours southeast of our home in Tulsa. It was built in about 1958 or 1959, when I was only a few years old. A small cinder-block building, it was painted a distinctive light pink color because (according to Mom) Dad was able to get a special price on pink paint that made it the most economical color for his project.
We used The Cabin principally on weekends during summers until 1966, when we moved overseas. The Cabin and adjacent property was finally sold in the 1970s or 80s, I think. I myself don't think I had been there for over 40 years.
Well, my cousin and I went looking for The Cabin today. And after searching the ridge crest, now far more heavily populated, with houses and trailers and mobile homes lining the street running along the crest, we found it. A 17 year old boy showed us around the property that he said he had grown up on after his parents bought it about 8 years ago. The Cabin itself showed the wear and renovation of time, but was impressively intact, in basically good condition, two walls still exhibiting the distinctive pink pigment. Only one additional coat of paint had been applied to another wall, although the roof had been replaced several times, and the building was now used to hold tools and supplies, according to our young guide.
I felt deeply grateful to see that a building built by my father and grandfather had weathered almost half a century. I saw part of a fence line that had been lined by rose bushes, planted and cared for by my dear mother, who raked and cleaned under them each time we visited The Cabin.
I know of course that she never really liked The Cabin. Yet she always tried to make the best of this project always dear to my father.
She ate what was set before her.
I am simply deeply, deeply, deeply grateful ... what an amazing Mom, and Dad, and Grandpa.
Thank you Lord
And Lord
Please take good, good, good care of my dear Momma.
I love you Lord
Love,
Charles Delacroix
Feast of St Clement
We used The Cabin principally on weekends during summers until 1966, when we moved overseas. The Cabin and adjacent property was finally sold in the 1970s or 80s, I think. I myself don't think I had been there for over 40 years.
Well, my cousin and I went looking for The Cabin today. And after searching the ridge crest, now far more heavily populated, with houses and trailers and mobile homes lining the street running along the crest, we found it. A 17 year old boy showed us around the property that he said he had grown up on after his parents bought it about 8 years ago. The Cabin itself showed the wear and renovation of time, but was impressively intact, in basically good condition, two walls still exhibiting the distinctive pink pigment. Only one additional coat of paint had been applied to another wall, although the roof had been replaced several times, and the building was now used to hold tools and supplies, according to our young guide.
I felt deeply grateful to see that a building built by my father and grandfather had weathered almost half a century. I saw part of a fence line that had been lined by rose bushes, planted and cared for by my dear mother, who raked and cleaned under them each time we visited The Cabin.
I know of course that she never really liked The Cabin. Yet she always tried to make the best of this project always dear to my father.
She ate what was set before her.
I am simply deeply, deeply, deeply grateful ... what an amazing Mom, and Dad, and Grandpa.
Thank you Lord
And Lord
Please take good, good, good care of my dear Momma.
I love you Lord
Love,
Charles Delacroix
Feast of St Clement
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Thanksgiving: 3 months since Mom's departure from this life
Thanksgiving Day ... exactly 3 months since Mom's death on August 22 ... and the Feast of St Cecilia, Patron Saint of Music. To me this is a confluence of 3 very special days in remembrance of my dear Momma.
Right now I'm listening to a Thanksgiving choral music special on PBS. Oh how Momma would have loved to sit here and listen to this program. She loved choir music; loved being in choirs; loved the human voice.
This morning, I made a special arrangement in the floral vase at Mom's grave. I placed some branches with dead leaves in the vase along with the rose arrangement already there. And I placed a little turkey, made of plaster, chipped but always a part of our Thanksgiving, on her temporary marker. I took photos of her grave with the turkey and the arrangement. I also took Spooky down to visit Mom and took pictures of Mom's grave with the dog at the grave.
I also took some of Grandpa's old things over to Aunt Edna's. She looked at them and so did Cousins Arthur Lee and Rosanna and Annette. I think we all enjoyed looking at these precious old things: a duck call and a turkey call, both made by Grampa. Arthur Lee knew how to use both, and showed us where Grampa kept resin in the turkey call and how he would have used it to enhance the sound of the turkey call. There was a small animal trap and an old watch and a pocket knife and a wooden-handled screwdriver. All had belonged to Grampa - Mom's Father.
Then we all went to a bed & breakfast between Tulsa & Bartlesville for Thanksgiving Dinner with Cousin Charlotte and her husband Jeff and their children Andrew and Ethan. The latter are aged about 8 and 7 ... my 2nd cousins. It really felt good to see them. Aunt Edna didn't feel up to going, but the rest of my cousins were there.
It was so very painful, Momma, that you weren't there. Oh how I miss you so very very much. Yet it was so good to be there with my cousins.
I have so much to be grateful for.
But Oh how I miss you Momma.
I stood and looked out from the bed & breakfast place ... looked out across a lovely view of Washington County ...
And couldn't help thinking ...
That nothing but nothing but nothing is right without you here Momma.
The universe is wrong.
Utterly wrong.
Without you here.
Lord Jesus Christ please please please take good care of my Momma.
I love you Lord Jesus
Holy Mary Mother of God Pray for Me and My Momma
St Cecilia of your courtesy please pray for me and my Momma
All Angels and Saints please pray for me and my Momma
Love in Christ always
Charles Delacroix
Feast of St Cecilia
Right now I'm listening to a Thanksgiving choral music special on PBS. Oh how Momma would have loved to sit here and listen to this program. She loved choir music; loved being in choirs; loved the human voice.
This morning, I made a special arrangement in the floral vase at Mom's grave. I placed some branches with dead leaves in the vase along with the rose arrangement already there. And I placed a little turkey, made of plaster, chipped but always a part of our Thanksgiving, on her temporary marker. I took photos of her grave with the turkey and the arrangement. I also took Spooky down to visit Mom and took pictures of Mom's grave with the dog at the grave.
I also took some of Grandpa's old things over to Aunt Edna's. She looked at them and so did Cousins Arthur Lee and Rosanna and Annette. I think we all enjoyed looking at these precious old things: a duck call and a turkey call, both made by Grampa. Arthur Lee knew how to use both, and showed us where Grampa kept resin in the turkey call and how he would have used it to enhance the sound of the turkey call. There was a small animal trap and an old watch and a pocket knife and a wooden-handled screwdriver. All had belonged to Grampa - Mom's Father.
Then we all went to a bed & breakfast between Tulsa & Bartlesville for Thanksgiving Dinner with Cousin Charlotte and her husband Jeff and their children Andrew and Ethan. The latter are aged about 8 and 7 ... my 2nd cousins. It really felt good to see them. Aunt Edna didn't feel up to going, but the rest of my cousins were there.
It was so very painful, Momma, that you weren't there. Oh how I miss you so very very much. Yet it was so good to be there with my cousins.
I have so much to be grateful for.
But Oh how I miss you Momma.
I stood and looked out from the bed & breakfast place ... looked out across a lovely view of Washington County ...
And couldn't help thinking ...
That nothing but nothing but nothing is right without you here Momma.
The universe is wrong.
Utterly wrong.
Without you here.
Lord Jesus Christ please please please take good care of my Momma.
I love you Lord Jesus
Holy Mary Mother of God Pray for Me and My Momma
St Cecilia of your courtesy please pray for me and my Momma
All Angels and Saints please pray for me and my Momma
Love in Christ always
Charles Delacroix
Feast of St Cecilia
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Probated Will - "she departed this life"
Rough day ... I went to the hearing at which Mom's will was probated.
I thought at first I'd get through it OK, but then I heard a few cases before mine, and heard the judge drily stating in each case, "X departed this life on ..." giving a date.
It sounds somehow so final beyond final when a judge says "she departed this life."
Yet in 2 days it will have been exactly 3 months since she died ...
Oh Momma ... why oh why oh why did you depart this life ...
Yet I know you have departed this vale of tears for a better place ...
Fortunately, afterward, with establishment of access to Mom's estate account, I arranged to meet with a cemetery "counselor" to (hopefully) arrange a permanent marker ... permanent as things are reckoned in this life anyway.
Oh Mom I said this would be the first thing I would do when access to funding made this possible ...
And it feels so strange ... good in a way ... horrible in a way ...
Oh Momma ...
I love you Momma ...
I love you Jesus ...
Please please please O Lord ... take good care of my Momma ...
In Christ through Mary,
Charles Delacroix
Eve of the Feast of the Presentation of Our Lady
I thought at first I'd get through it OK, but then I heard a few cases before mine, and heard the judge drily stating in each case, "X departed this life on ..." giving a date.
It sounds somehow so final beyond final when a judge says "she departed this life."
Yet in 2 days it will have been exactly 3 months since she died ...
Oh Momma ... why oh why oh why did you depart this life ...
Yet I know you have departed this vale of tears for a better place ...
Fortunately, afterward, with establishment of access to Mom's estate account, I arranged to meet with a cemetery "counselor" to (hopefully) arrange a permanent marker ... permanent as things are reckoned in this life anyway.
Oh Mom I said this would be the first thing I would do when access to funding made this possible ...
And it feels so strange ... good in a way ... horrible in a way ...
Oh Momma ...
I love you Momma ...
I love you Jesus ...
Please please please O Lord ... take good care of my Momma ...
In Christ through Mary,
Charles Delacroix
Eve of the Feast of the Presentation of Our Lady
Monday, November 19, 2007
Mom's Cranberry Juice
I drank the last of Mom's cranberry juice a few days ago. I was only drinking a little every now and then; she drank several small cups a day. "It's good for me," she would say.
It was actually painful to put out the empty container in the trash can. But I've decided to get some more cranberry juice. After all, Momma, you said it's good for you. Good for me too, I think.
I love you Momma.
I love you Jesus.
Please Lord Jesus ... take good care of my Momma.
Love,
Charles Delacroix
Monday of Week 33 in Ordinary Time
It was actually painful to put out the empty container in the trash can. But I've decided to get some more cranberry juice. After all, Momma, you said it's good for you. Good for me too, I think.
I love you Momma.
I love you Jesus.
Please Lord Jesus ... take good care of my Momma.
Love,
Charles Delacroix
Monday of Week 33 in Ordinary Time
And now ... the leaves are gone ...
It was a cold, wet morning at the cemetery this morning. The clouds were heavy and grey and there was a cold sprinkle falling intermittenly through the light fog. The sun shone in the East through the clouds, though. It gave a very cold, white light.
And the trees west of Mom's grave are mostly bare now, their leaves have fallen, and they stand cold and barren.
I felt a real lightness of heart, though. As I put my coo on her marker, and drank from her tea, and drizzled three drinks of tea onto her grave, I felt both enormous sadness ... oh how I miss you Momma ... but also a strong sense of comfort from God and God's universe. I am alone, but I am not alone. The wet, damp cold to me says that all things are weeping for her loss.
There are leaves at home on the ground. I couldn't find the old plastic rake that we used at one time for raking leaves. I remember that it broke awhile back, and I've been using the garden rake instead. But now I feel a strong desire to buy a new leaf rake. Momma ... oh how I wish ou were here. Yet I know you would want the leaves raked. I'll rake them up, Momma. I promise.
I love you Momma.
I love you Jesus.
Please Lord Jesus ... take good care of my Momma.
Love,
Charles Delacroix
Monday of Week 33 in Ordinary Time
And the trees west of Mom's grave are mostly bare now, their leaves have fallen, and they stand cold and barren.
I felt a real lightness of heart, though. As I put my coo on her marker, and drank from her tea, and drizzled three drinks of tea onto her grave, I felt both enormous sadness ... oh how I miss you Momma ... but also a strong sense of comfort from God and God's universe. I am alone, but I am not alone. The wet, damp cold to me says that all things are weeping for her loss.
There are leaves at home on the ground. I couldn't find the old plastic rake that we used at one time for raking leaves. I remember that it broke awhile back, and I've been using the garden rake instead. But now I feel a strong desire to buy a new leaf rake. Momma ... oh how I wish ou were here. Yet I know you would want the leaves raked. I'll rake them up, Momma. I promise.
I love you Momma.
I love you Jesus.
Please Lord Jesus ... take good care of my Momma.
Love,
Charles Delacroix
Monday of Week 33 in Ordinary Time
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Cold Tramping through Leaves
This morning, the dog and I went walking through the leaves at Woodward Park and I was really struck both by how cold it was ... OK, it's above freezing, but for Tulsa, it's cold ... and by all the leaves, especially oak leaves, littering the lawn. Acorns covered some spots under the trees, and crunched loudly underfoot as we tramped across them.
Today I picked up my special ordered "hard copy" of Salvifici Doloris at the Bookstore along with a book about the sufferings of the Saints.
Oh how I need these things ... so much ...
I love you Lord
I love you Momma
Lord Jesus please take good good good care of my beloved Momma.
And thank you for the privilege of the gift of my Momma
In Christ,
Charles Delacroix
Feast of St Albert the Great
Today I picked up my special ordered "hard copy" of Salvifici Doloris at the Bookstore along with a book about the sufferings of the Saints.
Oh how I need these things ... so much ...
I love you Lord
I love you Momma
Lord Jesus please take good good good care of my beloved Momma.
And thank you for the privilege of the gift of my Momma
In Christ,
Charles Delacroix
Feast of St Albert the Great
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Leaves are Falling, Falling, Falling
A very cold wind this morning, blowing leaves everywhere, under grey skies. Bleak morning ... which seems to fit the bleakness inside me, and the bleakness in a world without Mom ...
The leaves are now falling in earnest now, blowing everywhere. I think of George MacDonald's Sexton who tends the dead laying on the ground like leaves till the Resurrection.
John Keats wrote of Joy and Melancholy ... that the former is to be found within the latter. I wonder and wonder and wonder why that should be ... even if I know that this is so ...
Oh Momma I miss you.
Lord Jesus Please take good care of my Momma.
I love you Momma.
I love you Jesus.
Charles Delacroix
Eve of the Feast of St Albert
The leaves are now falling in earnest now, blowing everywhere. I think of George MacDonald's Sexton who tends the dead laying on the ground like leaves till the Resurrection.
John Keats wrote of Joy and Melancholy ... that the former is to be found within the latter. I wonder and wonder and wonder why that should be ... even if I know that this is so ...
Oh Momma I miss you.
Lord Jesus Please take good care of my Momma.
I love you Momma.
I love you Jesus.
Charles Delacroix
Eve of the Feast of St Albert
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
The Veteran at the Cemetery on Veterans Day
Last night, when I went to visit Mom, I saw a man at the graveyard looking among the graves. It was early dusk, and just before I began saying the Office for the Dead, I heard Taps. There is a sound system at this cemetery that plays Taps nightly in the area reserved for the graves of fallen military personnel. When I heard Taps, I stopped and faced the flag waving above their graves and held my hand over my heart. The man I saw had also stopped his search, and was standing at attention, his right hand snapped into a full military salute, facing the flag.
After Taps, I began saying Office, and had just started Psalm 121, when this man approached me with a map of the cemetery. He said he was looking for his father's grave. We spoke briefly; he's a veteran and his father was a veteran, and on this Veteran's Day he wanted to find his father's grave. I know the cemetery fairly well in that area by now, so I'm glad that I was able to help him. He thanked me and then I resumed Office. I told Mom that I had had to stop my prayers for a veteran looking for his veteran father's grave, and that I was sure she would understand.
At that point I felt an amazing warmth in my heart. I knew that Mom would have been proud to help a soldier, any soldier, and a veteran, any veteran. And I count it a real blessing that it was during Mom's favorite Psalm ... the one she especially asked to be said at her funeral ... Psalm 121, the first in the Psalter for EP of the Office for the Dead ... during this Psalm that God granted her, and me, the privilege of helping in a very small way this man whose service to our country means so much to me, and to my Mother.
St Martin de Tours, pray for us.
After Taps, I began saying Office, and had just started Psalm 121, when this man approached me with a map of the cemetery. He said he was looking for his father's grave. We spoke briefly; he's a veteran and his father was a veteran, and on this Veteran's Day he wanted to find his father's grave. I know the cemetery fairly well in that area by now, so I'm glad that I was able to help him. He thanked me and then I resumed Office. I told Mom that I had had to stop my prayers for a veteran looking for his veteran father's grave, and that I was sure she would understand.
At that point I felt an amazing warmth in my heart. I knew that Mom would have been proud to help a soldier, any soldier, and a veteran, any veteran. And I count it a real blessing that it was during Mom's favorite Psalm ... the one she especially asked to be said at her funeral ... Psalm 121, the first in the Psalter for EP of the Office for the Dead ... during this Psalm that God granted her, and me, the privilege of helping in a very small way this man whose service to our country means so much to me, and to my Mother.
St Martin de Tours, pray for us.
Monday, November 12, 2007
A Walk Down E. 32nd Place
I got a call from the dentist's office reminding me that Mom had a dental appointment tomorrow. I felt this enormous feeling of hopelessness as I told the person calling that Mom has died. The caller was very kind but oh ... oh ... oh ... what difference does anything make ...
I took photos of Grampa's old duck call and his old turkey call, and the dog and I went for another walk in Woodward Park ... and then I had the notion of going for a walk on E 32nd Place. We parked and walked down this wonderful old street full of feeling memories ... past hte house we lived in back in the early 1960s ... then past a telephone pole at the end of the street that looked like it could have been, back in about 1964 or so, the device in which I managed to shock myself so badly my thumb was split open. I ran home crying to Momma then ... and she made it all better of course ...
Gone ... gone ... gone ... yes gone ....
Oh Lord Oh Lord Oh Lord ... please take good care of my Momma ... please please please ...
I love you Momma
I love you Lord.
Thank you Lord for my Momma.
Love in Christ,
Charles Delacroix
Feast of St Josaphat
I took photos of Grampa's old duck call and his old turkey call, and the dog and I went for another walk in Woodward Park ... and then I had the notion of going for a walk on E 32nd Place. We parked and walked down this wonderful old street full of feeling memories ... past hte house we lived in back in the early 1960s ... then past a telephone pole at the end of the street that looked like it could have been, back in about 1964 or so, the device in which I managed to shock myself so badly my thumb was split open. I ran home crying to Momma then ... and she made it all better of course ...
Gone ... gone ... gone ... yes gone ....
Oh Lord Oh Lord Oh Lord ... please take good care of my Momma ... please please please ...
I love you Momma
I love you Lord.
Thank you Lord for my Momma.
Love in Christ,
Charles Delacroix
Feast of St Josaphat
The End of Unconditional Love
I had a rough morning ... driving to Woodward Park, I passed a building that has Christmas lights out on display. Ouch ... then the dog and I went for a walk, and returned home, and I visited Mom's grave ... and at home took a call from a cousin who asked, not unkindly but sincerely, "you're not doing nothing, are you? I mean you have to be doing something ...?" I replied ... and then felt enormous emptiness and guilt and shame ... and realized that one of the things I miss most with the loss of Mom is that she was always there to console and reassure and tell me she loved me no matter what ... the closest thing to unconditional love I have ever been graced to meet in this world ... and now ... and now she's gone ...
Yes Jesus is hte Only True Unconditional Love
But Oh how I miss Mom telling me how much she loved me ... and that "whatever happens, I will always be your mother, and you will always be my son." The words seemed to say that anyone can say anything they like but this love and this relationship are forever and untouchable by any of the horrible challenges of this world.
Oh Lord ... please take good care of my Momma ... please please please ...
I love you Momma
I love you Lord.
Thank you Lord for my Momma.
Love in Christ,
Charles Delacroix
Feast of St Josaphat
Yes Jesus is hte Only True Unconditional Love
But Oh how I miss Mom telling me how much she loved me ... and that "whatever happens, I will always be your mother, and you will always be my son." The words seemed to say that anyone can say anything they like but this love and this relationship are forever and untouchable by any of the horrible challenges of this world.
Oh Lord ... please take good care of my Momma ... please please please ...
I love you Momma
I love you Lord.
Thank you Lord for my Momma.
Love in Christ,
Charles Delacroix
Feast of St Josaphat
Sunday, November 11, 2007
Denouement Then, Denouement Now
I've been having a rough time for the past few days. The Autumn colors, the Autumn feel in the air, the approach of Thanksgiving and Christmas Season ... all seem to be crying out to me yet again that se's gone ... she's not sere ... she's gone ... never again ... never again to enjoy the colors with her ... never again to talk about the holidays ... never again ... ne plus jamais ...
Then this morning I was reading about today's celebration of Veterans Day - Armistice Day of old; Remembrance Day in the Commonwealth. I watched The Longest Day http://imdb.com/title/tt0056197/ and The Best Years of Our Lives http://imdb.com/title/tt0036868/ last night, shown by the OETA (PBS) Movie Club to commemorate Veterans Day. Oh Mom ... we would have talked about these movies ... these are you ... and Dad.
Today is also the Feast of St Martin de Tours, most admirable of soldier heroes in my book. But I went back and read the OOR 2nd Reading for OT yesterday. Yesterday was actually the Feast of Pope St Leo the Great, and I used the OOR from the Proper yesterday, but I was drawn by the title of the OT's OOR 2nd Reading for yesterday ... alas I can't find it at the moment, my DO is out in the truck ... but it was St Ambrose talking about Death and Dying ... and celebrating both as God's doorway to Life. And I thought, "So ... even now ... is Denouement. I thought of Denouement in connection with Mom's earthly decline for so long I think I've too often plain forgotten that my whole life is a Holy Saturday pilgrimage that is its own Denouement.
If I just remember O Lord that here I have no lasting place, that Mom has simply preceded me on a journey that is mine as well, if I just remember that I am living even now, here and now, Denouement ... well, things don't seem so very bad after all.
And yet ... Oh Mom how I miss you. How I miss you. O Lord may I see her again. The sooner the better if it be according to your will O lord.
And My Lord please please please please please ... take good care of my dear, dear, dear, dear Momma.
I love you Momma.
I love you Lord.
Love in Christ,
Charles Delacroix
Sunday 32 in Ordinary Time
Feast of St Martin de Tours
Then this morning I was reading about today's celebration of Veterans Day - Armistice Day of old; Remembrance Day in the Commonwealth. I watched The Longest Day http://imdb.com/title/tt0056197/ and The Best Years of Our Lives http://imdb.com/title/tt0036868/ last night, shown by the OETA (PBS) Movie Club to commemorate Veterans Day. Oh Mom ... we would have talked about these movies ... these are you ... and Dad.
Today is also the Feast of St Martin de Tours, most admirable of soldier heroes in my book. But I went back and read the OOR 2nd Reading for OT yesterday. Yesterday was actually the Feast of Pope St Leo the Great, and I used the OOR from the Proper yesterday, but I was drawn by the title of the OT's OOR 2nd Reading for yesterday ... alas I can't find it at the moment, my DO is out in the truck ... but it was St Ambrose talking about Death and Dying ... and celebrating both as God's doorway to Life. And I thought, "So ... even now ... is Denouement. I thought of Denouement in connection with Mom's earthly decline for so long I think I've too often plain forgotten that my whole life is a Holy Saturday pilgrimage that is its own Denouement.
If I just remember O Lord that here I have no lasting place, that Mom has simply preceded me on a journey that is mine as well, if I just remember that I am living even now, here and now, Denouement ... well, things don't seem so very bad after all.
And yet ... Oh Mom how I miss you. How I miss you. O Lord may I see her again. The sooner the better if it be according to your will O lord.
And My Lord please please please please please ... take good care of my dear, dear, dear, dear Momma.
I love you Momma.
I love you Lord.
Love in Christ,
Charles Delacroix
Sunday 32 in Ordinary Time
Feast of St Martin de Tours
Thursday, November 8, 2007
Michael Clayton's Story ... and Denouement
I saw Michael Clayton for the second time in 2 days today. This is perhaps my 3rd or 4th time since it opened about 3 weeks ago. See http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0465538/
And I left with such a deep sense of gratitude. For the Story for one thing. I love Story. It helps me to keep things in perspective. When I see someone else's Story I guess it reminds me that I ... and Mom ... and everyone else ... has a Story as well. And all Story is really an Ikon of The Story of Stories: that of Adam and of the Second Adam.
But also this amazing vision of a man who in so many ways is a loser. Who does what he needs to do in response to a Summons that he initially believes to be the ravings of a madman, and which he subsequently embraces in response to a conversion experience when he has a sort of Trinitarian encounter with a triad of horses. It's sort of a willful turning away from limitations of this world, to a narrow way that could feel like a different sort of limitations.
Still the end of the movie shows a man who has, by his choice, ended his own life as he knew it. He's frightened, astonished, relieved, energized, confused. And what's next? We don't know.
I went on to the Cathedral Chapel where I did another Way of the Cross for the Bereaved. And thought some more of Michael Clayton. And what was to become of him.
And the word that came to my mind was Denouement.
I remember last Winter/Spring that horrible word came to my mind again and again in connection with Mom. Oh how I miss her ... but even then I knew I was acting out, and she was acting out, a Denouement.
And now what am I facing but a different kind of Denouement.
My Denouement.
Painful thought but also kind of liberating.
Denouement.
"For to me to live is Christ and to die is gain." Phil. 1:21. St Paul's words could be mine and every Christian's of course.
"Far be it for me to glory except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ by which the world has been crucified to me and me to the world." Gal 6:14. Yes ... how else indeed.
Oh Mom how I miss you ... yet in my Denouement perhaps I can see an opportunity to live toward your Denouement.
Sleepy ... time for me to go to sleep.
Oh Mom how I miss you and love you.
Oh Lord Jesus how I love you and I beg you ... take good care of my dear Momma, O Lord, please, please, please ...
I love you Lord.
Charles Delacroix
Eve of the Feast of the Dedication of Basilica St John Lateran
And I left with such a deep sense of gratitude. For the Story for one thing. I love Story. It helps me to keep things in perspective. When I see someone else's Story I guess it reminds me that I ... and Mom ... and everyone else ... has a Story as well. And all Story is really an Ikon of The Story of Stories: that of Adam and of the Second Adam.
But also this amazing vision of a man who in so many ways is a loser. Who does what he needs to do in response to a Summons that he initially believes to be the ravings of a madman, and which he subsequently embraces in response to a conversion experience when he has a sort of Trinitarian encounter with a triad of horses. It's sort of a willful turning away from limitations of this world, to a narrow way that could feel like a different sort of limitations.
Still the end of the movie shows a man who has, by his choice, ended his own life as he knew it. He's frightened, astonished, relieved, energized, confused. And what's next? We don't know.
I went on to the Cathedral Chapel where I did another Way of the Cross for the Bereaved. And thought some more of Michael Clayton. And what was to become of him.
And the word that came to my mind was Denouement.
I remember last Winter/Spring that horrible word came to my mind again and again in connection with Mom. Oh how I miss her ... but even then I knew I was acting out, and she was acting out, a Denouement.
And now what am I facing but a different kind of Denouement.
My Denouement.
Painful thought but also kind of liberating.
Denouement.
"For to me to live is Christ and to die is gain." Phil. 1:21. St Paul's words could be mine and every Christian's of course.
"Far be it for me to glory except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ by which the world has been crucified to me and me to the world." Gal 6:14. Yes ... how else indeed.
Oh Mom how I miss you ... yet in my Denouement perhaps I can see an opportunity to live toward your Denouement.
Sleepy ... time for me to go to sleep.
Oh Mom how I miss you and love you.
Oh Lord Jesus how I love you and I beg you ... take good care of my dear Momma, O Lord, please, please, please ...
I love you Lord.
Charles Delacroix
Eve of the Feast of the Dedication of Basilica St John Lateran
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
First Frost
There was frost on the front and back lawns this morning. Beautiful, delicate white in the pre-dawn light. Lovely. Mom would have loved it. Oh Momma ...
The dog and I went to Woodward Park as usual. There are some extraordinary Maples alone the way, turning from green to blazing red without any pause for yellow in between. The dog and I parked in our "usual place" in the Rose Garden parking lot. The sun had just risen and was flashing beautiful yellow light in the east that looked for some reason so very, very kind. Thank you, Father Sun. Thank you God.
The frost is a light frost ... I think a sign I saw driving over there said it's 34 deg, so just above freezing. No frost under the trees, but the broad grassy lawns in the middle of the Rose Gardens were cloaked in the lightest, most sparkling frost. A few bushes held a light, light dusting of white on their upper, horizontally pleached surfaces.
All of this Mom would have loved. And I love these things too. And I thank you God for these Your Gifts. But a part of me still wonders why there should be anything so beautiful if Momma is not here.
Mom, the dog and I took a cold walk this morning, but of course she loved it: with that thick fur, she seemed either indifferent or positively delighted by the cold. We walked under the oak trees in the Park. There are oak leaves and acorns littering the lawn everywhere. I thought that we would see no squirrels, or very few, like yesterday morning, but I was wrong: Spooky jerked the leash and took off after one, then another, then another ... and had a wonderful time chasing squirrels. They all seemed to be up on the sides of the trees, and not on the ground, though. I wonder if the cold dampness of the ground discouraged them from coming down from the trees. But then I wonder why the bark would be less cold. Surely it's less damp, though. In any event, Spooky and I had a good walk, Momma. You would have loved to see her chasing after those squirrels, If you can, even now, O Momma, how I miss sharing this with you.
I am coming this morning to see you at the cemetery, Momma. It's cold, so I may stop at your grave only long enough to put a coo on your marker and talk with you and give you a few drops of nice, hot tea. Then I'll probably have to go back to the truck where it's warm to say the Office for you.
Oh Momma how I miss you. You loved Fall. I can hope you love Fall still. But Oh how I wish you and I could enjoy Fall together once more.
Thy Will Not Mine Be Done, O Lord.
Please help me to do what I do not want to do.
Please help me to pick up this Cross and take it with me on yet another day without Momma.
Please please please take good care of my Momma, Lord.
I love you Momma.
I love you Lord.
Charles Delacroix
Wednesday of the 31st Week in Ordinary Time
The dog and I went to Woodward Park as usual. There are some extraordinary Maples alone the way, turning from green to blazing red without any pause for yellow in between. The dog and I parked in our "usual place" in the Rose Garden parking lot. The sun had just risen and was flashing beautiful yellow light in the east that looked for some reason so very, very kind. Thank you, Father Sun. Thank you God.
The frost is a light frost ... I think a sign I saw driving over there said it's 34 deg, so just above freezing. No frost under the trees, but the broad grassy lawns in the middle of the Rose Gardens were cloaked in the lightest, most sparkling frost. A few bushes held a light, light dusting of white on their upper, horizontally pleached surfaces.
All of this Mom would have loved. And I love these things too. And I thank you God for these Your Gifts. But a part of me still wonders why there should be anything so beautiful if Momma is not here.
Mom, the dog and I took a cold walk this morning, but of course she loved it: with that thick fur, she seemed either indifferent or positively delighted by the cold. We walked under the oak trees in the Park. There are oak leaves and acorns littering the lawn everywhere. I thought that we would see no squirrels, or very few, like yesterday morning, but I was wrong: Spooky jerked the leash and took off after one, then another, then another ... and had a wonderful time chasing squirrels. They all seemed to be up on the sides of the trees, and not on the ground, though. I wonder if the cold dampness of the ground discouraged them from coming down from the trees. But then I wonder why the bark would be less cold. Surely it's less damp, though. In any event, Spooky and I had a good walk, Momma. You would have loved to see her chasing after those squirrels, If you can, even now, O Momma, how I miss sharing this with you.
I am coming this morning to see you at the cemetery, Momma. It's cold, so I may stop at your grave only long enough to put a coo on your marker and talk with you and give you a few drops of nice, hot tea. Then I'll probably have to go back to the truck where it's warm to say the Office for you.
Oh Momma how I miss you. You loved Fall. I can hope you love Fall still. But Oh how I wish you and I could enjoy Fall together once more.
Thy Will Not Mine Be Done, O Lord.
Please help me to do what I do not want to do.
Please help me to pick up this Cross and take it with me on yet another day without Momma.
Please please please take good care of my Momma, Lord.
I love you Momma.
I love you Lord.
Charles Delacroix
Wednesday of the 31st Week in Ordinary Time
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
Christmas Already Approaching
I saw decorations prominently displayed in stores yesterday.
And this Friday two movies set at Christmas time will open. Fred Claus & P2.
You will not be here. At least not as before.
Oh Lord.
Oh Momma.
What is there to say.
Time goes on. And htis Cross is so heavy.
Oh Lord Jesus please take good care of my Momma.
Charles Delacroix
Tuesday of 31st Week in Ordinary Time
And this Friday two movies set at Christmas time will open. Fred Claus & P2.
You will not be here. At least not as before.
Oh Lord.
Oh Momma.
What is there to say.
Time goes on. And htis Cross is so heavy.
Oh Lord Jesus please take good care of my Momma.
Charles Delacroix
Tuesday of 31st Week in Ordinary Time
Leaves are Falling
I was amazed this morning how much leaves have been changing, even in the past few days.
Here in Oklahoma, trees seem to have been holding off on Autumn till last week, when leaves began changing. Now they are changing ... and falling ... in earnest.
Leaves on the lawn ... leaves on the ground at Woodward Park. I crunched and crunched as the dog and I strolled in the park. It was the coldest morning yet, too. Low 40s. I only saw one squirrel.
Leaves are changing and I can only wish you were here with me to see, Momma. You and I would talk and talk about the leaves, wouldn't we. Even the little tree in the back yard is shedding leaves.
I love you Momma.
I love you Jesus.
Please take good, good care of my Momma, Lord Jesus.
Love,
Charles Delacroix
Tuesday of the 31st Week of Ordinary Time
Here in Oklahoma, trees seem to have been holding off on Autumn till last week, when leaves began changing. Now they are changing ... and falling ... in earnest.
Leaves on the lawn ... leaves on the ground at Woodward Park. I crunched and crunched as the dog and I strolled in the park. It was the coldest morning yet, too. Low 40s. I only saw one squirrel.
Leaves are changing and I can only wish you were here with me to see, Momma. You and I would talk and talk about the leaves, wouldn't we. Even the little tree in the back yard is shedding leaves.
I love you Momma.
I love you Jesus.
Please take good, good care of my Momma, Lord Jesus.
Love,
Charles Delacroix
Tuesday of the 31st Week of Ordinary Time
Monday, November 5, 2007
The Cross
What tends to challenge me most these days is the Call of Christ to Surrender ... everything. Including, in my case, my own natural family.
There's no question of what is being asked. Of me, as of all of us. I am to take up my Cross daily (Lk 9) and Follow Christ, surrendering my own life and more (Mt 16) and this can and does extend to my natural family (Lk 14).
My mother died on August 22.
And I miss her so much.
Every day, sometimes every hour, every minute.
There's nothing wrong with this of course. But there's a big, big part of me that plain doesn't want to take up this Cross daily. There's a big part of me that really doesn't want to hurt. That plain doesn't want to surrender my Mom to God.
Yet she belongs to Him. She has always belonged to him. All things, all people, are His. Not mine. His. And He loves my Mom from all eternity with an infinite love that is infinitely greater than anything I can every know.
And yet ... and yet ... sometimes I find myself crying and crying and calling out, "Come back, O come back."
I know she's not coming back. Not in the sense in which she was here before, anyway. And when I really think of it, what a cruel thing to wish on her ... on anyone who has passed on to a better place, to ask her to come back. God loves her and will take care of her with His infinite love. The Office for the Dead is full of readings affirming this.
But if she is to live in Him she had to die here. Die to me. And when she died, a big, big part of me died. And still dies. Every day I die. My heart aches, my whole being feels the weight of the Cross, and I am bid to bear that which I do not want to bear at all.
Still, isn't that what it really means to bear a Cross. When Jesus bore His Cross, there's no indication that he wanted to bear it. He certainly willed himself to Bear It, as He willed Himself to Die for us. From all eternity this was God's will: that Jesus should die for us in the great Sacrifice that is re-presented in each Eucharistic Sacrifice of the Mass. But Jesus, True God and True Man, suffering and falling three times on His Way of the Cross, surely did not, humanly speaking, want the pain and suffering. Yet He chose pain and suffering. He took up His Cross.
And now asks me to take up mine.
Oh Lord, Just for Today, I ask you to give me the strength to do what I really don't want to do.
Just for Today, I beg You to go before me Bearing Your Great Cross and showing me the Way for me to bear my little Cross.
Oh Lord it doesn't really feel like such a little Cross yet I know my Cross is but a handful of slivers from Your Own Cross.
Oh Lord help me surrender my dear mother into Your Loving Care
Oh Lord help me to die daily to myself and live to you daily.
Oh Lord help me to remember that for me as for us all, as for St Paul, for me to live is Christ and to die is gain
Oh Lord help me to Follow You on the Way of Your Cross
Lord Jesus Christ help me to remember that here I have no lasting place
Lord Jesus Christ help me to find in Your Cross everything that matters in this world or the next
Lord Jesus, Man of Sorrows, help me to lay my own Sorrows at the Foot of Your Cross
Holy Mary, Mother of Sorrows, help me to find in Your Son my mother now passed away and gone from this world
Holy Mary, Mother of Sorrows, help me to find in Your Son all my brothers and sisters in the Church, my true mother on earth
Oh Mary accept into your maternal care my dear mother
And Oh my dear Lord please take good care of my dear Mother
And dear Lord please take good care of me
Lord help me to embrace Your Cross that is the Tree of Death and the Tree of Life
Oh Lord let me find in Your Cross, along with St John of the Cross, everything and nothing, all that is and all that is not.
Oh Lord let me find in You all that is You and in You all my brothers and sisters in this world and the next
Oh Lord let me find in You You and in You my Mother
Oh Lord let Your Will Not Mine be done now and always
Just for today.
Love in Christ,
Charles Delacroix
Monday of the 31st Week in Ordinary Time
There's no question of what is being asked. Of me, as of all of us. I am to take up my Cross daily (Lk 9) and Follow Christ, surrendering my own life and more (Mt 16) and this can and does extend to my natural family (Lk 14).
My mother died on August 22.
And I miss her so much.
Every day, sometimes every hour, every minute.
There's nothing wrong with this of course. But there's a big, big part of me that plain doesn't want to take up this Cross daily. There's a big part of me that really doesn't want to hurt. That plain doesn't want to surrender my Mom to God.
Yet she belongs to Him. She has always belonged to him. All things, all people, are His. Not mine. His. And He loves my Mom from all eternity with an infinite love that is infinitely greater than anything I can every know.
And yet ... and yet ... sometimes I find myself crying and crying and calling out, "Come back, O come back."
I know she's not coming back. Not in the sense in which she was here before, anyway. And when I really think of it, what a cruel thing to wish on her ... on anyone who has passed on to a better place, to ask her to come back. God loves her and will take care of her with His infinite love. The Office for the Dead is full of readings affirming this.
But if she is to live in Him she had to die here. Die to me. And when she died, a big, big part of me died. And still dies. Every day I die. My heart aches, my whole being feels the weight of the Cross, and I am bid to bear that which I do not want to bear at all.
Still, isn't that what it really means to bear a Cross. When Jesus bore His Cross, there's no indication that he wanted to bear it. He certainly willed himself to Bear It, as He willed Himself to Die for us. From all eternity this was God's will: that Jesus should die for us in the great Sacrifice that is re-presented in each Eucharistic Sacrifice of the Mass. But Jesus, True God and True Man, suffering and falling three times on His Way of the Cross, surely did not, humanly speaking, want the pain and suffering. Yet He chose pain and suffering. He took up His Cross.
And now asks me to take up mine.
Oh Lord, Just for Today, I ask you to give me the strength to do what I really don't want to do.
Just for Today, I beg You to go before me Bearing Your Great Cross and showing me the Way for me to bear my little Cross.
Oh Lord it doesn't really feel like such a little Cross yet I know my Cross is but a handful of slivers from Your Own Cross.
Oh Lord help me surrender my dear mother into Your Loving Care
Oh Lord help me to die daily to myself and live to you daily.
Oh Lord help me to remember that for me as for us all, as for St Paul, for me to live is Christ and to die is gain
Oh Lord help me to Follow You on the Way of Your Cross
Lord Jesus Christ help me to remember that here I have no lasting place
Lord Jesus Christ help me to find in Your Cross everything that matters in this world or the next
Lord Jesus, Man of Sorrows, help me to lay my own Sorrows at the Foot of Your Cross
Holy Mary, Mother of Sorrows, help me to find in Your Son my mother now passed away and gone from this world
Holy Mary, Mother of Sorrows, help me to find in Your Son all my brothers and sisters in the Church, my true mother on earth
Oh Mary accept into your maternal care my dear mother
And Oh my dear Lord please take good care of my dear Mother
And dear Lord please take good care of me
Lord help me to embrace Your Cross that is the Tree of Death and the Tree of Life
Oh Lord let me find in Your Cross, along with St John of the Cross, everything and nothing, all that is and all that is not.
Oh Lord let me find in You all that is You and in You all my brothers and sisters in this world and the next
Oh Lord let me find in You You and in You my Mother
Oh Lord let Your Will Not Mine be done now and always
Just for today.
Love in Christ,
Charles Delacroix
Monday of the 31st Week in Ordinary Time
Saturday, November 3, 2007
Frank Sinatra
Tonite is Saturday night ... and as usual I am watching TV especially with Mom in mind. For we often watched things together on TVon Saturday nights.
Friends was on earlier; MASH is on now. And both of us loved both of these wonderful series.
But PBS/OETA-TV has a Frank Sinatra special on tonite.
And I know ... I know she would simply love this program. Very Sinatra. Very old-time. Very, very much the kind of show she would love.
Oh Mom I hope you can see it now ... and enjoy it now ... as I know you are enjoying all that God has to offer ... and I have been told that nothing good shall be lost ... so how could God not share with you a Frank Sinatra show?
I love you Momma and miss you so much.
I love you Lord Jesus
Please please please ... take good care of my Momma.
Love,
Charles Delacroix
Feast of St Martin de Porres.
Friends was on earlier; MASH is on now. And both of us loved both of these wonderful series.
But PBS/OETA-TV has a Frank Sinatra special on tonite.
And I know ... I know she would simply love this program. Very Sinatra. Very old-time. Very, very much the kind of show she would love.
Oh Mom I hope you can see it now ... and enjoy it now ... as I know you are enjoying all that God has to offer ... and I have been told that nothing good shall be lost ... so how could God not share with you a Frank Sinatra show?
I love you Momma and miss you so much.
I love you Lord Jesus
Please please please ... take good care of my Momma.
Love,
Charles Delacroix
Feast of St Martin de Porres.
She Gave the Most Thoughtful Gifts
She gave me that felt hat I mentioned in my last post ... about 20 or so years ago. The hat looks like an Indiana Jones hat, or perhaps a Humphrey Bogart hat. I remember saying to her, while we were watching one or the other of those movies, that I really had to get a "hat like that." I was laughing, and she was laughing too. But I meant it.
And she went out of her way to get me ... a "hat like that."
She did this kind of thing so many times.
I told her how much I valued a certain book from childhood that was long lost. The Story about Ping, by Marjorie Flack, pictures by the great Kurt Wiese. I have that book before me now. Because she got a replica copy somehow, from somewhere. She must have ordered it from a used book dealer.
After my father died, his widow (he had remarried) asked me if there was anything of his that I wanted. I said just one thing, and one thing only, really: A large coffee-table book replete with Bill Mauldin's WWII cartoons. My father and I had few happy memories. But one happy memory we had: our shared delight in Bill Mauldin. Dad had to explain him to me, of course. But I learned and laughed. Well, after the funeral, his widow said that they had been unable to find this book. I was keenly disappointed. So Mom ... Mom ordered a replica copy. It was exactly the same as the lost Bill Mauldin book.
Mom had the grace to even get something for me when she knew I would like it, even when she herself didn't understand it and perhaps didn't entirely sympathize with it. For example, after moving away from my Methodist roots, in an evolution that would take me to Roman Catholicism, I valued on this path C.S. Lewis very much. Mom knew this; knew I loved Lewis; and ordered me a really nice hard-back edition of Lewis' Mere Christianity ... one of my favorite Lewis books.
She did this kind of thing all her life. For me, and for others. In fact, I simply don't know now, and have never known, anyone more generous, kind, and thoughtful in her gifts.
Oh Momma how I miss you. How I miss you.
I love you.
Please Lord take good, good care of my dear Momma.
Charles Delacroix
Feast of St Martin de Porres
And she went out of her way to get me ... a "hat like that."
She did this kind of thing so many times.
I told her how much I valued a certain book from childhood that was long lost. The Story about Ping, by Marjorie Flack, pictures by the great Kurt Wiese. I have that book before me now. Because she got a replica copy somehow, from somewhere. She must have ordered it from a used book dealer.
After my father died, his widow (he had remarried) asked me if there was anything of his that I wanted. I said just one thing, and one thing only, really: A large coffee-table book replete with Bill Mauldin's WWII cartoons. My father and I had few happy memories. But one happy memory we had: our shared delight in Bill Mauldin. Dad had to explain him to me, of course. But I learned and laughed. Well, after the funeral, his widow said that they had been unable to find this book. I was keenly disappointed. So Mom ... Mom ordered a replica copy. It was exactly the same as the lost Bill Mauldin book.
Mom had the grace to even get something for me when she knew I would like it, even when she herself didn't understand it and perhaps didn't entirely sympathize with it. For example, after moving away from my Methodist roots, in an evolution that would take me to Roman Catholicism, I valued on this path C.S. Lewis very much. Mom knew this; knew I loved Lewis; and ordered me a really nice hard-back edition of Lewis' Mere Christianity ... one of my favorite Lewis books.
She did this kind of thing all her life. For me, and for others. In fact, I simply don't know now, and have never known, anyone more generous, kind, and thoughtful in her gifts.
Oh Momma how I miss you. How I miss you.
I love you.
Please Lord take good, good care of my dear Momma.
Charles Delacroix
Feast of St Martin de Porres
Treasure
I was putting my bedding up in a closet, and just happened to glance down and see a box.
A box that I must have seen a thousand times but this time I noticed it.
Well, I opened it ... and found Treasure.
No, not the kind that involves dollar signs. The kind that is real Treasure. The kind that has meaning. That means something to me; to my Mother; to my grandfather. Therefore to God.
A shoebox containing things that belonged to my maternal grandfather: a duck call made by him. A turkey call made by him. One of his old small-game traps. His old pocket knife. His old stop watch.
I was ... and am ... simply tickled. Wholly delighted.
There was an old felt hat that Mom had bought for me.
Pictures from our travels in Europe.
Memorabilia - odds and ends - from our time in Tripoli, from my Scouting days.
Including a Cub Scout memorabilia banner put together by my dear mother.
Oh Momma ... how I miss you ... how I miss you ... but what wonders you ... and your father ... gave to me ... what treasures you gave me.
I love you Momma.
I love you Lord Jesus.
And Lord Jesus ... please please please take good care of my Momma.
Charles Delacroix
Feast of St Martin de Porres
A box that I must have seen a thousand times but this time I noticed it.
Well, I opened it ... and found Treasure.
No, not the kind that involves dollar signs. The kind that is real Treasure. The kind that has meaning. That means something to me; to my Mother; to my grandfather. Therefore to God.
A shoebox containing things that belonged to my maternal grandfather: a duck call made by him. A turkey call made by him. One of his old small-game traps. His old pocket knife. His old stop watch.
I was ... and am ... simply tickled. Wholly delighted.
There was an old felt hat that Mom had bought for me.
Pictures from our travels in Europe.
Memorabilia - odds and ends - from our time in Tripoli, from my Scouting days.
Including a Cub Scout memorabilia banner put together by my dear mother.
Oh Momma ... how I miss you ... how I miss you ... but what wonders you ... and your father ... gave to me ... what treasures you gave me.
I love you Momma.
I love you Lord Jesus.
And Lord Jesus ... please please please take good care of my Momma.
Charles Delacroix
Feast of St Martin de Porres
Friday, November 2, 2007
Dies Irae
The Roman Breviary for the Feast of All Souls allows use of the hymn Dies Irae during all hours of the Feast day. I said it in Latin, since it was in Latin in my Office, but I didn't know Latin well enough to understand it. I just looked it up and was deeply moved. http://www.franciscan-archive.org/de_celano/opera/diesirae.html. Yes, Lord Jesus ...
"Kneeling and bowed down I pray,
My heart contrite as ashes:
Do Thou {, my End,} care for my end.
"That sorrowful day,
on which will arise from the buring coals
Man accused to be judged:
therefore, O God, do Thou spare him.
"Faithful Lord Jesus,
grant them rest.
Amen
"O Thou, God of Majesty,
nourishing brillance of the Trinity,
join us with the Blessed. Amen."
Amen indeed, O "nourishing brilliance of the Trinity"
"Kneeling and bowed down I pray,
My heart contrite as ashes:
Do Thou {, my End,} care for my end.
"That sorrowful day,
on which will arise from the buring coals
Man accused to be judged:
therefore, O God, do Thou spare him.
"Faithful Lord Jesus,
grant them rest.
Amen
"O Thou, God of Majesty,
nourishing brillance of the Trinity,
join us with the Blessed. Amen."
Amen indeed, O "nourishing brilliance of the Trinity"
Feast of All Souls
What a day ... first here's a link someone else posted to the Mass announcement for today at Westminster Cathedral. What a moving, lovely views of the interior of the Cathedral and the Holy Souls Chapel. See http://westminstercathedral.blogspot.com/2007/11/mass-for-holy-souls.html
I prayed the All Souls offices, mostly taken from the Office for the Dead, starting with MP this morning, and later OOR and EP in the evening. I thought the 2nd Reading, from St Ambrose, speaking on the occasion of the death of his brother, was so very moving. http://www.universalis.com/20071102/readings.htm.
After MP, I drove to the attorney's office to sign the Petition for entering Mom's will into probate. I cried and cried all the way there, and cried and cried after I left. Oh Momma ... after I left the attorney's office, I went to Philbrook Art Museum to spend some time with some of the beautiful and moving works of sacred art in their Italian gallery. Then I went to see a movie, then went to do clinical supervision of a supervisee, and then to the Cathedral. There I was able by God's Grace to say the Way of the Cross for the Bereaved in the chapel. On this day I prayed especially for blessings for my dear mother ... and, if she is able to do so, I asked for her prayers as well.
At home tonite I finished cutting the pumpkin meat out of the jack o'lantern from Halloween. Wow, I had no idea how much would come out of one pumpkin. I took some pieces and cooked them in the microwave with some pumkin spice, cinnamon, and brown sugar, and really enjoyed just eating the cooked pumpkin pieces. Whether this was OK or not I guess I'll find out. If I die tonite of food poisoning I beg God to take me at once to the company of my Momma.
Oh Lord. Oh Lord. Oh Lord. Please ... whatever happens, whatever happens to me, whatever else may take place, please please please take good care of my Momma ...
Love,
Charles Delacroix
Feast of All Souls
I prayed the All Souls offices, mostly taken from the Office for the Dead, starting with MP this morning, and later OOR and EP in the evening. I thought the 2nd Reading, from St Ambrose, speaking on the occasion of the death of his brother, was so very moving. http://www.universalis.com/20071102/readings.htm.
After MP, I drove to the attorney's office to sign the Petition for entering Mom's will into probate. I cried and cried all the way there, and cried and cried after I left. Oh Momma ... after I left the attorney's office, I went to Philbrook Art Museum to spend some time with some of the beautiful and moving works of sacred art in their Italian gallery. Then I went to see a movie, then went to do clinical supervision of a supervisee, and then to the Cathedral. There I was able by God's Grace to say the Way of the Cross for the Bereaved in the chapel. On this day I prayed especially for blessings for my dear mother ... and, if she is able to do so, I asked for her prayers as well.
At home tonite I finished cutting the pumpkin meat out of the jack o'lantern from Halloween. Wow, I had no idea how much would come out of one pumpkin. I took some pieces and cooked them in the microwave with some pumkin spice, cinnamon, and brown sugar, and really enjoyed just eating the cooked pumpkin pieces. Whether this was OK or not I guess I'll find out. If I die tonite of food poisoning I beg God to take me at once to the company of my Momma.
Oh Lord. Oh Lord. Oh Lord. Please ... whatever happens, whatever happens to me, whatever else may take place, please please please take good care of my Momma ...
Love,
Charles Delacroix
Feast of All Souls
Thursday, November 1, 2007
The Leaves are Turning
Just within the past few days the leaves have started falling more. Most trees are still green. But autumn is in the air ... and Momma is not here to enjoy the Fall ... Oh Lord ... Oh Momma ...
Mom's Kitchen ... and Me
I went through Mom's kitchen a bit better this morning, partly looking for things to use in processing the pumpkin to make a pumpkin pie.
I kept seeing things that bring back such memories. A beat up old cookie sheet that has held so many, so many cookies made by Mom, that I've eaten so many times ... cookie cutters that Mom' used to make Christmas cookies ... skillets belonging to Mom and to her Mom ... glasses and flatware and teacups and a Mason jar ... all that Mom used ...
One thing I didn't find that I was hoping to find was an electric mixer that she used to use especially when making icing for cake. Oh my ... how many times as a kid she would whirr and whirr that thing and then disconnect one of the rotors, and hand it to me with a big big smile ... I would take it and lick it clean of icing ... oh my ...
I found several tea pots that had one thing or another broken ... Mom used so many little teapots and a handle or a spout would break every now and then.
I found a big big pot that I can remember Mom using whenever she was boiling water for spaghetti. Ah ... her spaghetti was served with the most meaty spaghetti sauce that I've ever had the deep pleasure of enjoying ...
I finally ran by Walmart with the dog after we went for a walk this evening ... and I bought a potato masher to use when mashing up the pumpkin meat. I looked up and down the aisle at the kitchenware and cooking ware and thought about getting some more things to try in the future ... and then I went home and boiled some hot water for fettucine. I think I must be getting more domestic by the day sometimes. It really felt good to go home and make this simple fettucine dish.
I'll never forget quoting Samuel Johnson to Mom once ... Johnson said that to be happy at home is the end of all human endeavor (or something like that). Mom agreed wholeheartedly.
My oh my oh my ... how I miss you dear Momma ... oh I never ever ever went hungry in your household ... but what you fed us was so much more than just food ... you served everything with you love ... and that nourished us more than anything else ...
I love you Momma.
Jesus I love you Lord. Please please please take good care of my Momma.
And may all the angels and saints intercede for Mom and for me on this special, special day.
Love in Christ,
Charles Delacroix
Feast of All Saints.
I kept seeing things that bring back such memories. A beat up old cookie sheet that has held so many, so many cookies made by Mom, that I've eaten so many times ... cookie cutters that Mom' used to make Christmas cookies ... skillets belonging to Mom and to her Mom ... glasses and flatware and teacups and a Mason jar ... all that Mom used ...
One thing I didn't find that I was hoping to find was an electric mixer that she used to use especially when making icing for cake. Oh my ... how many times as a kid she would whirr and whirr that thing and then disconnect one of the rotors, and hand it to me with a big big smile ... I would take it and lick it clean of icing ... oh my ...
I found several tea pots that had one thing or another broken ... Mom used so many little teapots and a handle or a spout would break every now and then.
I found a big big pot that I can remember Mom using whenever she was boiling water for spaghetti. Ah ... her spaghetti was served with the most meaty spaghetti sauce that I've ever had the deep pleasure of enjoying ...
I finally ran by Walmart with the dog after we went for a walk this evening ... and I bought a potato masher to use when mashing up the pumpkin meat. I looked up and down the aisle at the kitchenware and cooking ware and thought about getting some more things to try in the future ... and then I went home and boiled some hot water for fettucine. I think I must be getting more domestic by the day sometimes. It really felt good to go home and make this simple fettucine dish.
I'll never forget quoting Samuel Johnson to Mom once ... Johnson said that to be happy at home is the end of all human endeavor (or something like that). Mom agreed wholeheartedly.
My oh my oh my ... how I miss you dear Momma ... oh I never ever ever went hungry in your household ... but what you fed us was so much more than just food ... you served everything with you love ... and that nourished us more than anything else ...
I love you Momma.
Jesus I love you Lord. Please please please take good care of my Momma.
And may all the angels and saints intercede for Mom and for me on this special, special day.
Love in Christ,
Charles Delacroix
Feast of All Saints.
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