Veterans Day / Remembrance Day

I was off work today and oh Momma ... how we would have talked about Veterans' Day. Do you remember when you and I used to go to Veterans' Day celebrations? Now you're gone and I just can't bring myself to go without you ...

There's an amazing account of an amazing recording ... truly unique and truly haunting, and very very moving ... of a British gas shell battery near the close of WWI. Teachout's article is at
http://www.artsjournal.com/aboutlastnight/2008/11/tt_the_eleventh_day_of_the_ele.html

There's an amazing story at http://uk.reuters.com/article/UKNews1/idUKTRE4AA28E20081111 that Momma you would have loved.

Poems by Philip Larkin at
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/mcmxiv/ and by AE Housman at http://www.warpoetry.co.uk/housman.html are so moving. At http://www.warpoetry.co.uk/FWW_index.html there is an amazing collection of WWI poems.

Iain Murray at National Review Online shares three poems that are deeply moving:

Wilfrid Owens' "Anthem for Doomed Youth"
Including http://www.warpoetry.co.uk/owen2.html

Laurence Binyon's "For the Fallen"
http://conservativehome.blogs.com/centreright/2008/11/age-shall-not-w.html

Private Isaac Rosenburg's "The Immortals"
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-immortals/

John Derbyshire gives us O Valiant Hearts by John Stanhope Arkwright, a hymn for Remembrance Day. http://www.johnderbyshire.com/Readings/ovalianthearts.html. Momma, you seemed to me to know all the old hymns ... would you have known this one?

There's a wonderful collection of comments and movies and clips at Dirty Harry's Open Thread for the day: http://dirtyharrysplace.com/?p=5577#comments to which I felt moved to contribute this for myself:

Awesome thread. God bless USS Ben, Rather Read’s father, Lord Jiggy ,Carol’s Dad, Major Graham, John McClain’s uncle, and all veterans. Including my Dad, now deceased … he was in Bastogne in the Battle of the Bulge. And never, ever talked about it. Mom said he just once told her that it was hell. Thank God for all those who endured hell so that we can be free today.

I liked The Patriot and We Were Soldiers. Has anyone mentioned The Longest Day? The theme song always puts a lump in my throat, still does. Great movie.

For readings today, I read from Churchill’s WWII memoirs … very moving. Before that, yesterday, I got off work earlyand went to see An American Carol which is still in the dollar theatres around here. For any movies actually in theatres today, my vote would be for this for a good Veteran’s Day tribute flick … if your taste in humor runs to the slightly insane, which mine does. But there’s a scene near the end at the Trace Adkins concert showing soldiers lined up over the years into the Revolutionary past that really brought tears to my eyes.

Happy Veterans Day to all. And to veterans, it’s too small a word, but it’ll just have to do:

*THANKS*

Charles Delacroix

And on this wonderful feast day of that wonderful Soldier of Christ, St Martin de Tours, O Lord I ask your continued blessing for my dear Momma ... and my Dad ... oh Lord ... those two were in so many ways the true WWII generation at so many levels ...

Thank you ... thank you all.

Love in Christ,

Charles Delacroix
Feast of St Martin de Tours

Show Me Another Bunny

Momma you and I loved this ...

http://www.rabbit.org/fun/net-bunnies.html

we would watch and click on picture after picture and laugh and laugh ...

Oh Momma I miss you so so so so so so much ...

I love you

I love you

I hope you're having fun with Spooky and petting her and maybe even watching her chase rabbits and squirrels and laughing right now.

Oh God

Oh God

Have mercy on me and my dear Momma

Charles Delacroix
Feast of St Terese d'Avila

Pepper

Momma, I have a new dog.

She will never ever ever ever be able to take Spooky's place.

But she's a good dog and I think you would like her.

Her name is Pepper and she's about 8 years old. She's a black & white rat terrier ... and she looks really so much like Tippy. Tippy was a black & white fox terrier ... we had in the early 1960s. Lost in Tripoli ... in about 1967 or 1968 or so.

But Momma you would like Pepper. I got her on Sunday ... and took her to visit you ... and she is so full of energy and she likes hot dogs and she likes attention and being petted ... you would love her.

O Momma I miss you.

I miss you so much.

Lord Jesus Christ Son of God Have Mercy on Me and on my Momma.

I love you Momma

I love you Jesus

Charles Delacroix
Feast of St Teresa of Avila

Foot Rubby Downs

I was just thinking about foot rubby downs. Oh Momma. You always loved those. Foot rubby downs and back rubby downs.

O Momma I miss you.

I miss you so much.

Lord Jesus Christ Son of God Have Mercy on Me and on my Momma.

I love you Momma

I love you Jesus

Charles Delacroix
Feast of St Teresa of Avila

Bunny Rabbit

Momma I saw a bunny rabbit in the back yard this evening ... it was nibbling from grass at the edge of the yard. I kept going back and it stayed there most of the evening. I even avoided going into the back yard so as not to frighten it away.

I thought of you ... Momma how you and I would have talked about that rabbit.

I miss you Momma

I miss you and love you

I love you Jesus

Thy Will be Done

Charles Delacroix
Sunday 28 in OT

Casablanca is the Best

Casablanca (1942) http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0034583/ won overwhelming #1 status as best movie of all time in a BAFTA membership vote a few years ago, according to BJ Wexler.

I see the Writers Guild of America voted the screenplay the best of all time in April 2006 http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/entertainment/film/4890590.stm ... but I can't find the BAFTA award. It's not listed in IMDb.

Ah well. Casablanca has my vote for best of all time. Perhaps yours too Momma ... perhaps not ... but oh we both loved this movie ...

For me most of all perhaps because it is so much a delightful, tortured, romantic, wonderful masterpiece of your generation Momma ...

I love you Momma

I love you Jesus

I love you

I love you

I love you

Casablanca: "One of the most cherished movies of all time"

The OETA Movie Club is showing Casablanca tonite ... and "the popcorn man", BJ Wexler, describes this wonderful classic as "one of the most cherished movies of all time" ... I couldn't agree more.

Oh Momma oh Momma oh Momma ...

How I wish you were here to watch this with me ... as we have so many times before ... oh Momma ...

Oh Momma

Oh Momma how I miss you

I miss you so so so so much

I miss you

O Lord Jesus take good care of my Good Momma

Oh what a good movie

About your generation oh Momma

The Greatest Generation

Indeed

Charles Delacroix

James Fenimore Cooper and Momma

Momma, the 2nd movie on the Movie Club tonite is a film version of James Fenimore Cooper's Last of the Mohicans ... oh how you loved James Fenimore Cooper.

This film version is that of 1936 with Randolph Scott as Hawkeye ... http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0027869/ ... which is the best version according to BJ Wexler ... "the popcorn man" ... http://www.oeta.onenet.net/local/movie.html ...

Momma's Generation, & Witness for the Prosecution

Witness for the Prosecution http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0051201/ grabbed my attention and has been ... in its later parts ... but oh Momma ... one of the most fascinatingly complex stories I've seen in awhile ...

And the Charles Laughton character ... full of worry, full of stress ... and with a heart condition ... reminder to me, Lord, that even in Momma's generation there were dark, horribly challenging everything ... just like here and now ... just like everytime and everyplace ... as I suppose ...

The very ending ... in which the Laughton character recovers and sets off to prepare a legal defense that was the reverse of anything he contemplated ... oh Momma that is so your generation too ... something happens, just deal with it.

I love you Momma ... and I love you Lord ...

Tyrone Power ... and Dad

I'm still watching Witness for the Prosecution (1957) ... http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0051201/ ... and oh my Tyrone Power looks so much like my father ... his hair is almost exactly the same ... amazing...

Witness for the Prosecution

I'm watching Witness for the Prosecution (1957) http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0051201/ on OETA's Movie Club.

And yes the men and women all look like Mom and Dad really ...

This was your generation Momma

Oh I wish you were here to watch this with me Momma. We would have talked about Marlene Dietrich and Charles Laughton and perhaps others you might have recognized and talked about in this wonderful movie.

Oh Momma.

I love you and miss you.

I love you Jesus

Please please please Lord Jesus take good care of my good Momma.

I love you.

Charles Delacroix
Feast of St John Chrysostom

Plan Addendum: Feeling and Feeling and Feeling

I need to keep going places where we've gone, Momma, you and I, and you and I and Spooky.

Like yesterday ... I went to a movie ... then to the bookstore for that book on Grief, & got some Holy Cards - St Dismas and Nomen Mariae and Pieta - and then to Woodward Park, and the Rose Garden. I parked where we used to park, and walked where we used to walk, and sat where we used to sit ... and read and prayed and thought and felt and felt and felt ... yes, mostly felt, what it was like then, what it is like now ...

There were no squirrels around where I was sitting, so I couldn't feed them the popcorn I brought. But maybe another day ...

I did. last evening, walk the circuit on the path on the crest of the berm around the flood control basin just NW of Memorial Drive UMC. Oh Momma. How many times we went there ... you could only sit in the car ... and I would take Spooky for a walk around the circuit ... well Spooky and I have kept going there since you've been gone .. the last time we were both there was I think 2 weeks ago tomorrow. Oh I can't say what I was feeling walking there last night ... without Spooky ...

Wrong ... everything felt wrong .... and still feels ... WRONG

That book confirmed as much and seemed to support my feelings on this and I'm sure that's one reason I got it ... the feelings of a Job, the feelings of Jesus on the Cross when he cried out, "Why hast Thou forsaken me?" Those are sacred feelings as unpleasant as they may be and I have no desire to lose such a precious precous gift.

Of horror, of disjunction, of wrongness, of alienation, of sorrow, of anger, of hurting and hurting and hurting ... and aching and aching and aching ...

because you are gone Momma .. you are gone and the void is not filled and cannot be filled ...

Yet even this is a Ikon of God

Dionysius was right ... so right ... so was St John of the Cross ... so were all on the Via Negative ... in Your Absence, there you Are, O Lord. Feeling that enormous loss, that gaping wound, that spearthrust in Your Side O Christ, and in the wounded, bleeding side of humanity, of all this world, in that Void is the Need and the Longing and the utter Desolation that cries out for You ... and which reflects You, as an Ikon, albeit a Mirror Image, of You ... like a mold crying out to be filled by You, yet in Your absence, the mold gives a true, tho reverse, image of You ... and of you Momma ... and of you Spooky ... both of you Imago Dei ...

Oh God

Oh God

Oh God

Take away not these feelings of hurt and pain and loss

These are feelings that proclaim Momma's Absence and Spooky's Absence ... and Your Absence

And therefore they proclaim Momma's Presence and Spooky's Presence and YOUR Presence.

Be Present for me O My God O how I need you

Gaping wound am I gaping need am I

Where I lack ... that is, in everything

Be my lack ... that is, my everything

Charles Delacroix
Sunday XXIII in OT

Functionality and Grief: A Plan

Momma ... Oh God ...

Functionality is facing me as more of a challenge these days than in the past year ...

I met with the dietician on Friday ... and my health is not good ... my diabetes management has been better than it could have been, but my HbA1c is still over 11 ... that's bad, Momma ... and I was out of work for 3 days last week ... mostly stress-driven, grief-driven feeling bad ...

Momma I know you would want me to take better care of myself. I'm trying.

And Spooky died just a little over a week ago ... Aug 29 ... oh Momma ... oh Spooky ...

But I'm trying ...

And health aside I think I've got to to get a little more functional over the next 2 months Momma ... trying to finish getting the house piered, and the mortgage, and then got to get another job. The job stress is very high but I just have to stay there for now to support the mortgagin. And Momma the loan repayment program decertified the work site I'm at ... so big big blow ... and I've got to find another job ...

So ... my short-term goal is to increase my functionality long enough to get through this period. Secondary to The Goal: respond to your passing with as much integrity and authenticity and honor as I can muster by God's Grace in Christ.

So: increase functionality secondary to responding with authenticity to your passing Momma.

I joined a couple of online grief support groups yesterday.

I got a book at the Catholic Book Store by Jerusha Hull McCormack, Grieving: A Beginner's Guide. Humbling title Momma ... but oh ... it's been over a year ... Aug 22 2007 ... but oh Momma ...

I bought some more things to cook up a big stew that I can eat on during the week ... dietician's suggestion ... giving it a try ...

And yesterday I started taking my Prozac. I wrestled with this: I just plain do not want to manipulate my feelings ... but the stress-energy ratio for me these days is just way too high Momma.

For now ... so ... despite my past critique of functionality at the expense of grief ... I am consciously choosing, Momma, to do exactly that to some extent. God I hate this. But I realize that Momma you would yourself support this. You have yourself done this. And I keep asking down at your grave, "how do people do it? how do they do this?" And to some extent I think the answer is: this is how they do it. They do choose functionality at the expense of grief. They have families, they have here-and-now responsibilities, for which functionality is important.

So I am making this choice for now ...

While at the same time shouting as loudly as I can that this is NOT RIGHT, NOT RIGHT, NOT RIGHT.

I hate it

I hate it

I hate it

but it is

it is

it is

But if I'm going to do this where is it I want to go with this. Where do I want to be. What would I like to happen by God's Grace if He should so will.

Goal: Respond with as much authenticity & integrity & honesty to your passing Momma as I can

Means of getting there: Functionality to some degree; Surrender to largest degree

What goal achievement might look like in the Here-and-Now

1. Christ - Mass, prayer, Confession, all the Sacraments and gifts of Holy Church ... the intentional acceptance of God's Grace

2. Momma & Spooky Visits - Keep visiting Momma's grave ev morning & evening, continue Office for the Dead MP and EP. OOR I used to do daily, don't do it as much now, but may continue intermittently God willing. Visit Spooky's grave in the back yard daily.

3. Own & maintain home: Mom's former home. Go through her things ... her poems, her writings Dad's letters, everything ... slowly, gradually ...

4. Job -new job with lower stress. Be open to getting out of the profession temporarily at least and geting a "recovery job" if finances permit.

5. Movies - key stress reliever, keep them up

6. Diabetes better mgmt ... look into pump, look into gallstone reeval at Doc visit in Dec

Things like counseling - still going to grief counselor; grief groups; Prozac ... all to seek to alleviate features of grief undermining functionality ... but just temporarily as a means to an end, increasing functionality to get to the above.

Oh hell

Oh God

Oh Momma

Oh Momma

Oh Jesus

Have mercy on me help me Lord Jesus

Charles Delacroix
Sunday 23 in OT

Beautiful flowering bushes Momma

I wish you were here to see them Momma ... red flowers and pink flowers and how you loved red and pink ... I miss you

I miss you

I miss you and the puppy dog so much

so much

so much

Here and Now and There and Then

Cant' sleep ... and watching a PBS documentary about a raid on Ploesti from Benghazi. Oh what feelings this brings up. I lived not far from Benghazi ... Momma we were in Tripoli. And all of these men were your generation, the Greatest Generation. Oh God Oh God.

Momma I miss you

Spooky I miss you

I saw a book at Catholic Books that I've just got to get ... it speaks to me about Grief. One chapter title jumps out at me especially: that Nothing Is Right.

Amen Amen and Amen.

Oh God

Oh God

Oh God

Oh God the loneliness

Oh God the pain

yet .... yet of course ...

of course

all I can really say is thank you Lord

Here I am alowed to be here for a few moments

But it still hurts

It still hurts

Well

Only one thing is Necessary

Only One Thing

Just for Today

The Cross

The Cross is the Way of Salvation

Only the Cross

Only you Jesus and your Cross

Sarah Palin ... and Momma

I'm sitting here listening to Sarah Palin's acceptance speech ... and oh Momma ...

Momma how I wish you were here

How I wish you were here

Oh Momma I think you would sit in your chair ... right over there ... and me and you we would both be sitting smiling and laughing and clapping ... and I think you would be so proud, so proud, of this woman ... this truly strong woman, a woman like you, Momma ... like you ...

Oh Momma

I love you and miss you so so so so so so so so much

oh how I wish you were here

What a lady this Sarah Palin is

What a lady you were Momma

What a lady

Charles Delacroix
Feast of Pope St Gregory the Great

"For a few minutes they were mine ... that is enough"

I watched the marvelous Charade with Cary Grant and Audrey Hepburn tonite.

Oh Momma ... oh Momma I wish you were here to watch it with me, on OETA ... we have watched this before, I think, on OETA's Movie Club on a Saturday night like tonite ...

But there's this wonderful scene at the park ... and at a "stamp market" ... when the invaluable set of 3 stamps is discovered ... by a philatelic dealer who is delighted but returns the invaluable stamps to the Audrey Hepburn character. She says to him that she's sorry. He responds, "No ... for a few minutes they were mine ... that is enough."

What a beautiful and utterly truthful expression ....

Oh Lord

Mopmma too ... and Spooky too ..." For a few minutes they were mine ... that is enough"

Oh but I miss them ..

Charles Delacroix
Eve of Sunday 22 in OT

I miss you Spooky

Last night, for the first time, I suddenly realized that I didn't need to leave the door open between the garage and the yard.

Momma and I have left that door open from the time we moved here ... so that Spooky could come in and out of the garage at will.

That's always had a downside of course ... we've had rats in the garage, more bugs I'm sure, leaves blow into the garage.

But we've always kept doing pest control & sweeping up as best we could and took that all in stride as one of the "things" involved in having a dog ... or a dog like Spooky who, let's be honest, pretty much went where she wants ... :-) ... although not inside the house, except on rare occasions.

Of course a major plus of the arrangement was that when Momma couldn't move around very well, the dog could come inside the garage and up to the door from the garage into the kitchen, and she could let her in and fuss over her and brush her and feed her bites of cheese and peanut butter "cookies" - Momma's term for dog biscuits paired and glued together with peanut butter, like oreo cookies.

And like a kid with an oreo cookie, Spooky would take a cookie" from Momma and walk off with it briskly and happily and peel the two halves apart and lick the peanut butter center.

Oh Momma

Oh Spooky

I miss you both so so so so so so so much.

But last night ... last night I closed the door from the garage to the yard. Oh God it hurt but I did it.

I still put out fresh water in the water pan for Spooky ... I just couldn't not put out some fresh water for her ...

Oh God ...

I miss you both so so so so so so so much

And this morning ... I woke up ... and it hit my stomach like a punch ... gone gone gone.

And I caught myself worrying about something I've never worried about before ... or not much.

Namely worrying about the house being broken into.

Spooky ... you see ... when I was away at work ... I knew that you had things in charge ... and I knew you were always a good watch dog ... a good watch dog, as Momma and I said many many many times.

Now who is there to watch over the house? When I'm away. Or for that matter when I'm here.

Only You O Lord

Only You

Oh God

Oh God

Oh God it hurts

Thy Will be done

Charles Delacroix
Eve of Sunday 22 in OT

Stranger in a Strange Land ... and De Futilitates

Such a strange, strange evening ...

I kept looking for you Spooky as I mowed and you weren't there

I kept thinking I've got to be careful not to have both garage doors open ... and risk letting you out ... but did it really matter ...

I mowed and mowed and mowed ... and I kept thinking what's the point ...

What's it matter

What's it matter

I've got to read some more of St Gregory on Job no doubt O Lord

But oh God

Oh Momma

Oh Momma

Oh Spooky

Oh Lord

Oh St John the Baptizer

Your Beheading

Your Martyrdom

Ikon of Our Lord's Crucifixion

My tears for this dog ... what the f*ck does this matter ... O God ... this dog that never did anything to anyone ... Oh God why the hell did she die ... oh God ... John the Baptizer's horrible Beheading had meaning ... Our Lord's Crucifixion had meaning ... me ... what I've done ... I deserve anything, anything at all that happens to down me ... but what the hell did this dog ever do to merit her suffering over the last oh 4 or 5 or 6 months ... she thrashed every now and then in the car as I drove idiotically looking for a vet hospital in the middle of the night ... and I stroked her and begged her and she lay down with her head in my lap ... those dark eyes looking up at me ... whimpering as I cried and drove and drove and cried and stroked her rich, golden, brown fur .... and stroked her forehead as she whimpered looking up at me ... to die ... die ... and now she's gone and nothing but nothing is right ... Momma is gone and nothing but nothing is right ... oh God ... why ... and what is the point of my doing anything at all now ... or ever ...

Oh ... OK ... OK ... I know at some level and at some point and in some way Your Will and Your Providence must be Good and Good and Good ... oh oh oh oh oh though ... I know too that you let Father Job carry on like this far more than me and please lllwo me by Thy Grace the same ..

Oh Lord even now nothing matters but You and You only oh Lord

Only You

Only You

Only You

But Oh God all I feel like doing right now is beating the crap out of everything even You

But Oh God

Oh God

Oh God

I feel like a child in Your Arms flailing away at You and the harder I flail the more You hold me close to You

And tell me that You Love Me anyway

And tell me to hollar and cry and carry on all I want

And remind me that Job did

And Jesus did on the Cross

And oh God

Oh God

Oh Lord

Oh Lord

But ... but Spooky ... but Momma ... !

Oh Lord

Lord Have Mercy
Christ Have Mercy
Lord Have Mercy

Thy Will Not Mine Be Done

Shit

But Yes

Thy Will Not Mine Be Done

Charles Delacroix
Beheading of St John the Baptizer

Tobias, Tobit, Raphael ... and Puccinella ... and Spooky

I visited the Philbrook this afternoon ...

And there ... in that exquisite little work by Puccinella (sp?), of Tobit blessing his son, in the presence of the Angle Raphael ... that wonderful work, circa (I think?) 1300 ... there in the bottom corner, looking on, was a dog.

Oh Lord

Oh Tobit

Oh Raphael

Oh Spooky

It seems that dogs get around very much

And truly are a part of the family ... from way way back ...

I just can hardly believe that Spooky is gone.

I told Aunt Edna, calling her from Woodward Park, where Spooky and I ... and before that, Spooky and Momma and I ... went so often.

And driving there it really felt so very very like the first weeks and months after you were gone last year Momma.

The whole universe feels wrong, feels unreal, feels ... feels utterly utterly wrong.

I just drove up in my driveway and looked over ... like always ... to see if Spooky were lying just inside the gate watching for me ...

And then it hit like a punch in the stomach

I just shook my head and cried and ... I know, I know she's gone but it just doesn't feel like it...

And when I think of her being gone the universe feels utterly utterly wrong ... and everything feels very, very unreal ...

A world without Spooky in it ... like a world without Momma in it ... just makes no sense at all.

It doesn't

It just doesn't

Oh Momma

Oh Lord

Oh Lord

Oh Momma ... Spooky is Dead

Spooky died this morning ... oh Momma ... she died with her head in my lap, as I petted and stroked her and told her that Momma always said that she's the Bestest Puppy Dog in the Whole Wide World

and

that Momma always said, "That Spooky she's just the purtiest girl in town!"

Oh oh oh oh oh

Dead at 14 years ... good, long years of good, good life ... and I frankly agree with Momma ... the Bestest Puppy Dog in the Whole Wide World ...

I hope and pray that Spooky is even now romping and playing with you Momma wherever you are ... maybe she's even letting you brush out her tail and even now is chasing squirrels in Heaven ...

Oh God

Oh God how do people do this

how

oh
oh
oh
oh

I miss you Momma so much

Now with your dog gone ...

oh it's like losing you again ...

and oh how I miss you both ..

Oh God

Have mercy on us all

Maybe it's a good sign that Spooky departed this world exactly 2 days after the 1 year anniversary of your burial Momma ...

And on the Feast of the Beheading of St John the Baptizer ...

As you were born on the Nativity of St John the Baptizer ...

Oh Momma

Oh Jesus

Oh God


Charles Delacroix
Feast of the Beheading of St John the Baptizer

St Monica, Pray for Us

Oh good St Monica, on this anniversary of Momma's funeral, please pray for my dear Momma, and for us all.

I just can't say anything else right now.

Oh Momma

Oh Jesus

Oh God

Charles Delacroix
Feast of St Monica

Moral Commentary on the Book of Job by St Gregory the Great

This is a wonderful resource ... I first ran across it in OOR ... and a translation from about a century ad a half ago is partilally available online at:

http://www.lectionarycentral.com/GregoryMoraliaIndex.html

I just added it to links.

And why not ... can't sleep ... Momma's dog is I think dying ... so who isn't ... oh God ... oh Jesus ... oh Jesus ...what else matters but thee ... nothing else is but thee ...

I love you Jesus

I need you

Oh Momma I miss you so so so so so so much

Oh God

Charles Delacroix
Wed of Week 21 of OT

Dying Again and Again and Again

And again ... oh Momma ... oh God ...

Spooky has had a long, long ailment ... dating back to ... to when ... oh God ... well got worse a few months ago, but really started what, about a year agao ...

And now she gets around so so so so painfully ...

Partly that's arthritis ...

But oh ... her breathing was so shallow tonite ... she just lay in the back seat of hte car after we went to see Momma. She just lay there ... she's out now ... lapped up water ... has had her antibiotics ... but oh ... oh oh oh ...

Lord have mercy
Christ have mercy
Lord have mercy

Charles Delacroix
Feast of St Lous & St Joseph Calancz

A House and a Yard and a Dog ...

Today is the day after the annivesary of my Momma's passing from this world ...

I've been thinking about this and a few other things ... and ... oh Momma ...

First, the night before last I stayed up all night ... cleaning up the house ... not, to be honest, because I wanted to do any kind of cleaning at all ... but because I'm seeking a mortgage in order to buy my sister's half of my Momma's house ... and the appraiser was scheduled to inspect the house yesterday.

So I really worked on things ... and cleaned up ... and in so doing ... moved things that I have been so so so so so reluctant to move ... things that had been sitting in the place they've been sitting ... since you left dear Momma ... since before you left ...

Well I've put some things back ... others not. I know, I know ... it's part of the natural process to change ... slowly ... these things ... but oh it feels ... it feels what ... I don't even know ... as if on the one hand Momma would have wanted me to do ... on the other it feels like another death, another passing, of Momma ...

It hurts

I've been thinking about the yard ... and the yards we've had, Momma, in the past ... the feel of grass under my feet as a boy ... the clover, the "sheep's shire", the lazy hazy days of later summer, like this one ...

And the yard, the back yard, of Henry Poole is Here. What a wonderful movie. But that back yard ... succoed, whitewashed, dry ... so like our back yard in Tripoli, years and years ago ...

Whew ...

Momma I miss you so so so so so so much

Oh Jesus please please please ... take good care of my good Momma ...

I love you Momma

I love you Jesus

I love you

Charles Delacroix
Feast of St Rose of Lima

Anniversary of the Death of My Momma

The following was from last night ... late at night ... the Eve of the Feast of the Queenship of Mary

My dearest Momma died on August 22, one year ago, and was buried on August 27.

I count it as a true blessing beyond words that my mother should have passed from this world on the Feast of the Queenship of Mary, Holy Mother of God.

And that her funeral should be celebrated on the Feast of St Monica, holy mother of St Augustine.

I still hurt and hurt and cry and cry. I can't sleep. What a dark dark night this is. But even now I know that my own tears at my mother's grave come to nothing like the tears of compassion and love that she wept for me. And are nothing compared to the tears of St Monica, who "watered the earth with her tears" for decades, and, by her intercession, gave us the conversion of that great Doctor of the Church, St Augustine. The Reading for the Feast of St Monica, from St Augustine's Confessions, seems to me so very moving, and I've read it again and again and again. It makes me think of my dear Momma.

I know when I think about it that grieving for my mother, like Augustine's grieving for his mother, like Christ's weeping at the Tomb of Lazarus, like the tears of grief that seem awash over this old world, all mean, among other things, that little Charles Delacroix is not alone when I'm crying and hurting on this dark night.

Right now, Christ Jesus is sitting beside me. His Arms are around me, His tears mingling with mine, mingling with the tears of Mary and all the saints in the world. "Laugh with those who laugh, weep with those who weep," says St Paul. Tonite I know ... well I believe ... and when i can't believe I claim the Faith of Holy Church ... in this Faith I know that I am more blessed than I can say as the Church, the Body of Christ, weeps with me; and invites me to join my tears to the Tears of Heaven and the Tears of Earth in sorrow for the passing of all who have gone before us.

Oh God ... it's so dark out. But You know all about that don't You Lord. You knelt alone weeping and sweating Tears of Blood we are told while the world slept. You crept and crawled and stumbled and fell on Your Way of the Cross. Your Blood drenched the parched earth beneathe Your Holy Cross. Your Blood flowed into the dead earth that is Golgotha, into the dead earth that is this world of suffering and that is this vale of tears. Your Precious Blood flowed into the dead earth that is little old Charles Delacroix. Your Precious Blood Flowed and Flowed. In Your Last Conversation you chose to converse with a filthy Crucified Thief whose mortal blood mingled perhaps with Your Immortal Blood on that hard, hard earth. On that Day as the Blood of God washed across the dead earth, a dying mortal Thief Stole Heaven at Your Divine Word as You Shed Your Blood over the whole Dead Earth. Oh God look down on this dying mortal sinner and by Thy Grace allow me, if it be according to Thy Will, to see my dearly beloved mother once again, with You and St Dismas and St Monica and Your Holy Mother, Gateway to Heaven, as you, dear mother, were my gateway to earth.

Von Balthasar says that all who live in this world live in a kind of Holy Saturday. If so then I am stumbling along even now on my Way of the Cross Following You, O Lord, on Your Great Way of the Cross, not only to Calvary, but into Your Holy Tomb, in which You Lay Dead, all day, all that long, long day, on Holy Saturday. And I am told that all who die pass through the Tomb of Tombs, the Tomb of the Dead Jesus on Holy Saturday. Tonight is very, very dark. But honestly I know ... well, most of this dark, dark night I know ... that tonite I am blessed to be with all the Church in the dark Tomb of Christ Jesus.

Tomorrow ... "tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow, creeps in this petty pace ..." yes, but the Tomorrow beyond all the dusty tomorrows of this world ... that Tomorrow, Holy Church Teaches me, is Easter Sunday.

But tonite I am Called to kneel weeping among the throng weeping at the Tomb of Christ, the Tomb of all, here in Holy Saturday. It is of course a blessing beyond blessings to be among those weeping at the Tomb of Christ Jesus, the Tomb of my dear mother, the Tomb of the Body of Christ. The Tomb of Christ Jesus this Holy Saturday is dark and silent but Our Lord has been busy ... He descended into Hell, Sheol, and freed all those who languished there in the dark of death. You freed them ... freed me ... freed us all ... and now we kneel in the Tomb of Christ at Your Tomb O Lord, mourning, in this dark, dark, dark night.

The night my mother died ... last year ... she lay ... right here, right in front of where I am sitting right now. As she died, she was with Him on the Cross on Calvary. As her breath slowed, and suddenly stopped, He gasped His Last Breath. And the Dead Christ, laid out in His Tomb, was with my dead mother. She lay on the Bier of Christ, although I didn't know it at the time. I didn't know anything at the time. But fortunately Christ knew. He knew. What else matters. What else really matters but Christ.

And for that very reason everything matters. Even an old woman who lay dying on a cold, cold night. An old woman who showed her son how to live. An old woman who showed her son how to die.

She died alone except for her son ... and her Christ Jesus ... and her Blessed Mother ... and all the saints of Heaven. Alone into the Alone, but she was not Alone.

There's an old monk at Holy Ghost Monastery in Conyers who wrote an amazing long poem called In the Dead Heart of Jesus. It's a sort of meditation ... after von Balthasar ... on being in the Tomb of Christ on Holy Saturday. I kept thinking about this then and keep thinking about it now. If he's right, if Von Balthasar is right, then I was privileged to be with my dying mother in the Dead Heart of Jesus. That the Sacred Heart of Christ could Die, torn and shredded by a Spear on Good Friday, and could lay Dead in the Tomb, before the Easter Resurrection of Christ: what a crushing thought. But then the Cross is crushing. The Cross that crushed God Himself to the earth on the Way of the Cross again and again and again. The Cross that crushes us all. The Cross that redeems us all. The Cross that is the Salvation of the World.

But oh how it hurts. It hurt then. It hurts now.

At least now I know what it is. The Cross. "Take up Your Cross and Follow Me." OK, then. If that's the Way, if that's the Way to Christ, then that's the Right Way.

Oh God. Oh well. Enough for now though. I'm going to try dozing just a bit sitting here. I was exhausted, and did doze, just a bit, a few times, that night. God Who sends His Cross does not fail to send a little relief too it seems. Maybe I can doze a bit now. That night, when I dozed off, God watched. He Watches now too. "Watchman, what of the night?" The Christ Who Closed His Eyes in Death in the Tomb on Holy Saturday, now Watches over all things. If He Watches over all things, in His Loving Providence, why not over me too

In any event, Thy Will not Mine Be Done. Amen. Amen.

Of Your Mercy Dear Jesus, I beseech You to take good care of my good Momma, who took such good care of me.

I would be more deeply grateful than I can say if anyone reading this would keep in your prayers the repose of the soul of my dear mother; and would be grateful for your prayers for little Charles Delacroix on this dark Night.

Love in Christ,

Charles Delacroix
Queenship of Mary

St Clare and Envy and Gratitude and Whackness

I saw the Dark Knight again last night ... instead of The Whackness. I really like both movies very much.

And on this Feast of St Clare all this reminds me that really Envy should have no place in my thoughts or feelings or life.

Let's face it. Life is f'd up. And we're all in for it. No one's exempt. There is Hope: Christ. Christ alone. Apart from Him though: it's all plain old f'd up and hopeless.

Momma I went for a little walk between prayers this morning ... and just North of your grave there's another grave that struck me. A double grave. Husband and wife. The wife died and was buried only a year ago. The husband apparently is still living. Here's the kicker: the wife's birth year was 1956; the husband's 1957.

So he's only a little younger than me. A little younger than my sister. He had a wife. And she's gone. And now he is ... if not alone ... bereft of his life's mate.

Would it have been better if my path was more like his? Better in what sense? To have a wife? And a family? And ot lose them? As I lost you Momma?

I don't know

I don't understand

But I just don't know

If my life had been more like that of St Francis of Assisi?

Or Like St Clare?

Would it have been better.

Probably so in their case ... they were saints ...

But better in the sense of less pain? Less sense of deracination? Of loneliness? Of attacks of the sense of futilitates?

I don't know

I just don't know

O Lord

O Momma

How I miss you

But O Lord

Thy Will Not Mine Be Done

Fiat Voluntas Tua

Oh shit

Thy Will Be Done

Love,

Charles Delacroix
Feast of St Clare

Loneliness and Envy and Whackness

Well, Momma, I'm back from walking the dog.

She's doing better I think ... completed the circuit atop the berm around the basin over by Memorial Drive UMC ... and did OK.

On the way there ... and back ... I kept seeing people ... together: a group of young folks sitting on trucks and cars & shooting the breeze at one house. A man walking with a young child, his son, I guess, on the sidewalk. A couple of dudes sitting over by the basketball court at the school. A family piled into a van. A big family (I guess) watching kids playing.

And oh God ... the old old ache, the old old Loneliness came over me ...

But that's really nothing new is it. The Loneliness the Solitude the Aloneness. The Alone proceeding into the Alone.

Likewise that sense of Disconnect of radical rootlessness. Nothing new.

What is new ... what is so horribly horribly painful since you left Momma ... is that before you were always there. Somewhere. Somewhere in this world. Somewhere there was always one person,. one person who ... who was what? Momma ... yes ... but really the one person who Cared. The one person in this world. O Lord Jesus and Thy Mother and all the Saints ... yes ... this is truly my only family the best family of all really ... but oh who is here for me to give a Coo too. Who to give a foot-rubby-down to. Who to go for walks with like you and I went for walks over in Limberg Forest in Knoxville. Maybe that's what I miss the most. Walking and talking about anything and really nothing and yet because you were there Momma ... it made all the difference.

Now ... now I walk ... and there's no one to say, Listen to that owl or feel that breeze or talk over the houses and flowers we see along the way.

Ah Lord. That's not true. There is You.

Oh Lord. Help me to remember that.

And forgive me ... but O Lord that's still just not the same.

You have and had a Mother. You understand.

But I do not have to truly walk alone do I.

You are with me.

Only You.

Jesu Christus Solus.

Totus Tuus.

Totus Tuus.

Totus Tuus.

Oh Lord

Oh Momma

Oh God

OK ... on my way to see a movie ... probably The Wackness again ... good to just remember that Envy should truly have no place in all this: it's a Wacked world for all of us. The Grass may look greener on the other side ... but that's BS.

I thought of St Dismas. Where is his grave? Who visits and puts flowers there?

No one. In this world.

Everyone. In the next.

O Lord

Just for tonite ... be with me and may St Dismas and Holy Mary and St Vincent and all the Saints be with me as with all ... whether I can see you or no you are with me you are here.

I love you

I love you

Thank you

Charles Delacroix
Sunday 19 in OT

WTF, WTF, WTF

WTF ... strong strong strong sene of Futility tonite.

But I did feel better after going to see you Momma. Oh but how I cried and cried and just kept muttering again and again and again ...

"I don't understand."

Because of course I don't understand.

I don't.

You aren't here.

And I don't understand.

But the goal of course isn't to understand.

It's to respond to the catastrophe with as much honor and integrity and authenticity as I can feebly by God's grace muster.

Oh God though it's so so so so so so so lonely without Momma here.

Loneliness ... Futility ... what do these have to do with Authenticity though.

OK

Ok

I heard an owl hooting at the gravesite Momma ... and O how you and I would have talked about that owl ...

That ... that owl's hooting ... and that knowledge that *if* you were here we would be honoring that owl in our thoughts and speech ... that is what I am choosing to call Authenticity

Just for today.

Oh Momma

Oh Momma

I hurt and I hurt and I hurt

That too is Authenticity.

It is the Cross.

The Cross of Christ

The Cross of little Charles Delacroix

It is Authenticity

Not a bird falls without You knowing and caring Lord

So even this owl tonite ... You know and You care O Lord

O God but how do people get through this how how how how ...

What does that matter

They do clearly they do

Oh Momma I miss you so so so so so so so so so so much

Oh Lord Jesus I beg you please please please take good care of my good Momma

Momma I miss you

Charles Delacroix
Sunday 19 in OT
Feast of St Lawrence

PS I'm going to take the dog for a walk now Momma ... oh how we both wish you were here with us ...

Of Geese and Frogs and Rain and God and Country

Oh Momma ... oh Momma ...

It was so good tonite to see all those geese walking around the cemetery ... just east of you Momma ... oh how you would have smiled to see them. ... how we would have talked & laughed about them ...

I went over east and spent a little time at the Avenue of Flags and the Monuments to the Medal of Honor holders from Oklahoma ... and read the plaques celebrating the history of our Country in Flags.

I read some of the grave markers over there ... all servicemen & women and their spouses ... all, all from your generation Momma ... the Greatest Generation.

I felt so very, very sad .... oh God oh Momma how I miss you ... and I felt so sad that all these have passed ... and at the same time I felt so very, very, very grateful for all of these men and women ... and most of all for you Momma ... oh Momma ... oh Momma ... thank you, thankyou so so so so so so much.

It's raining now ... and Momma I could hear the little peepers croaking in the back yard ... we would have talked about them, wouldn't we Momma, about how much they must love this rain .. and about how Spooky wouldn't particularly like this rain ... "she no like wet," I would say. "No ... she no like wet," you would smile. She's in the garage now Momma ... nice and dry ... :-)

There's a tribute on OETA to Bob Dylan ... with footage of him and Joan Baez and Peter, Paul & Mary ... amazing ... these were in the generation just before me ...

Tempus fugit

Sic transit gloria mundi

I felt so strongly, Momma, that feeling of futilitates ... still do ... but oh ... oh oh oh Lord Jesus ... be here with me now and be the Answer for all of this ... only You ... only You are the answer.

Walk with me and before me and in me O Lord ... I can't stumble down this Way of the Cross if You are not Here & Now to stumble with me ... on Your Way of the Cross you Fell Three Times ... O Lord my falls are many and hard and daily and hourly and more it seems ... be here with me please O Lord ... without You I cannot make it ...

If I make my bed in hell, Thou art there ... Ps 139,8

Then O Lord may I make my bed daily, nightly, in this hell of futilitates ... of a world bereft of Momma ... and of meaning ... apart from thee. In this hell be with me O Lord ...

I love you

I love you

I love you and thank you

Charles Delacroix
St Teresa Benedicta of the Cross
Oh St "Edith Stein" pray for us

An account closing ... and Sancta Maria Maggiore

Last night I finally opened the bank statement that came last weekend for Momma's Estate. The bank account is now at zero. Actually there's some kind of maintenance fee affixed, so it's less than zero. I'll try to get that taken care of this Friday when I seek to close the account.

Oh God it hurts so much. One more closing that shouts the words I hate most to hear in this world: she is gone. Gone.

Oh Momma.

A beautiful sunrise this morning. It was nice to watch it with you Momma.

Yesterday was the Feast of the Dedication of Basilica Sancta Maria Maggiore in Roma. Oh Holy Mary, Mother of God, who has watched over your Church with such maternal devotion and love, watch over my dear departed Momma as well.

Oh Jesus have mercy on me.

Oh Jesus of Your Divine Love and Mercy ... please take good good good care of my good Momma.

I love you.

I miss you.

Charles Delacroix

Bunny Rabbits in August

Momma, I saw one of those cotton-tailed bunnies in the back yard this evening ... munching on grass over by the west fence. I so wish you were here to talk about him. Who else is there to talk to about it. Oh Momma ... oh God ...

God it hurts this morning. Envy and Gratitude.

It hurts, Momma.

It hurts, O Lord.

and what almost hurts as much is the sudden realization that a big part of the pain for me is very probably the result of sheer, unadulterated Envy.

How much of me looks at your life Momma and thinks: that young girl of 18 or 19 in that photo in Jefferson City really did pretty much get what you wanted. At least a big part of what you wanted. You wanted a husband and kids and you wanted to read and travel and sing ... and all these things came to you. You worked hard at achieving your goals. And you did it. You made them. Perhaps not all of them. But you said many times, and especially toward the end, that you had done what you wanted, you got what you sought.

Momma, a few days ago ... well, Saturday ... I visited Grampa Vaughan's grave and those of G-Grampa and G-Granma Martin. Then I stopped on the way back to Tulsa at at movie theater in Bartlesville and enjoyed the movie there. I kept looking at older people in the movie lobby and the shopping mall where it's located ... and I wondered if any of them knew my father or my grandfather or my g-grandparents. I kept looking at the younger ... not much younger ... people and wondering if we're related. Could well be. I was looking at my genealogy records last night and what an enormous family the Martins had. And Grampa Vaughan, as far as I know, got what he set out to do. N

ot to say that all these haven't had problems. I keep thinking ... about your passing, Momma, but hell, about life in general ... how do people do it? How do they handle ... things?

I don't know. I don't know. By Your Grace surely O Lord.

I hurt and hurt and hurt not only for your loss Momma but for the loss of ... everything. I have no family, no children, haven't gotten much of anything I can think of that particularly speaks to my heart. I Envy you Momma. I envy you world.

But really when I think about it ... hey ... I was married once ... not for long, to be sure, but at least I was granted something of a taste of this extraordinary human experience. I got to travel. I wanted to achieve dual licensure as both a clinical social worker and as an alcohol/drug counselor. Both came to pass and I'm working in the field even now. I'm not by any stretch of the imagination super good at what I do, but I'm not so bad, either. Alas I have no wife now and no friends. But I've been granted the privilege of meeting and spending some time with some extraordinary folks. And I've been granted the privilege of getting to talk with and spend a little time with my aunt, your dear sister, Momma, and one of her daughters. I may have diabetes, and don't control it all that well, but I sure don't go hungry, either. At the moment I have use of my hands and arms and legs and get around OK. Many can't say as much.

All in all ... I guess I really have a lot to be Grateful for.

Oh Momma I miss you so so so so so much. Thank you O Lord for the privilege of my Momma. Thank you Momma.

Thank you God for everything.

Charles Delacroix
Eve of the Feast of St Martha

The Universe is Wrong. God is Right.

I'm getting that strong sense again of WTF, of Why? of the catastrophe that is Mom's passing signifying once again that the Universe is utterly, utterly utterly wrong.

I seek, nay, I demand the right before the Bar of Heaven to follow in the footsteps not only of Father Job, but of Jesus Christ, Advocate for the Anawim Yahweh, Advocate for the Widow, the Orphan, the Poor in Spirit, to shake my fist at Heaven and demand, Why oh Why Hast Thou Forsaken Me?

There is no answer but the Cross of course.

That is the point.

Always Lord You have been the One who saves.

Always Lord You have been the One who advocates.

Always Lord You have been the One to be the Way, the Truth, and the Life
in the face of Futility, Falsehood, Injustice and Death

You You Alone are my hope.

Oh God

Oh God

Oh Momma how I miss you

Oh God

Momma and Disconnection from the Universe

Got that really really really strong sense today of utter disconnection from the universe.

Momma was really my connection to the Universe. I the Object Relations theorists are right, the mother is always the first connection to the Universe, and the primordial vision of the Universe itself, from the beginning, from birth.

No wonder it is through Mary that we come to Jesus.

Nothing really feels connected or quite real. Or perhaps it's the other way around, everything feels real but I don't feel real. Either way nothing feels connected at the moment.

And my feelings have bounced between sheer, bottomless sadness and sheer, bottomless desolation. It's either pain or it's futility; helplessness or hopelessness. Or both.

I went into Warehouse Market to buy some cheese for the dog. And oh God. Oh Momma. It's been so long since I've been in there. We used to go there all the time, together, Momma. I could almost see you there in your wheelchair. I could feel you looking at this and that. We would talk about getting this or that and I would hand you a tomato so you could tell me if it was a nice one or not. And I could almost hear you saying something about getting something a little sweet for your sweet tooth. And we would laugh together and you would get a few candy bars. Oh God. What I wouldn't give to be able to go back to the store with my Momma.

Oh God.

Oh well.

Thy will not mine be done.

Lord hellp me to take up my little Cross daily to Follow You with your big big Cross daily.

One day at a time

One hour at a time

One minute at a time

One Day, One Hour, One Minute at a Time

Feeling horribly down again ...

Oh Momma I miss you so so so so so so much ...

Goal is still to try to honor you and the catastrophic character of your passing with as much authenticity and integrity as God may vouchesafe me ...

One day at a time

One hour at a time

One minute at a time

God I feel exhausted

Oh well

My guess is that Christ was a zillion times more exhausted as He bore His Cross on the Way of the Cross

O Lord give me strength by Your Grace to help me bear my little Cross wobbling after You with Your Big Cross on the Way of the Cross

One hour at a time

One minute at a time

The Dog

I was feeling so down this morning ... oh Momma I miss you so much ... and I was looking out the back window, and there was a bunny rabbit sitting on the back lawn, just west of the back porch.

Oh Momma how we would have talked and laughed about that rabbit ...

Then I saw Spooky slowly creeping along the fence line ... squatting every now and then ... she still has the colitis or gastritis or whatever that is ... and she was perhaps 15 feet from the rabbit ... and didn't even seem to notice it ...

I fed her this morning ... with a very generous portion of cheese (she likes CHEEEEEEEZ!!) ... and she definitely still has an appetite for cheese ... I gave her the antibiotic ... and after going in and out of hte garage a few times to check on her, she seemed to be more up, her tail wagging, and looking at me, seeming to say, as Momma you would have said for her, "Gee ... are WE going anywhere?"

So I fixed up her a place in your car, Momma, and we went out. Honestly she had such a time getting into the front seat, but didn't even try for her accustomed place in the back seat.

Off we went ... and went to the cemetery ... looking for a short walk, something with shade, since it's hot ... and also of course I hoped we would both get to visit you, Momma.

We went for our "walky-walky" ... she was very very slow at first, and then up to slow ... I had given her aspirin this morning, but oh that arthritis must be bad ... we walked and got to visit you, Momma ... I reminded her, Momma, that you loved her so very very very very much ... and Momma I know she loved you very very vrery very much. And oh Momma we both do miss you so so so so so much.

Well, the dog and I walked back to the car ... I helped her into the passenger side seat ... and after a short distance, she clambered into the back seat. She lay down at first, but then stood up, right behind me, poking her nose out the window between the driver's seat and the back edge of the window ... in her accustomed car-riding stance ... and oh Momma it was so good to see her doing that. Of course I petted her and told her what a good girl she was and that if Momma were here Momma would tell her she's the prettiest girl in town.

We came home and I fixed some nice fresh water ... she's resting now Momma ... oh but God she's getting old too ... and I keep wondering how long ... and how I miss going for our long walks down at Woodward Park when she would chase the squirrels and jerk the leash out of my hand with her enthusiasm and strength and vigor ... all, I fear, gone by the wayside now.

Oh Momma I love you and miss you
Oh Spooky I love you and promise to take care of you ... please get well

Oh God have mercy on me

Charles Delacroix
Saint Joachim and Saint Anne, parents of the Blessed Virgin Mary

Oh Momma even the mother of mothers, Mary most Holy, must have grieved the deaths of her beloved parents. Oh Mary Most Holy, oh good St Anne, oh good St Joachim and good St Joseph, pray for me, and for my dear departed mother.

Chesterton, Buckley, and De Futilitates

I can't believe it's been so long since I checked in.

Oh God.

I visited Hornersville last weekend ... and managed to collect a good case of poison ivy ... all over the part of the cemetery I was cleaning up ... whew it's been ruff but much better now ...

Today has been rough ... but it really did help to visit the dietician today ... and talk about sort of basic self-care things. I'm diabetic and really haven't been eating right ... the doc said I'm anemic and "malnourished" ... so Momma, I'm trying to work on things. I bought some meat and have been eating more eggs and intend to seek to eat a bit better.

The biggest challenge is still ... De Futilitates ...

WTF ...

The answer of course is the Cross ... the answer to all things is the Cross ... but Momma life really does seem pointless with you not here ...

But then I was reading a couple of articles ... about GK Chesterton and Willam F Buckley, Jr ... and felt strangely better. The article said that this year is the 100th anniversary of Chesterton's The Man Who Was Thursday. Just knowing that there are those who have gone before and found some reason to keep putting one foot in front of the other ... helps so much.

I saw something about John Adams ... and remember how much simply reading his work when I was on the point of suicide in Miami in 1980 ... really got me past and helped me find a reason to keep going simply in recognizing that others, who I can't help but honor and respect deeply, have found reasons to keep going.

My goal is still to respond to the catastrophic passing of my Mom with as much honor and decency and integrity and authenticity as I can. I guess that's a species of the same answer to the challenge posed by De Futilitates.

So ... if the question demanded by De Futilitates is Why ...

The answer is ... not known to me ... but by Grace I believe the answer to have been carried among us by others: by Mom and John Adams and Chesterton and Buckley ... and ultimately by Our Lord Jesus Christ.

Why? Why not? is really another way of answering the same question.

But for now this seems to speak most to my heart:

Why? Adams, Chesterton, Buckley, Mom, Christ ...

Well ... works for me ...

Just for today ...

Oh Momma how I miss you ...

Oh Momma ...,

Holy Mary Most Pure Mother of God pray for us
Lord Jesus Christ Crucified have mercy on us

Charles Delacroix
Feast of St James

Only the Cross ... Only the Cross of Christ

Whew ... long day at work ... lots and lots of pressure ...

O Lord help me to keep my eyes on your Cross through all this ... it's so so so so hard.

But oh God.

Only You O Christ.

Only You

Oh God

Oh Momma

Of Momma and Ducks and Spooky and the Cross and the Cross and the Cross

Quick note on the rum ... I'm blogging from work before a 9 AM group.

Momma thank you so much for having me this morning ... thank you for waking me at 5:45 ... the time you died ... or the time I at least found you departed sitting beside your bed ... right where I sleep now every night ... so I rushed to you ... and in time ... it was an absolutely gorgeous sunrise ... with the dewiest grass ... I cried and cried ... I miss you so ... it hurts so much ... but just remembering that it's supposed to be this way, it's the Cross, really helps. Not that things aren't f'd up, they are, Job knew it, Jesus knew it, I know it, we all know it. But it's the Cross. So it's somehow OK. The Cross is OK. The rest is ... well OK only in the light of the Cross. In the light of this morning's sunrise. In Your Light O Lord.

I couldn't believe it when I was sitting there and just as the very sparkly direct ray of the sunrise came across your grave ... it was about 6:30 ... and there to the south, just about 15 or 20 feet away, waddled a bunch of ducklings ... then their mother ... I counted 7 ducklings ... and Momma their Momma was almost herding them along ... it was beautiful and I cried and I know you would have loved it so much. But Oh that you aren't here with me to talk and laugh about such a lovely, lovely sight.

Spooky still not feeling well at all ... I took her to the vet this AM ... they may run tests ... oh God I can hardly stand it ... but then it's the Cross too ... I'll be back to get her tonite & gave them my cell in the meantime. This was all rightly done though Momma I know ... I promised you I would take good care of her ... and I'm trying, I'm trying ...

But the Cross really means Letting Go not in the sense of things not being f'd up and ignoring that but in the sense of acknowledging frankly if with all the anger of Job and the anger of You on the Cross O Lord that I have *no* Control over ... well over anything. All I can do is embrace my Cross just for today and follow You. What else is there to do. This is it. And it's all I'm called to do. ANd it's enough.

I'm going to do group now ... Oh Momma ...

Oh Lord ...

I do feel better please help me to remember priorities:

1. Cross of Christ
2. Cross of Christ
3. Cross of Christ

In that order.

Charles Delacroix
Feast of St Camillus
Bastille Day

Embracing the Cross

I am feeling much better now. Thank you Lord.

I went by Walmart tonite and kept seeing people walking together. Usually that plain old pushes buttons and I don't even know why. Tonite I knew ... I'm feeling the loss not only of Momma but of everything ... the loneliness beyond loneliness. And so what. The "alone into the Alone" is part of the Cross too.

That's really always been the biggest difference for me O Lord in the Here and Now ... between utterly crushing misery and utterly crushing misery with meaning. The meaning being the Cross. Your Cross O Lord.

Nothing else matters. Only Your Cross. Only Your Cross O Lord.

Rather everything matters. Everything. Because everything is Your Cross O Lord.

Help me O Lord to remember ... to breathe in the Pain, to breathe out the Pain

To breathe in the Cross, to breathe out the Cross.

What else is there really.

Nothing. Nothing but the Cross.

O Momma when I visited you tonite ... that seering, horrible feeling of loss was there ... but ... but somehow it made ... not sense, nothing makes sense ... but it was connected to the Cross ... and therefore not bearable ... nothing is bearable ... but the unbearableness is bearable, the insanity and the absurdity and the nonsense is all in the Cross and upheld in the Cross and transmuted by the Cross and colored all through by the Precious Blood flowing from the Cross.

All is Horror but all is therefore the Cross.

Therefore all is in the Cross.

Nothing else matters. Everything matters. In the Cross Alone.

Oh God

Oh Momma

Oh Jesus ... Your Cross ... You and Your Cross Alone.

The Church is in the Cross too. Even the alone into the Alone is the Church ... in the Cross ...

Oh God

Oh Momma

I love you Momma

I love you O Cross

I love you O Christ Jesus

I love you O Mary Most Holy

I love you O Body of Christ in the Church

I love you St Camillus

I love you O Job

I love you and thank you so much for my dear Momma

I love you and thank you for the Cross

Only the Cross of Christ

Totus tuus

Charles Delacroix

WALL-E and the Cross of Christ

OK I'm back home ... still struggling in this Here and Now but really feeling better. Still hurting ... but WALL-E (2008) http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0910970/helped. I cried and cried afterward. No not about WALL-E but of course for you Momma. I miss you so much so much so much.

But WALL-E opens with this panorama of devastation amid which WALL-E wanders alone and lonely but Doing His Thing ... Doing the Next Right Thing. All to the tune of "Put on your Sunday clothes ..." from Hello Dolly(1969) http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0064418/

For the lyrics of "Put on your Sunday clothes" ... http://www.stlyrics.com/lyrics/hellodolly-movie/putonyoursundayclothes.htm

As I walked out I still ached but had remembered O Lord Your Cross.

And ... Charles ... what part of the word Cross don't you understand?

Of course it hurts. It's a Cross. It's the Cross. To the bearing of which we are all Called by Christ Himself.

Oh God it hurts. It all hurts so so so so so so much.

But it's the Cross.

It's the Cross.

It's Your Cross.

OK then.

Shit.

But OK then.

Thy Will Not Mine Be Done.

"Take up your Cross daily and Follow Me."

Shit.

OK.

OK.

Thy Will be Done.

OK ... Just Do It ... Christ, Sheol and me

OK ... it's 2:30 PM

There's a WALL-E showing at 3:00 PM

I can make it

That'll be good

OK. I'm going. Just do it. Jesus, please come with me. Or rather allow me to come with You. Sheol can come along. So can St Job. So can all the Saints. So can Mary Mother of Sorrows. OK Gang. We can do this thing. Let's go. Into the truck and off to the movie.

Oh Momma ... if ... if God would allow ... and you would come too .... that would be so wonderful.

That too would be to respond to your passing with authenticity and honor and integrity

Momma I miss you so much. I just can't keep crying like this though. It's all so f'd up. No question about that. But I"ve got to go see a movie and get a break. Lord Jesus Christ Son of God have mercy on me a sinner.

Charles Delacroix
Sunday 15 in OT
Eve of St Camillus

St Camillus pray for me

Wrong ... in Sheol

How much is wrong ...

Momma is gone

Her dog is dying

The Hutchens Cemetery has been desecrated

I can't really do anything about any of these things

I'm alone, lonely, purposeless adrift in Sheol

But I've got to keep focus

None of that matters ... only Christ matters

Or rather it all matters, matters infinitely ... because only Christ matters

Oh God have mercy on me

Christ have mercy

Lord have mercy

Christ have mercy

Brown Eggs and Peanut Butter and Sheol

Well she didn't even eat the Brown Egg.

So I put some Peanut Butter on the Brown Egg and lay it down in front of her. She hardly looked at it. But I'm backing off hoping she'll eat. She ate a big spoon of Peanut Butter earlier this morning.

Oh Momma ... I'm trying ... I'm trying ... but Oh I'm so worried about her ... she sat in the car on the way back in the front seat ... I don't think she could even get the strength to get into the back seat ... I encouraged her to sit down but she didn't ... just sat as I petted and stroked her head ... I told her I love her and I told her you loved her and that she's just the Bestest Puppy Dog in the Whole Wide World ... just like you used to tell her Momma. I forgot to tell her she's the Prettiest Girl in Town. Like you did so much, Momma. But I tell her that all the time.

Momma I just can hardly breath it feels so ... so ... Sheol here ...

Maybe Grant was better off ... dying 8 days after his own mother ... oh God ... would that I could have left with Momma ...

Oh God oh God Oh God.

I'm going to go ... see a movie.

I saw The Children of Huang Shi (2008) http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0889588/ yesterday. So moving ... so sad ... so good ... so not so good. I kept thinking of you Momma. That's your generation. And I thought of Winston. And his time in China.

I've just got to get out ... and see you Momma ... and see a movie ... that'll sort of raise my spirits a bit ... always does ... :-)

I love you Momma ... oh God I just miss you so so so so so much ... and think Spookydoes too ... oh we miss you ....

Sheol .. the Valley of the Shadow of Death

This is Sheol.

It is.

It just is.

Oh God.

I finished mounting the info on the Hutchens Cemetery ... a very old, very undocumented family cemetery where my G-G-Grandparents are buried ... and much of Momma's side of the family. I mounted the info into Findagrave. And reading those brief, brief histories again ... and thinking of how they were inter-related ... how short the lives ... how tragic ... those 3 Burton babies all buried beside their mother ... my G-Granduncle, Grant, buried beside his mother, my G-G-Grandmother ... she died in the flu epidemic of 1916 ... and he died 8 days after her, his mother ... oh God how tragic how horrible ...

OK ... Hope in God you are my only Hope

But this really is f'd up. It's f'n f'd cup.

What Hope. What Hope.

Only this ... Oh Jesus ... oh Job ... you went through this ... you went through this ... and did not pretend that anything was less horrible than it is. The Cross is horror. All is horror. That's just the way it is.

I drove the dog a short distance ... she just couldn't make it to the park ... we took a short, short walk over at my old elementary school. She's old ... and her joints must hurt the way she walks ... I gave her aspirin but still she limps ... and she pants and I pet her and hug her and tell her I love her. Momma's dog ... I promised her I'd take good care of her ... but oh God she's really just not eating. I"m boiling some Brown Eggs, Momma, right now, just like you used to do, to see if she'll eat them.

Oh God Oh God

Why Hast Thou Forsaken Me

Oh God

Like living in Sheol

The reports of the old views of Sheol ... the place of the dead ... give these pictures of a place where there is perpetual melancholy, universal gloom, a place of listlessness, of hopelessness, of helpless, endless sadness and darkness.

The Church teaches that there was in a way perhaps such a place ... Limbo? ... the Place of the Dead from which Christ rescued those there in waiting during His Descent into Hell (Sheol) on Holy Saturday.

But oh Lord that's really so much how everything feels here and now. Like living in Sheol.

I just now finished writing something and posting something of interest to me ... and while writing I managed to forget for a few minutes ... and then I rose to get food for the dog ... and it all comes back, like a punch to the gut, and I'm left looking around on a room without Momma, a house without Momma, a world without Momma. And it all feels gloomy and hopeless and I feel listless and sad beyond sadness. My stomach feels empty, like it's had the air punched out of it. I just shake my head and cry and wonder why oh why oh why.

OK ... Momma ... Lord ... I'm getting out. I have your tea ready Momma. I'm coming. I'll be there in a few minutes. But oh God. It's hard it's hard to do anything. Or to want to do anything.

Oh God.

Oh Momma.

I love you Momma and I miss you so so so so so much.

I saw a picture of a dog ... a funny picture of a good old dog ... and thought, I'll have to say something to Momma bout this ... and you're not here ... and we can't laugh together over this picture of this dog. And I wonder just what is the point of anything then.

Oh God have mercy on me.

Oh God

I love you and I love you and I just wonder why.

Oh God.

Your Will be done.

But Oh God.

Charles Delacroix
Sunday 15 in OT
Eve of the Feast of St Camillus

Executor no more

I've been putting it off ... a packet from the lawyer's office has just been sitting over there and I've been putting off opening it.

I finally did. And sure enough it contains the Court's final discharge of me as Personal Representative / Executor for the Estate. Dated July 8.

Oh God. Oh God. Oh Momma.

Probate is over. The Estate is over. Finished.

Oh God.

Oh Momma oh Momma I miss you so much. So much. So much.

Beautiful sunrise this morning. We watched it together. Or would have watched it together. And told each other what a lovely, lovely morning it is.

No one at the cemetery except you and me and God ... and all the souls and bodies there ... and the host of Heaven ... no one else but the quiet morning watching the sunrise.

Oh Momma.

Oh God.

St Benedict pray for me
Holy Mary Mother of God pray for me
And Oh Jesus please please please please please take good care of my good Momma

Oh God.

Charles Delacroix
Feast of St Benedict

Bunny Rabbit

I pulled into the driveway and there was a bunny rabbit ... right in front of the gate, in the front yard, just where Spooky is usually lying, watching the street.

Momma, it really was very, very cute ... and you and I would have loved seeing it and talking about it.

Oh Momma.

I was driving home from a killer day at work just exhausted and thinking that I could hardly think straight ... and then thinking in only a few minutes I'll be at your graveside ... and then it hit me, like a sword in the heart, like a punch in the gut, like a sudden loss of everything that inside me keeps me together ... you're gone ... gone ... not here ... not here ...

Oh God

Oh Momma

Oh thy Will be Done Oh Lord

But Oh God

Oh God

Oh God ....

Light and Darkness in Hornersville

Momma, I got back from Hornersville yesterday evening ... and oh Lord ... such mixed, mixed feelings.

The Arthur / Hutchens Cemetery had grown up quite a bit just in the past ... I think ... 4 weeks since I was last there. And I found two large monuments toppled over.

Elijah Horner and Martha Horner's monument.

And E.J. Hutchens's monument.

There's a 3rd monument that came down in the past approx 2 months since I started going out to the Hutchens Cemetery there: the biggest monument of all, enormous really, 3 massive blocks one on top of the other, for H.N. Hutchens (Henry Nix Hutchens) and his wife Mary (Arthur) Hutchens.

All three I think must have been toppled by an irrigation boom passing over the cemetery.

I had spoke with the farmer who farms the land about the first desecration. He denied knowing anything about it and ascribed it to vandals. And I reported the 2nd desecration (what else to call it?) to the Dunklin Co Sheriff. He was very kind. But nothing sounds very hopeful about doing anything about it of a substantive nature. The land belongs to the farmer, or the person(s) from whom he leases it.

I spoke with Aunt Edna and she doesn't express much hope to say the least either.

Momma, I know, I know ... I really do tend to idealize this picture of Hornersville ... and of a small-town, family-oriented community, with a deep sense of community ... and rootedness ... and that speaks to my heart, torn by deracination, very much. That's perhaps the light side of a small town community.

The darker side is actually the "flip side" of the same deep connections. Someone with such connections can do much ... and get away with it ... because those connections will protect him/her. Not unlike the Mafia Omerta. If I'm seen as an outsider ... Justice is not the issue, but the question of who's an Insider and who's an Outsider.

CS Lewis was right ... speaking of Phileo ... and some allied senses of Love, like Love of Country. All very good as far as it goes.

But without an added sense of Goodness and Justice ... Phileo and Love of Kin and Love of Community can turn to Injustice ... with some truly horrible things countenanced and tolerated depending on one's "connections" in the community.

Oh God

Oh Momma

Thank you Lord for all the good things about Hornersville. Help me please to walk my walk in acceptance of the reality that may be Hornersville as well ... for good and ill.

And I must say there was so much that was moving in my visit. I saw the Joe Hole. I took pictures and Aunt Edna and Cousin Rosanna looked at them, and Rosanna confirmed that that truly was the Joe Hole. Means so much just to see and remember what it meant to you, Momma.

And now I'm off to work.

I love you Momma and I miss you so so so so so so so so much
I put flowers on your G-Grampa Samuel Arthur's and your G-Granma Louisey Goad Arthur's graves. May God in His Mercy allow that you all may be conversing of happier things even now. Thank you God for my Momma ... and for my G-G-Gransparents Samuel & Louisey.

And for all in my family ... and for all in Hornersville, past and present.

I ask by Jesus' Mercy Grace and Happiness such as is consistent with Your Will for all.

And for Your Love for Me Lord Jesus.

Charles Delacroix
Monday of Week 14 in Ordinary Time

Happy Fourth, Momma ... I'm bound for Hornersville

Happy Fourth of July, Momma.

I can't believe you aren't here ... we would talk and talk about the fireworks. And about our country. And about Grampa and his love of our country.

I'm on my way to see him ... and our other forebears ... in Hornersville.

I looked up the Bone Cemetery on the maps and hope to see Aunt Edna's delightfully remembered Effie Edmondson, too.

Oh Momma how I miss you.

I love you and miss you so so so so so so so so so much.

Please Lord Jesus please ... take good care of my good Momma

I love you Momma

I love you Jesus

Thank you so so so so so so much for my Momma

Thank you both

Thank you all.

Charles Delacroix
Independence Day
Birthday of Our Country
Feast of St Elizabeth of Portugal

Grief and Depression ... what to do ...

I've thought and prayed about this and although I asked for, and received, last week an Rx for Prozac ... I've been deferring and plan to continue to defer same ... for now ....

Depression is a real problem for me ... because it reduces my functionality so much it seems ... but there's just no doubt that for me my Depression comes straight from my Grief ... and Momma although functionality really is critical, I think using other means to vent and honor my grief is better if by God's crace I am allowed to do so ...

Oh I love you Momma and I miss you

I love you Jesus

Oh God I miss you Momma so much

Do the Next Right Thing

That's an old NA saying.

The trouble for me is that Doing ... Doing anything ... is such a challenge when I'm depressed, whether by grief or anything else.

Well I finally decided to go see a movie ... and visited Momma on the way. And cried and cried and told her again and again how much I miss her and ... oh God how painful and yet so right.

This was Doing the Next Right Thing. According to my Call by Our Lord to respond to the catastophe of Momma's passing with as much honor and integrity and authenticity and honesty as I can muster.

It was so nice there Momma ... with you ... oh God how painful ... and yet I felt so much gratitude that you had even passed your time here and had nurtured me and raised me ... and I felt such connection with others there ... and more gratitude when seeing the graves of those much younger than me ... yet most were from your generation Momma ... oh God how sad and yet as Momma said, "It's the way things are."

The way things are. Yes. But part of responding with authenticiy and honesty to your passing Momma is to declare with anger and sorrow and rage that this is not right, this is utterly wrong ... and in so doing I'm of course just a little reflection of Job ... who is a much greater reflection of You, Lord Jesus, on the Cross ... lama lama sabacthani ...

Then I went to see my movie ... WALL-E (2008) http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0910970/ ... just a delightful movie and I took away from it once again the affirmation that I am to Do the Next Right Thing ... that's all, no more, no less, no other.

Oh God oh Momma ... I miss you so so so so so much

Lord Jesus please please please ... take good care of my good Momma

I love you Momma

I love you Jesus

Charles Delacroix
Solemnity of Ss Peter & Paul Apostles

Denouement yet again

Spooky *really* had a hard time getting into the car ... she made it, but it was hard. She was walking so stiffly. It must be the arthritis.

We walked around the flood basin over by Memorial Drive UMC. Momma's Church.

We took it slow ...slow ... and even so, she was exhausted by the time we got back to the car. I had to help pick her up so that she could get into the Passenger Side seat. The seat that was Momma's seat.

She lay down and just lay there in the back seat all the way home.

I kept crying and crying .. trying not to let her see me ... oh Momma I have tried to take good care of your dog but oh ... oh she too is getting old.

It's Denouement all over again.

I fixed her dinner and put some aspirin in with her dog food. Fresh water. I gave her boiled eggs, Momma, just like you made them, earlier on. And I gave her some "bitesies" of cheese. Or as we laughingly called it, "cheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeez". Yes she liked that.

Oh God I just don't see how the hell people make it through these things.

I've got to get some brown eggs at the store tonite. That's what you boiled for her Momma ... brown eggs. Or as we laughingly called those ... "brOWWWWnnnnn EGGGzzzz ..."

Oh God I miss you so much Momma

So much

And now Spooky ... oh God.

I promised her we wouldn't attempt the basin circuit by Memorial Drive UMC again. She just lay there and panted and rested.

Momma in that last denouement ... I remember thinking again and again and again ... so many times ... that this would be the last thing like this we do together, or that would be the last of that thing we do together, and so on. And now with Spooky the same. Tonite is the last ... in all probability the last ... time that we walk together around the circuit of the basin by the church.

Oh God. We'll go for walks over at the school ... shorter, easier ... or maybe in the neighborhood ... if she can make it ... as long as she can make it ...

But that's Denouement ... tonite is a Last Time. There will be other Last Times. Until the final Last Time.

Oh God.

Like grass indeed here today gone tomorrow.

Help me God help me Lord Jesus I pray I beg thee.

Momma you walked the Way of the Cross till the very end

Spooky walks her Way of the Cross till the very end

May I walk my Way of the Cross till the very end

Love and Tears,

Charles Delacroix
Solemnity of the Apostles Peter & Paul

What I Want

It suddenly occurs to me that what's really driving this WTF business for me is this:

What I want ... everything I want ... is gone. Somewhere else. Not here. Not now. Not here-and-now.

Well. How very different is this from the past? I've always felt that kind of Sehnsucht driving me at some level or another.

But that's the point. Hunger,thirst, longing all can be drivers, can be motivators.

This enormous hole, this enormous absence, this overwhelming lack is leaving me not hungry or thirsty so much as just Not.

Oh God how I miss my Momma. My here-and-now Momma is ... is Not. Just Not.

Not Here

Not Now

Not Here-and-Now

My name may as well be Not.

Maybe it is. Doesn't Revelation say that in the Resurrection we receive a stone with our True Name on it.

Maybe my name is Not.

There is another name though for Not isn't there.

Oh God there is another name for that vast arid emptiness that seems nothing but pain and that is simply me ... me being Not.

But Christ Crucified is by the Cross of Suffering rendered Not at some level isn't He.

And on Good Friday ... all is stripped away and He is Not anything but pain and suffering pouring forth from His Cross

And on Holy Saturday ... O Lord You are Dead, Dead in a Tomb, you are Not, you are emptiness and waiting and vast, vast death ... in the Dead Heart of Jesus

So ...

So this isn't it seems such a bad place to be

If it's Calvary with You Lord, or if it's the Tomb with You Lord

Then it can't be such a bad place to be at all

So I am Not, I am Dead, I am Naught, I am gaping devastation ...

Responding as best I can to the gaping horror and devastation of your passing Momma ...

Well then

It all fits really

O God

O God it hurts so much

O God then it's right. It's wrong but it's right. It's the Cross of Christ.

So Dame Julian of Norwich is right.

All will be well and all will be well and all will be most well

But in the meantime ... before the "will be" becomes the "is" ...

Here I am in the Dead Heart of Jesus

Here I am on the Way of the Cross

Here it hurts it hurts it hurts

But it doesn't hurt alone ...

Oh Jesus oh Job oh Qoheleth

Not alone at least

Oh God havfe mercy on me a sinner.

Charles "Not" Delacroix

Miz Effie

I visited Aunt Edna ... and she told again, as she has before, of her wonderful friendship with Miz Effie. Miz Effie was a kind, good, elderly woman who had a swing in her yard that my Aunt Edna delighted to swing on. Miz Effie was neat and clean and married, but never had any children. Her health was always poor, and she died of a heart attack when Aunt Edna was about 10 years old. That would be in about 1937 or 1938. Aunt Edna sat with her Momma at the funeral and she cried and cried and cried ...

Rosanna showed me a couple of heirlooms, gifts from Miz Effie to Aunt Edna. A little ceramic bowl, and a little ceramic figurine of a church. You could tell these were very precious to Aunt Edna.

How beautiful the story ... but also, O Lord, how very, very, very sad the ending ...

Well ... the ending in this world ... O Lord I do hope by Your Grace if You permit perhaps to meet this wonderful Miz Effie some day if it should be your gracious Will.

Yet in the meantime ... in the meantime ...

Oh Lord I feel suddenly exhausted ...

Momma it was good to pray Office at your grave ... but oh I'm exhausted ...

So tired.

So tired.

Keep thinking ... WTF ...

De futilitates ...

O God have mercy on me a sinner.

I love you and I thank you.

But with Father Job I ask ... WTF ...

Love in the Ashes,

Charles Delacroix
Solemnity of the Apostles Peter & Paul

Spooky

Spooky ... Momma, your Spooky ... she's getting older.

I took her to the vet, who ran tests and said she's really in good health for a 14 y.o. dog. But for the past several weeks or month she just hasn't been running around as much as at one time.

I gave her all the antibiotic (for UTI) and other med (for gastritis) that Doc Rx'd. But she's still moving with such difficulty. She had a hard time just getting into the car yesterday. Then, when we got to Woodward Park, she didn't try to lunge or run at any of the squirrels like usual. Doc says she has arthritis. Makes sense. But oh God ... to see this dog *not* charge after a squirrel ... tore into my heart.

Well I'm making her some boiled eggs. That's what you used to give her Momma. And I'll give her an aspirin. I looked this up on the Internet and I guess this might help with the arthritis pain & inflammation from what they say.

What I read said I need to be careful not to overdo exercise on weekends with not much exercise during the week. Gosh I guess that's exactly what I've been doing. Sorry Spooky. And sorry Momma. I promised you at the end that I would take good care of her. I'm trying. I am.

OK ... so eggs and aspirin and mild exercise it is ...

Oh Momma though to think of Spooky getting older too ... I remember when you got her and she was just a little puppy ... and you always loved her so ... and she always took good care of you. She was companion of companions, and watchdog, and amusement, all rolled into one big ball of fur for you Momma.

I will take good care of her as best I can Momma. We both miss you so. Maybe God willing we'll visit you tonite at Evening Prayer. She is such a good dog.

I love you and miss you so much Momma

Oh God Oh Jesus please please please please please take good care of my good Momma

Charles Delacroix
Sunday 13 in OT
Solemnity of Ss Peter & Paul Apostles

Going On ... and Futility

One of the constant challenges for me of course is to even find a reason to go on.

My goal remains simply and solely, under Your Providence, O Lord, to seek to respond to Momma's passing with as much integrity and authenticity and honor as I can muster.

Beyond that I see no future. Beyond that everything seems to evoke in me a feeling of "What's the point when Momma's not here?" Beyond that everything seems to say to me "WTF".

I know O Lord that there is a reason for everything.

But O God

O God

De futilitates ... de futilitates ...

Yet ... yet ... this morning at the cemetery felt so good, painful, but good: the breeze felt good, the sunshine was lovely, the dew on the lawn bright in the sunshine, and it was lovely watching God's dewy sunrise while sitting beside your grave Momma.

Even as life seems over and my own days simply a matter of waiting for death ...

Even then I feel such longing and attachment to this life in the Here and Now ... as I think most mortals experience it ... as you experienced it I think Momma ... as you said more than once, regarding your own approaching death, "it's the way things are." Yes. It's the way things are. And in the meantime we mortals, here today and gone tomorrow, like the grass, we mortals enjoy the breeze and the sunshine and a good meal as God in His Mercy and Grace vouchesafes to send us.

Oh God I love you and I don't know anything do I. Except that You are God and You are all that matters.

Oh Holy Mary Mother of Mothers pray for me and my dear departed Momma
Oh Jesus have mercy on my Momma and on me

Oh God

Totus Tuus

I love you and need you and all that I am and think and feel clearly are Yours.

Have mercy God

Thank you God

Thank you

Bunny in the Back Yard

Oh Momma I just looked out the back window, and there was a brown bunny rabbit, picking and nibbling his way across the lawn.

Oh Momma you would have loved to see him. I was delighted of course but oh God without Momma here ...

Oh God have mercy on me.

Feeding the ducks

It was just beautiful at the cemetery this morning.

And Momma I saw a duck ... and thought about all those times in Knoxville when we fed the ducks. And all those times in Tulsa at the zoo feeding the ducks. You loved feeding them crackers and bits of bread. Oh God what I wouldn't give if we could feed the ducks together once again. Maybe that will be God willing part of the future in a better place.

Missing Your Acceptance

Momma I realized this suddenly yesterday ... or at least re-realized it ... I think I've said this before ...

Honestly you were in many ways the only person who could accept me as completely as you did to say the least. I mean ... I was at Philbrook. A very kind man said something ... he worked there ... and I was suddenly filled with social anxiety. And fumbled my words and he was very kind but oh it was painful ... and I came away fearing how that looked and felt. If that sounds like Avoidant Personality Disorder in action well ... probably.

But oh Momma ... I think about all those mothers who throughout their lives take care of "special children" ... the only ones who really accept them in a way ...

I guess in a way that's what happened to me, too.

Social anxiety has been part of my life for as long as I can remember.

And although to be sure there are things you and I could not talk about ...

Still this ... this fear of the other person ... was not for me an issue with you, at least not in the past decade or so.

I can still hear you saying, "One thing .... I will always be your mother, and you will always be my son."

By this you meant so many things. I am crying just thinking about it. But for me it meant exactly that. Nothing can or will ever alter that enormous gift.

Oh Momma how I miss you ...

Oh Lord Jesus Christ take good care of my good Momma ...

Oh St Peter and St Paul on this Feast of you and your apostolates, on this 13th Sunday in Ordinary Time, pray for my dear mother, and for me.

I love you Momma

I love you Jesus

I love you

Charles Delacroix