History ... it is what it is

Tomorrow we celebrate the Baptism of the Lord ... and the end of Christmas Season ...

I feel yet again that feeling that momentous things are passing away ... the First Christmas after Momma's passing is itself passing ... all things are passing of course ... but oh ... isn't that what makes History, all History, any History, ultimately tragic?

No ... not ultimately tragic. But penultimately tragic. Ultimately History is Christ. And only in Christ is there Hope. For me, for Momma, for anyone. For History.

But oh oh oh ... it hurts how it hurts ... it is what it is in History ... and in Christ ... but oh oh oh how it hurts ... oh Momma I miss you so much ...

Yesterday I used the very last Lipton's teabag from a box of 100 teabags that I bought along with Momma back in ... oh probably August ... again it feels like such a horrible loss ... the last of the box of teabags we bought together ... I bought another box though ... and so Momma I will keep bringing you tea God willing ... oh but I miss you so ... and miss seeing you with your tea so very, very much ...

I watched Friends and Cheers and MASH tonite ... being Saturday night ... oh Momma how you would have enjoyed these ... as always ...

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

And now tomorrow is the Feast of the Baptism of the Lord ... by St John the Baptizer ... whose birthday is also your birthday Momma ... oh John good St John please intercede for my dear Momma ... please pray as well for me ... that this life that feels so horribly, horribly, horribly futile ... may find even in my empty, dead soul ... a way forward rooted in your Baptism ... ikon of the Baptism that plunges us all into the Death of Our Lord and we Hope thereby restores even the walking dead such as me to the only true Life ... some day that is ... now is the time of Holy Saturday, of Death, of existence in name only in The Tomb ... Easter is for later ... in Your Time, in Your Way, if and only if it should be thy will O Lord ...

Oh oh oh oh oh ... how it all hurts ... how empty everything feels ...

I love you Momma

I love you Lord Jesus

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

Charles Delacroix
Eve of the Baptism of the Lord