I am deeply grateful to say that tonite was a really enjoyable Halloween.
By God's Grace I had resolved ahead of time to proceed as if Mom were still here. And of course for all I know she still is in a way. I can only hope and pray that she might have been here and seen and enjoyed our Halloween. There were very young children, little girls in princess outfits and little cowboys ... that I know Mom would have simply adored. How she would have cooed over them. There was a Spiderman and a vampire and a few ghosts and a Teenage Ninja Mutant Turtle and a Barney ... and more that I just didn't recognize. I know Mom would have enjoyed ... as did I ... seeing the little kids, and their young parents ...
I carved a large pumpkin and have started stripping its meat in order to make a pumpking pie. For the first time ever. So if this blog suddenly falls silent, you'll know I managed to poison myself and may or may not rejoin this site.
But it was so much fun. I took pictures ... lots of pictures ... and gave out lots of candy ... and found Mom's old little pumpkin, in ceramic, and set it up with a candle in it. And I imagined her sitting in her chair, and watching the little kids coming to the door, hollering "Trick or Treat" and carrying on as they do. Mom would have loved it.
And so did I.
I love you Mom. I love you Jesus.
And Jesus please take good care of my Momma.
Charles Delacroix
Halloween
Eve of the Feast of All Saints
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown
I'm watching It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown" tonite. The ad says this is the 40th Anniversary of this traditional annual presentation. See http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0060550/ ... which gives the original air date as 1966.
Oh how I miss my Mom. We both loved watching all these Charlie Brown TV programs. Now her chair is empty. And she is gone.
This morning I saw a whole lot of those little bitty purple flowers on the front lawn again. These have gold centers and are simply exquisite ... and exquisitely shy, as Mom and I both affected to consider them, because they are so small and grow so close to the ground. She's gone though. And I can't talk to her as before about these wonderful little flowers.
I can only hope and pray she can still see Charlie Brown and Snoopy and Linus ... and all these wonderful, delightful little flowers ... and even her son who sits here praying ... yet again ... that she might be happy where she is now with Our Lord.
Oh my. I still plan to go forward with our "usual" Halloween night tomorrow night. The pumpkin is here, though yet to be carved; and there is lots of candy on hand, although, alas, I've been having trouble staying out of it.
I was planning to try to cook up a pumpkin pie, too. I think I'll try to look up how to do this without burning the house down.
Oh Lord my God ... please ... please ... please ... take good care of my Momma.
I love you Lord and I love you Momma.
Charles Delacroix
Tuesday of the 30th Week in Ordinary Time
Oh how I miss my Mom. We both loved watching all these Charlie Brown TV programs. Now her chair is empty. And she is gone.
This morning I saw a whole lot of those little bitty purple flowers on the front lawn again. These have gold centers and are simply exquisite ... and exquisitely shy, as Mom and I both affected to consider them, because they are so small and grow so close to the ground. She's gone though. And I can't talk to her as before about these wonderful little flowers.
I can only hope and pray she can still see Charlie Brown and Snoopy and Linus ... and all these wonderful, delightful little flowers ... and even her son who sits here praying ... yet again ... that she might be happy where she is now with Our Lord.
Oh my. I still plan to go forward with our "usual" Halloween night tomorrow night. The pumpkin is here, though yet to be carved; and there is lots of candy on hand, although, alas, I've been having trouble staying out of it.
I was planning to try to cook up a pumpkin pie, too. I think I'll try to look up how to do this without burning the house down.
Oh Lord my God ... please ... please ... please ... take good care of my Momma.
I love you Lord and I love you Momma.
Charles Delacroix
Tuesday of the 30th Week in Ordinary Time
Saturday, October 27, 2007
Aeneas and Seeking for a Home
I read some more in the Aeneid, Book III this time. We have Aeneas, with his father and his son and the Trojans fleeing from their destoyed homeland, guiding themselves to Thrace. At Delos they seek the guidance of the gods in seeking a new home. They are sent to the land of their ancestors, meaning Italia; but at first they thought that the Oracle meant Crete, another ancestral home of the Trojans. All in all, Aeneas and the Trojans labor ... and work hard ... and err ... but keep seeking their new divinely ordained Home.
I too O Lord. For tonight I returned home ... home! The Home that has long been my home and Mom's. Now she is gone .. and her absence is painful indeed ... yet it felt good to come to this home even with ... or because it's with ... Mom's memories everywhere.
It felt good. I made linguini, and watched TV. MASH and Cheers ... Mom would have loved them. And I saw those little bitty purple flowers with the gold centers in the front yard again this evening. Mom ... and I ... loved these shy, beautiful, exquisite bits of God's Glory. All in all, I am very, very grateful for this home ... even without Mom .. even alone ... but still a home away from home in this sojourn in this world.
And Ohhhhhh ... how I do miss you MOmma ... O Lord Jesus take good care of my Momma ...
Thank you ... o Thank you Lord.
Charles Delacroix
Eve of Sunday 30 in Ordinary Time
I too O Lord. For tonight I returned home ... home! The Home that has long been my home and Mom's. Now she is gone .. and her absence is painful indeed ... yet it felt good to come to this home even with ... or because it's with ... Mom's memories everywhere.
It felt good. I made linguini, and watched TV. MASH and Cheers ... Mom would have loved them. And I saw those little bitty purple flowers with the gold centers in the front yard again this evening. Mom ... and I ... loved these shy, beautiful, exquisite bits of God's Glory. All in all, I am very, very grateful for this home ... even without Mom .. even alone ... but still a home away from home in this sojourn in this world.
And Ohhhhhh ... how I do miss you MOmma ... O Lord Jesus take good care of my Momma ...
Thank you ... o Thank you Lord.
Charles Delacroix
Eve of Sunday 30 in Ordinary Time
Night Time Visit with Mom
Last night, I was feeling very, very lonely, and missed Mom so very, very much.
So I went to visit her. It was late dusk, but there was enough light that I could use a little toothbrush I took with me to clean the dust and dirt from around the lettering on her temporary marker. Then I took a cloth and cleaned her marker off very clean. The cloth roses in her vase are the same that I bought for her the day after her burial, and I arranged them so that I thought she and I both might like them.
While I was doing this I was crying and crying and telling her how much I missed her.
It was getting darker and darker, until it was what Mom used to call "hard dark."
But I talked to her and talked to her and hoped and prayed that she might here me by God's Grace.
I told her that I had that day gone by Walmart, and bought a pumpkin, and a bunch of candy, for Halloween. I told her I was planning to celebrate Halloween just like we had been celebrating it. I told her that I remember so very, very well how much she loved sitting in her chair and watching the little kids come up to the door in their costumes. I told her I would be sure to give those who came some candy as we've always done in the past. I told her I was going to carve a Jack O'Lantern, just as before, and set it on that little outdoor table she and I had bought to sit beside us when we were "settin' a spell." I told her that I miss so so so so much "settin' a spell" with her in the mornings and evenings ... but I told her that I knew she would very much like our using our little table for a Jack O'Lantern to delight the little kids.
I cried and I cried and I told her I know that it's been 2 months but that nothing is right here without her. Yet I know that she's in a better place and I begged that if she can pray for me that she might do so; and told her that I in turn would pray for her in hope of helping her if such prayers might be useful for her; and knowing that if not, they could be applied elsewhere within the Body of Christ in this World of Suffering or in that (Purgatorial) World of Suffering. I told her that I was so very, very, very grateful for her ... that it has been a privilege to be allowed to be with her while she was in this world; and that I miss her very very very very much.
I talked a lot I guess. And cried a lot.
And I got a really strangely peaceful feeling suddenly. And a sense ... not of hearing ... not even of Ezekiel's "image of an image" or "vision of a vision" ... but a sense nonetheless of Jesus being there ... and telling me that Mom's OK.
I balled and balled then and couldn't stop balling.
And I don't know if He was there or not. Well ... of course He was there, He is in all places at all times. But I don't know much more than that I'm sure Mom's OK. I begged Jesus as always to take good care of my Momma. And I think He is.
I left then. The sky was clouded over and the graveyard very dark. But I felt ... what? Both enormous pain ... and enormous gratitude and thanksgiving.
Isn't that somewhere what that Trappist Guestmaster from Holy Ghost Monastery said ... that the Tomb, on Holy Saturday, was filled with the painful melancholia of genuine loss, but also full of thanksgiving and expectancy.
Dark is the night that precedes the Dawn.
Darkness shrouds Mom as darkness shrouded Our Lord.
Darkness enfolds Our Lady of Sorrows and the Man of Sorrows.
Darkness of the Tomb on Holy Saturday.
Holy Mary
Mother of God
Pray for us sinners
Blessed art thou amongst women
And blessed is the fruit of thy womb
Jesus
Holy Mary Mother of God
Pray for us sinners
Now and at the hour of our death
Amen.
So I went to visit her. It was late dusk, but there was enough light that I could use a little toothbrush I took with me to clean the dust and dirt from around the lettering on her temporary marker. Then I took a cloth and cleaned her marker off very clean. The cloth roses in her vase are the same that I bought for her the day after her burial, and I arranged them so that I thought she and I both might like them.
While I was doing this I was crying and crying and telling her how much I missed her.
It was getting darker and darker, until it was what Mom used to call "hard dark."
But I talked to her and talked to her and hoped and prayed that she might here me by God's Grace.
I told her that I had that day gone by Walmart, and bought a pumpkin, and a bunch of candy, for Halloween. I told her I was planning to celebrate Halloween just like we had been celebrating it. I told her that I remember so very, very well how much she loved sitting in her chair and watching the little kids come up to the door in their costumes. I told her I would be sure to give those who came some candy as we've always done in the past. I told her I was going to carve a Jack O'Lantern, just as before, and set it on that little outdoor table she and I had bought to sit beside us when we were "settin' a spell." I told her that I miss so so so so much "settin' a spell" with her in the mornings and evenings ... but I told her that I knew she would very much like our using our little table for a Jack O'Lantern to delight the little kids.
I cried and I cried and I told her I know that it's been 2 months but that nothing is right here without her. Yet I know that she's in a better place and I begged that if she can pray for me that she might do so; and told her that I in turn would pray for her in hope of helping her if such prayers might be useful for her; and knowing that if not, they could be applied elsewhere within the Body of Christ in this World of Suffering or in that (Purgatorial) World of Suffering. I told her that I was so very, very, very grateful for her ... that it has been a privilege to be allowed to be with her while she was in this world; and that I miss her very very very very much.
I talked a lot I guess. And cried a lot.
And I got a really strangely peaceful feeling suddenly. And a sense ... not of hearing ... not even of Ezekiel's "image of an image" or "vision of a vision" ... but a sense nonetheless of Jesus being there ... and telling me that Mom's OK.
I balled and balled then and couldn't stop balling.
And I don't know if He was there or not. Well ... of course He was there, He is in all places at all times. But I don't know much more than that I'm sure Mom's OK. I begged Jesus as always to take good care of my Momma. And I think He is.
I left then. The sky was clouded over and the graveyard very dark. But I felt ... what? Both enormous pain ... and enormous gratitude and thanksgiving.
Isn't that somewhere what that Trappist Guestmaster from Holy Ghost Monastery said ... that the Tomb, on Holy Saturday, was filled with the painful melancholia of genuine loss, but also full of thanksgiving and expectancy.
Dark is the night that precedes the Dawn.
Darkness shrouds Mom as darkness shrouded Our Lord.
Darkness enfolds Our Lady of Sorrows and the Man of Sorrows.
Darkness of the Tomb on Holy Saturday.
Holy Mary
Mother of God
Pray for us sinners
Blessed art thou amongst women
And blessed is the fruit of thy womb
Jesus
Holy Mary Mother of God
Pray for us sinners
Now and at the hour of our death
Amen.
Two Months since her Burial ... on Mary's Watch
Today is October 27, exactly 2 months since Mom was buried.
Saturday. A Holy Saturday as all Saturdays are preeminently Holy Saturdays since the Holy Saturday that Our Lord lay Dead and Waiting for Resurrection in the Darkness of His Tomb.
It is also Saturday, Mary's Day, and I was grateful to see this morning a beautiful full moon in the west as I took the dog for a walk in Woodward Park.
I got up early after a mostly sleepless night ... and it was still very dark. The moon was exquisitely bright and looked like George MacDonald's Moon in Phantastes or Lilith that looks over the earth with such kind solicitude.
The dog and I walked along trees and bushes that were black against a barely emerging light in the east, that gradually turned into a soft, penetrating saffron by the time we were done walking. It was as if Mary the Moon were watching over the earth from the West ... watching over me, then, and the dog ... as she and all Creation awaited the Rising of the Sun in the East.
Hail Holy Queen
Mother of Mercy
Our Life, our sweetness, and our hope
To thee do we cry, poor banished children of Eve
to thee do we send up our sighs
mourning and weeping in this valley of tears.
Turn, then, most gracious advocate, thine eyes of mercy toward us
and after this our exile
show unto us the blessed fruit of thy womb
Jesus
O clement, O loving, O sweet virgin Mary.
Pray for us, O holy Mother of God
That we may be made worthy
of the promises of Christ.
Saturday. A Holy Saturday as all Saturdays are preeminently Holy Saturdays since the Holy Saturday that Our Lord lay Dead and Waiting for Resurrection in the Darkness of His Tomb.
It is also Saturday, Mary's Day, and I was grateful to see this morning a beautiful full moon in the west as I took the dog for a walk in Woodward Park.
I got up early after a mostly sleepless night ... and it was still very dark. The moon was exquisitely bright and looked like George MacDonald's Moon in Phantastes or Lilith that looks over the earth with such kind solicitude.
The dog and I walked along trees and bushes that were black against a barely emerging light in the east, that gradually turned into a soft, penetrating saffron by the time we were done walking. It was as if Mary the Moon were watching over the earth from the West ... watching over me, then, and the dog ... as she and all Creation awaited the Rising of the Sun in the East.
Hail Holy Queen
Mother of Mercy
Our Life, our sweetness, and our hope
To thee do we cry, poor banished children of Eve
to thee do we send up our sighs
mourning and weeping in this valley of tears.
Turn, then, most gracious advocate, thine eyes of mercy toward us
and after this our exile
show unto us the blessed fruit of thy womb
Jesus
O clement, O loving, O sweet virgin Mary.
Pray for us, O holy Mother of God
That we may be made worthy
of the promises of Christ.
Signs of Contradiction
I was thinking of St Augustine's description of our human state of understanding of what's good for us; and of Vergil's description of Aeneas' bearing of Anchises. Both really reflect the Cross as Signs of Contradiction.
St Augustine's Letter to Proba (in OOR) is where he says that our state is one of "enlightened ignorance." Isn't that exactly right? Start with the fact that I know nothing: ignorance. But I am, purely by God's Grace, enlightened enough to know a bit of what I am to do and what I am to pray for. Just a bit though: for all knowledge is vouchesafed by God on a "need to know basis." Enlightened ignorance, though, is my state and the basis for everything I think, say, and do.
Vergil's Aeneid, Book II, is where he describes Aeneas' carrying his aged father, Anchises, on his shoulders as they flee a Troy that is burning behind them. As Aeneas bears his father on his shoulders, he describes this as a "welcome burden." Sure it's a burden; but one he wouldn't give up for anything. As with Mom. I actually miss taking her to the restroom and changing her Depends. This wasn't always, at one level, the most pleasant duty in the world. At another level, though, it was a sheer privilege. It was part of my intimacy with my Mother in her final year of life. And it was a very, very "welcome burden" indeed. Just as I, as a baby, mewling for food or change of diaper, was, I guess, a "welcome burden" to my dear Mother.
Likewise O Lord I do not understand ... O I simply cannot understand ... why oh why oh why my dear Mother is no longer here with me. But I know that in my barely enlightened ignorance that You know what I don't know; and that You know what is best for her, and for me. Likewise too, O Lord, I do not understand why this life ... and why life even can be, with a family that can be wrenched away so quickly; why I am vouchesafed a life that turns to dust and ashes as my life is now. Yet it is a welcome burden, even as my mother was a welcome burden to me, even as I was a welcome burden to my mother. The way of life is the Way of the Cross after all. A cross is in a way a burden to heavy to bear and too horrid to want to bear. At another level, it is a participation in Your Way of the Cross, Dear Love of my Life, O Christ. Your Cross itself is a welcome burden to you as my Cross is a welcome burden to me.
And O Lord what am I but, it seems, a welcome burden to You.
As indeed O Lord You are Yourself a welcome burden to Me.
I love you Lord. Please take good care of my Momma.
Charles Delacroix
Saturday of Week 29 in Ordinary Time
St Augustine's Letter to Proba (in OOR) is where he says that our state is one of "enlightened ignorance." Isn't that exactly right? Start with the fact that I know nothing: ignorance. But I am, purely by God's Grace, enlightened enough to know a bit of what I am to do and what I am to pray for. Just a bit though: for all knowledge is vouchesafed by God on a "need to know basis." Enlightened ignorance, though, is my state and the basis for everything I think, say, and do.
Vergil's Aeneid, Book II, is where he describes Aeneas' carrying his aged father, Anchises, on his shoulders as they flee a Troy that is burning behind them. As Aeneas bears his father on his shoulders, he describes this as a "welcome burden." Sure it's a burden; but one he wouldn't give up for anything. As with Mom. I actually miss taking her to the restroom and changing her Depends. This wasn't always, at one level, the most pleasant duty in the world. At another level, though, it was a sheer privilege. It was part of my intimacy with my Mother in her final year of life. And it was a very, very "welcome burden" indeed. Just as I, as a baby, mewling for food or change of diaper, was, I guess, a "welcome burden" to my dear Mother.
Likewise O Lord I do not understand ... O I simply cannot understand ... why oh why oh why my dear Mother is no longer here with me. But I know that in my barely enlightened ignorance that You know what I don't know; and that You know what is best for her, and for me. Likewise too, O Lord, I do not understand why this life ... and why life even can be, with a family that can be wrenched away so quickly; why I am vouchesafed a life that turns to dust and ashes as my life is now. Yet it is a welcome burden, even as my mother was a welcome burden to me, even as I was a welcome burden to my mother. The way of life is the Way of the Cross after all. A cross is in a way a burden to heavy to bear and too horrid to want to bear. At another level, it is a participation in Your Way of the Cross, Dear Love of my Life, O Christ. Your Cross itself is a welcome burden to you as my Cross is a welcome burden to me.
And O Lord what am I but, it seems, a welcome burden to You.
As indeed O Lord You are Yourself a welcome burden to Me.
I love you Lord. Please take good care of my Momma.
Charles Delacroix
Saturday of Week 29 in Ordinary Time
Friday, October 26, 2007
St Augustine is Right
For about the past week, the Office of Readings has been giving us for a 2nd Reading excerpts from a letter of St Augustine to Proba. And what a wonderful gift this has been. And for that matter what a wonderful gift St Augustine is.
The burden of what he's been saying, if I'm interpreting him aright, is, frankly, we don't know sh*t.
OK, he says this much, much better, but that's how I'm reading him.
St Augustine says that we don't really know what to pray for. We do have desires and wants and these are all connected with God, who is our only true Happiness. He says this again and again. And only a well-ordered desire can give rise to a right prayer for fulfillment of that desire. But since we don't, beyond our sheer wanting, know what to pray for, the Holy Spirit must help us in our weakness (Romans cap 8).
He makes clear that there's really nothing at all wrong with praying very naturally, and asking for what seems plainly and naturally desirable: such as our daily bread.
But in all our prayers we must, as does Jesus in the Garden, append "yet not as I will but as Thou Wilt."
And if we pray for something, and the opposite happens, it an only signify that God knows better than our prayer. A prayer for prosperity will not be granted if prosperity could mean our ruin; or God may answer, but send the truest prosperity that does not fade or flicker or rust in the evening of our sojourn in this vale of tears.
Oh but how hard it is. How hard it is. And thank God Himself, St Augustine, following Our Lord Jesus Christ in His Sacred Humanity, that this much at least is acknowledged.
I have sitting beside me copies of two professional journals, the Catholic Social Science Review and Suicide and Life-Threatening Behavior. Both just came in the mail. And both initially intrigued me ... as is normal ... and the CSSR especially I know will simply be a delight and pleasure to read if I open it up. It always is. But I haven't opened it. I looked at it and then suddenly remembered Mom. And everything suddenly seemed bathed yet again in the grey mist of futility again and I think, "what's the point?"
But the desire, that interest, in these journals are "normal" for me. I would not have felt this at all a month ago. Now I do. And the question looms up, is this the way it's going to be? I'll slowly "regain" my old interests, and I'll "move forward" ... leaving Mom behind?
God how I hate ... *hate* .... that phrase, "move forward". Move forward why? Move forward where? Move forward without Momma? WTF?
But is that what's going to happen? Would Aeneas bear Anchises from burning Troy, bury him in Sicily, and then ... forget? Or remembering as one remembers an old place or old acquaintance that is long gone and rarely remembered or thought of?
I just can't even bear the thought of this kind of "moving forward" even though ... when I think about it ... I guess this is in fact what we humans do.
And that being the case, why not despair of this life?
Horror before me and horror behind me.
Lord Jesus Christ ... please be my light in the darkness
Be with me.
Be with me here and now.
Thy Will not Mine be done.
Bear the weight of this Cross that I cannot bear
And please O Please O please ...
take good care of my Momma, please please please
How I miss you Momma.
God take good care of her.
Hail Mary full of grace
the Lord is with thee
Blessed art thou amongst women
And blessed is the fruit of thy womb
Jesus
Holy Mary Mother of God
Pray for us sinners
now and at the hour of our death
Amen.
Sacred Heart of Jesus, on this Friday in Ordinary Time, have mercy on us.
Charles Delacroix
Friday of the 29th Week of Ordinary Time
The burden of what he's been saying, if I'm interpreting him aright, is, frankly, we don't know sh*t.
OK, he says this much, much better, but that's how I'm reading him.
St Augustine says that we don't really know what to pray for. We do have desires and wants and these are all connected with God, who is our only true Happiness. He says this again and again. And only a well-ordered desire can give rise to a right prayer for fulfillment of that desire. But since we don't, beyond our sheer wanting, know what to pray for, the Holy Spirit must help us in our weakness (Romans cap 8).
He makes clear that there's really nothing at all wrong with praying very naturally, and asking for what seems plainly and naturally desirable: such as our daily bread.
But in all our prayers we must, as does Jesus in the Garden, append "yet not as I will but as Thou Wilt."
And if we pray for something, and the opposite happens, it an only signify that God knows better than our prayer. A prayer for prosperity will not be granted if prosperity could mean our ruin; or God may answer, but send the truest prosperity that does not fade or flicker or rust in the evening of our sojourn in this vale of tears.
Oh but how hard it is. How hard it is. And thank God Himself, St Augustine, following Our Lord Jesus Christ in His Sacred Humanity, that this much at least is acknowledged.
I have sitting beside me copies of two professional journals, the Catholic Social Science Review and Suicide and Life-Threatening Behavior. Both just came in the mail. And both initially intrigued me ... as is normal ... and the CSSR especially I know will simply be a delight and pleasure to read if I open it up. It always is. But I haven't opened it. I looked at it and then suddenly remembered Mom. And everything suddenly seemed bathed yet again in the grey mist of futility again and I think, "what's the point?"
But the desire, that interest, in these journals are "normal" for me. I would not have felt this at all a month ago. Now I do. And the question looms up, is this the way it's going to be? I'll slowly "regain" my old interests, and I'll "move forward" ... leaving Mom behind?
God how I hate ... *hate* .... that phrase, "move forward". Move forward why? Move forward where? Move forward without Momma? WTF?
But is that what's going to happen? Would Aeneas bear Anchises from burning Troy, bury him in Sicily, and then ... forget? Or remembering as one remembers an old place or old acquaintance that is long gone and rarely remembered or thought of?
I just can't even bear the thought of this kind of "moving forward" even though ... when I think about it ... I guess this is in fact what we humans do.
And that being the case, why not despair of this life?
Horror before me and horror behind me.
Lord Jesus Christ ... please be my light in the darkness
Be with me.
Be with me here and now.
Thy Will not Mine be done.
Bear the weight of this Cross that I cannot bear
And please O Please O please ...
take good care of my Momma, please please please
How I miss you Momma.
God take good care of her.
Hail Mary full of grace
the Lord is with thee
Blessed art thou amongst women
And blessed is the fruit of thy womb
Jesus
Holy Mary Mother of God
Pray for us sinners
now and at the hour of our death
Amen.
Sacred Heart of Jesus, on this Friday in Ordinary Time, have mercy on us.
Charles Delacroix
Friday of the 29th Week of Ordinary Time
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