Tag: faith

like sand through the hour glass

Photo credit Honey and Salt
Photo credit Honey and Salt

I’ve written this post a few times over in my head, but I just hadn’t found the urge to sit down and type it in fear that it would make everything seem so final.

We got news on July 22 that Davey’s grandmother was going into hospice and would pass away within the following week. We immediately made plans to drive through the night the next day and head to Indiana to see her again and say good bye. I love that I married a man that can look at me and say, “I have to go see Nana…” So sweet and loving, he is.

Meanwhile, my grandmother had been sick for some time and was under the care of hospice. She had been suffering a lot — way more than she ever could have imagined, she said. I had said my “good bye” to her in June thinking I would probably never see her alive again. I can’t really write this without tears welling in my eyes thinking of how much she endured her last few months. The pain, the nausea, the discomfort. It would have been enough to make anyone lose their faith.

I’ll never forget our last day with Nana, Davey’s grandmother. Every aspect of her personality that I respect so much was shown–her humor, her wit, her decisiveness. She was an extremely smart woman who, although enduring so much loss in her life, was easily described by her granddaughter during the eulogy as “content” with who she was. She found contentedness with the path life took her.

When a grandparent passes away, there is suddenly the realization that a familial generation will soon be gone altogether. The awareness of time becomes too keen.

I clung to Seton, happy that pieces of our grandmothers are already evident in her personality.

We spent a lot of time with Davey’s family around the time of Nana’s death. I kept thinking, “Thanks, Nana, for these people.” I knew her for 4 years and because of her life, I have a family. I have people to grow old with. I have a daughter. I have my people.

Leaving town after Nana’s funeral was difficult.

I said good bye to my grandma, again.

By that point, she wasn’t able to speak. Sitting next to her, we saw her lips moving and knew that she was praying, “Hail Mary…”

I told her I love her, and somehow from the depths of her soul, she muttered, “I love you.”

Back in June when when Davey and I thought we were saying our final goodbye, she told us, “Love each other. Don’t stop loving each other.”

She always used to say when people pass away, we selfishly want them here with us. But we have to be happy for them, and let them go.

I never really thought about how I would be telling myself that when she passed away.

Three hours to Minnesota, my phone rang. My grandmother took her last breath. She was gone.

There is a sense of being disrooted when your last living grandparent passes.

She used to have an hour glass in her hallway. We would beg to open our Christmas presents right after Christmas Eve dinner, and she would tell us, “Go turn the hour glass. When the sand runs out, it’s time.”

I’d like to think she spent her life waiting to open her present, watching the sands run through the hour glass. Now it’s her time. She has wanted this for so long. I am happy for her.

The gifts from my grandma; my people
The gifts from my grandma; my people
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The gift from Nana; my people The gifts from Nana; my people

As when anyone dies, we pledge to honor them in our life.

The best way for me to honor Nana is to be ardent and keen with decisions I make for my family. Choose to be a powerful matriarch who stays firm to my values. Make good decisions and avoid comparisons. Accept heartache and loss, but don’t let it ruin me. Laugh until I die.

The best way for me to honor Grandma is to exude love in all I do. In every dish I wash. In every patient I touch. In every diaper I change. Never stop loving in the most simple and important ways.

Becoming a Selfless Prayer Giant

As I have mentioned before, pregnancy has made me view the role of Mary, Jesus’ mother, differently than I ever have before. I never grasped the extent of her love for Jesus, and although I still don’t think I can completely grasp it, I am able to understand it from a new perspective. My reflection during our hour of adoration today was Stabat Mater (At the Cross Her Station Keeping):

At the cross her station keeping,
Stood the mournful Mother weeping,
Close to Jesus to the last.

Through her heart, His sorrow sharing,
All His bitter anguish bearing,
Now at length the sword had pass’d.

Oh, how sad and sore distress’d
Was that Mother highly blest
Of the sole-begotten One!

Christ above in torment hangs;
She beneath beholds the pangs
Of her dying glorious Son.

Is there one who would not weep,
Whelm’d in miseries so deep
Christ’s dear Mother to behold?

Can the human heart refrain
From partaking in her pain,
In that Mother’s pain untold?

Bruis’d, derided, curs’d, defil’d,
She beheld her tender child
All with bloody scourges rent.

For the sins of His own nation,
Saw Him hang in desolation,
Till His spirit forth He sent.

O thou Mother! fount of love!
Touch my spirit from above;
Make my heart with thine accord.

Make me feel as thou hast felt;
Make my soul to glow and melt
With the love of Christ our Lord.

Holy Mother! pierce me through;
In my heart each wound renew
Of my Saviour crucified.

Let me share with thee His pain,
Who for all my sins was slain,
Who for me in torments died.

Let me mingle tears with thee,
Mourning Him who mourn’d for me,
All the days that I may live.

By the cross with thee to stay,
There with thee to weep and pray,
Is all I ask of thee to give.

Virgin of all virgins best,
Listen to my fond request
Let me share thy grief divine.

Let me, to my latest breath,
In my body bear the death
Of that dying Son of thine.

Wounded with His every wound,
Steep my soul till it hath swoon’d
In His very blood away.

Be to me, O Virgin, nigh,
Lest in flames I burn and die,
In His awful Judgment day.

Christ, when Thou shalt call me hence,
Be Thy Mother my defence,
Be Thy cross my victory.

While my body here decays,
May my soul Thy goodness praise,
Safe in Paradise with Thee.

I can’t begin to imagine what it was like for Mary to see her son nailed to a cross.

I am getting to a point where I feel like I have been pregnant forever. Not in a sense of discomfort, swollen ankles, shortness of breath, etc. It’s more like I feel like the day we found out we were pregnant (November 13, 2013) was forever ago. I have been preparing so long for the arrival of this baby. But after reflecting the Stabat Mater, I began to think that 9 months of pregnancy is giving me the chance to fully become who I want to be as a mother. It’s not only a time for the baby to grow and develop, but a time for me (and Davey) to become parents. We are growing and developing, too.

When I think of what kind of mom I want to be, naturally, I want to be like my mom. The best word to describe my mom is selfless. I think she has been completely selfless since the day my oldest sibling was born and remains that way today. Just this weekend, she planned a baby shower for me, made cookies for Davey and I, showered us with gifts, and gave us her time.

I also want to be like my grandmother. I would describe my grandmother as a prayer giant, a term I just learned of today when reading The Four Signs of a Dynamic Catholic. Matthew Kelly describes a prayer giant:

Over the years, I have encountered many great families in my travels. A number of years ago, I tried to work out what made these families so steadfast and full of life. Tolstoy begins the epic novel Anna Karenina with these lines: “Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.” What I have discovered is that all the great families I have encountered have a giant of prayer. These prayerful giants pray constantly for their families, surrounding them with God’s protection. Somewhere in the not-too-distant past is a person who was a prayerful giant. A prayerful giant is a person who covers their family with prayer, anchoring the family in God’s grace. Sometimes it is the grandmother or grandfather, the mother or father, an uncle or aunt, and from time to time you have to go back two or three generations, sometimes more. But you always find a prayerful giant in their family tree. Every family needs a cornerstone of prayer to pray for the family, now and in the future.

I have told so many people that “my life is so good because my Grandma is constantly praying for it to be that way.” I truly know that the opportunities I have been given in life– and the grace I have been given to take the opportunities– is a result of my grandma’s prayers.

Every good thing that has happened to me can be traced back to my mom’s selflessness and my grandma’s prayers.

So, as I prepare for motherhood over the next 13 weeks, I will spend a lot of time praying to be more like my mom and grandma: a selfless prayer giant.

My grandma and  a few of her grandchildren :)
My grandma and a few of her grandchildren 🙂

Lenten Reflection

Music is pleasing not only because of the sound but because of the silence that is in it: without the alteration of sound and silence there would be no rhythm. If we strive to be happy by filling the silences of life with sound, productive by turning all life’s leisure into work, and real by turning all our being into doing, we will only succeed in producing a hell on earth. Thomas Merton, No Man Is an Island.

17 weeks pregnant

I shared a room with my sister growing up. Our brothers’ rooms were right at the end of the hallway next to ours. At bedtime, my dad would stand outside our doors and say a “Hail Mary”. Our small voices would repeat each line after him.

After he walked away, I would always pray that I could be like Mary. I told God that I would be courageous enough to do whatever He wanted me to do, and I asked him to use me for something great, like he did with Mary.

As I grew up, life took some twists and turns, and I realized it’s not always very easy to know what God is asking of me. I spent more time doubting and questioning than I did saying, “I am the handmaid of the Lord.”

Through all the doubting and questioning, I still imagined that prayerful decisions I made in my life would fill me with an overwhelming sense of peace and allow me to reflect on how all my previous experiences have led me to fulfill the purpose God has for me.

Last Sunday in church was one of those occasions.

I have sang “Lord, prepare me to be a sanctuary” countless times in life, but that song takes on a different meaning at 17 weeks pregnant. This Sunday in church, I fully recognized that God has indeed prepared me to be a Sanctuary, pure and holy, tried and true. He is using me and my body to fully create another human.

With thanksgiving, I’ll be a living, sactuary, all for you.

Sometimes we don’t know where we are going…or what we are praying toward…but somehow it all comes together. And that’s when we get a glimpse into God’s plan.