Memorare

REMEMBER, O most gracious Virgin Mary, that never was it known that anyone who fled to thy protection, implored thy help, or sought thy intercession was left unaided. Inspired with this confidence, I fly to thee, O Virgin of virgins, my Mother; to thee do I come; before thee I stand, sinful and sorrowful. O Mother of the Word Incarnate, despise not my petitions, but in thy mercy hear and answer me. Amen.

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Another Day

Another day is passing.  It is the dinner hour.  Phoebe had a game today, one I had planned to go to.  She promised me she would slide tackle someone.  I almost went anyway, but something held me back.  It's only day ten, so what do I really expect.  Most of the day I'm okay ...so much to do, lots of distractions. Around 4 though, the day gets thick and gloomy.  I feel like I am trying to swim through molasses.  I just have to believe that it won't always be this way.  I say the Memorare over and over, begging the Blessed Mother to come to me in my hour of need.  I beg her to swaddle me.  Around 9 it starts to lift and an incredible exhaustion overtakes me.  Thank God for sleep.

  I believe in the Gospel message.  I believe in the Resurrection.  I believe. I believe. I believe.  But I don't feel.  I don't feel the promise, and I want to so badly.  Maybe I never will.  But I choose over and over to believe that His promise is true ...is all Truth.  I have to, for my kids, my husband.  They deserve a life lived with richness and vitality and gratitude.  Pray for me to persevere, to hold on and to give thanks even if I don't know what I am thanking Him for.  I know Phoebe is okay ...more than that.  But those of us left ache. 
Friends come by, offer words, food, hugs ...anything.  It helps, it really does.  I am so thankful for the care, the tenderness ...the distraction.  I am so grateful to hear my kids laugh ...full and hearty.  Tonight, one of my daughters was singing in a funny voice, thinking her dad was walking in, but it was an adult  friend.  She was so embarrassed and laughed from the depths of her belly.  I stood by the laundry listening, feeling so blessed that laughter still has a place here ...a glimmer that we will go on.  We will be different, but it can still be good.  I don't know how, but it can still be good.  Someday ...soon, I hope and trust.

2 comments:

  1. I think the numbness is also a blessing: like Novocaine on a root canal. It helps to let in only as much feeling as you can bear at the moment. it's great to hear the children can laugh, and it's wonderful to hear your testimony of faith.

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  2. Thanks Gail,
    This weekend I spoke with my priest who assured me that God would allow it to wash over me only as I am able to bear. That's good to hold onto because otherwise, I'd be frozen waiting for the tidal wave. There are some big waves, but nothing that will destroy.

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