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.

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Holy Days

Thanksgiving isn't necessarily a holy day, but it certainly springboards into one of the holiest of seasons.  I wonder how this season will be without Phoebe.  I expect the unexpected.  Waves of grief and sadness just tend to wash up and over, drowning me when least expected.  With holidays, there's so much anticipation that goes into the wait of the "day."  Maybe the "day" itself will be no big deal, but the road there will probably be rather bumpy.  Fortunately, we've been extended warm invitations for Thanksgiving.  At the very least, this hurting  family won't be alone to just stare at each other, to stare at the empty seat at the table.  In the past, we've always stayed home.  My mother-in-law will come over, maybe a few other relatives.  Sometimes even, my husband has to work, so we're accustomed to it being a low-key day.  This year, the first without Phoebe, we'll all be together, embraced by friends.  I'm grateful for that care. I'm nervous though, because even in the fun of friendship, the laughter, the joy ...pain seeps in and wraps around my heart.  I'm told this will happen less frequently and not last as long ...in time.  Another thing too, I know, is that it is not easy for my friends to watch me suffer.  Phoebe was my child, my daughter ...but she was well loved by so many wonderful women.  This is there loss as well.  And while they reach to console me ...they hurt too.  They hurt for me, for themselves and the big, awful question of whether this could happen to them too.  Their children hurt.  Phoebe's friends ...her immediate one's, but also the extended ones, older and younger, families, whole families are suffering over the loss of her.  Only gratitude will soothe this sorrow.  Thankfulness for being alive, being together, and most especially for having had Phoebe among us for seventeen years.  Yesterday, the 17th was her half birthday.  She's heading towards eighteen now.  How I would have liked to see that!

After that, the real season of holy days begins with Advent and our journey to Bethlehem.  I've always loved the season of Advent.  Not quite as penitential as Lent, it still is a time of sacrifice and reflection as we make our way to the manger where our Savior, our King awaits us.  We celebrate the wonderful feast days all along the way and its always been a fun way to approach Christmas and temper the commercialism that takes over, masking the real celebration.  On the eve of Dec. 6th, the kids put out one shoe (sometimes) in hopes of a treasure from St. Nick come morning time.  Dec. 8th is the Feast of the Immaculate Conception ...a joyful time to focus on Mary's purity from the moment of her creation.  Purely made, without original sin, she is the first tabernacle.  Dec. 11 we celebrate Our Lady of Guadalupe and the miraculous story of conversion in Mexico ...a promise for all of us.  Our Lucy especially loves Dec. 13th when we celebrate the feast of St. Lucy with steaming hot chocolate and some delicious pastry.  We will still do all this.  For me though, this will be a far more penitential season as I humbly approach the infant and ask his pardon for any hurt I may have caused my daughter.  I will also, though, approach with a glad heart because I believe I have been given a great gift.  After Phoebe died, we piled in the car the next day, the eight of us and headed to Bar Harbor, ME as had been planned with Phoebe.  We were visiting her dream college ...finishing what she had started.  Looking back, it was the best thing we could have done ....very healing.  Our last part of the visit we climbed the highest point in Acadia National Park.  The wind whipped while the sun shone bright.  I was overwhelmed on this mountaintop with the smell of pine, for me, the smell of Christmas.  I looked at Stephen, my husband, and said ...Phoebe is at the Nativity.  She is safe.  As I have said before, I do not know if Phoebe is yet in Heaven, but I know one day she will be.  The Christmas theme keeps popping up ....Christmas trees are on the pottery that miraculously came to us ...and other little ways outside the normal.  It has been revealed that it is on Christmas Day that more souls are brought from Purgatory to Heaven than any other day.  Whether it is wishful thinking or a real awareness, I have a strong sense that Phoebe is going to Heaven on Christmas Day.
 I could be wrong, but I am planning on celebrating Christmas, this Christmas with that in mind, while never ceasing to pray for soul.  It may be that very commitment, and those lifelong prayers I will say that will merit Heaven for her this year on that very special, very holy day.  Part of that journey towards Christmas will include the prayers and disposition of one approaching the King and offering my gift, my daughter, my Phoebe.

Stay with me as I seem to take a side trip.  For the past several years, I have sustained my life as a homeschooling mother largely because of two blogs I visit regularly.  Both of them are homeschooling mothers with a bunch of kids ...they share the journey and the struggle, all interfaced with and leaning towards God ...towards heading home ...to Heaven.  I've written both of them and let them know how much they have offered back to me ...without knowing anything about me or my life.  They have a gift, and they share it well and have probably kept many a mother from going crazy ...for real!  Both of them integrate their faith in their daily lives with their children.  I strive to do the same, but fall far shorter than them ...but I push on.  Both of them are worth your time ...because both live with and see God in the ordinary.  Elizabeth Foss is a Catholic mother who weaves the faith into her everyday.  I've learned so much from her.  Visit her blog "In the Heart of My Home" at http://ebeth.typepad.com/.  Ann Voskamp is the other.  She has Christ in her life as if He is right there beside her.  She asks real questions about real struggles ... she exposes the bone.  I don't know her particular denomination, but she knows Him in ways I hope to one day.  She is also a wonderful photographer.  Her music from her blog plays in my house every morning.  My kids tease me, but when its not on ...I hear about it.  You can visit Ann at Holy Experience, http://www.aholyexperience.com/.  Ann's oldest has crafted a beautiful advent wreath that can also be used during Lent.  It makes the journey to Bethlehem with Mary on the Donkey.  I ordered one.  I have not been asked to make any sales pitch on their behalf, I am simply sharing what I believe is a gift for me, for this particular Advent leading towards this particular Christmas.  Each day we will light a candle leading to the manger.  It will be light unto my feet, it will carry me forward as my heart sags and holds me back, and begs me to resist my offering of my daughter.  It will lead my way, in a real and physical form.  God offered us His son, Christ ...and He suffered, Blessed Mother suffered.  I believe with my whole heart that if I can make my way to the Manger, His Manger and offer my girl as my gift ...then, and only then can I take my place at the foot of the cross, only then will I have merited such a holy place.  So pray for me this season ...that I can bring Phoebe to Him, wrapped in joy and love.
The hands of a fifteen year old boy I do not know have shown me the way ...Thank you Caleb!

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