Offer it Up!

It's funny how particular times of pain shift.  When Phoebe died that day, the whole earth shifted.  The pain was beyond words.  My heart felt like a bone, that was crushed, pressing inward.  My husband said his felt like pieces shattered in his chest.  That initial pain is gone, for now anyway.  What's left is an erratic trail of emotion that has its own life ...uncontrolled.  The pain of loss, the loss of Phoebe, is a journey I hadn't bargained for.  I like control, or at least a sense of where I headed.  I still do.  But I'm pretty sure I'm in for a bit of ride!  But there are places I arrive, both physically and emotionally, that offer a respite from the pain and an ascent to joy beyond words.  However, fleeting, they keep my hope fresh.
Last night, the Feast of All Souls, I was able to go to a Requiem Mass.  It is a Traditional Latin Mass (TLM) offered for the souls in Purgatory.  It was the kind of Mass (extraordinary form) I had wanted for Phoebe, but we decided an ordinary Mass would be best, given the number of people coming and most would not be familiar with the TLM.  It was certainly a beautiful, holy Mass and I think many people were struck by the reverence of her funeral.  So last night was an extra gift, because I could once again implore God's blessing on Phoebe, most especially His mercy, in the extraordinary form of the Mass ...a full Requiem Mass no less.
I was especially moved and comforted by the prayers offered on behalf of the poor souls.  In these prayers (which you will not find in an ordinary Mass) you are simultaneously begging for, and trusting in, God's immensely generous mercy.  The trend today is to assume, without any consideration, that when one dies they immediately go to Heaven.  But that simply is not true ...because Christ told us it is not true.  Most souls go to a state of purgation ...they go to Purgatory.  Some may immediately go to Heaven, like the baptized infant, unable to commit sin ...and others.  We can't say, because that rests between God and that particular soul.  Some even go to a place, too often forgotten or laughed about, called Hell ...where a soul is eternally removed from God's presence.  Christ spoke of this, quite a bit, too.
I can hope my daughter, still a child at the time of her death is in Heaven, but will pray and implore God as if she is in Purgatory ...for the rest of my life.  Knowing this, believing this, I was riveted by the prayers of the Requiem Mass because it is determined and expectant of God's mercy, while not being presumptive.  It made me think how much we have lost in a world that doesn't believe sin or hell are real.  When we don't live as though we could, by our own will,  be removed from God for all time, hell becomes unimportant.  Once that happens, and we casually, automatically assume our quick journey to our Creator, we stop praying for ourselves, each other, and most especially, our deceased relatives and friends who rely on our prayers to help them ultimately merit Heaven, by God's mercy.  This is terribly sad.  These prayers are treasures of the Church and I have shared them with friends I consider truly devout Catholics ...and they didn't know about them.  We should know prayers that are deliberate and begging.  They should be part of our life.  Pray without ceasing!
Pray always.  Offer your day, first thing, for the souls in Purgatory, for your children, your friends ...anything.
I used to think that living a life of prayer, living each breath for God, meant I had to be on my knees, totally engrossed in some mystical thought.  If I were a cloistered nun, perhaps.  But each of us, according to our state in life, can and should, offer everything we do back to God as a prayer.  We were laughing with friends tonight about the phrase,so familiar to us as children,  "offer it up."  But more, we were saddened to think that such a simple statement has been discarded from the Catholic vernacular.  In fact, there are massive graces to be received by such a simple, yet profoundly bold statement.  It doesn't mean, "shut up!"  It means, take that suffering, no matter how tiny (stubbing your toe) or large (losing your 17 year old daughter) and with a generous heart, offer it back to God.  It reminds us of where we've come from ...and where we're heading.  Most especially, it reminds us of those who've gone before us.  So if you could, perhaps offer up something small for my Phoebe.  I assure you, if she does not need it ....she will make sure someone who does, will.

Eternal rest grant unto Phoebe, and may perpetual light shine upon her.  May she rest in peace, Amen.

Giving Thanks

Today is the Feast of All Souls ...a day to remember all the deceased in prayer, especially those in purgatory who have no one to pray for them.  Souls in purgatory need our prayers, so offer them.  Many of us have been led to believe that when someone dies they go straight to Heaven.  That's a really nice thought, but Christ taught us that many of us will go to Purgatory, a place of atonement.  He also taught that some souls will go to Hell.  We can't change what He taught us, so I'm trying hard to remember these poor souls.  Being in Purgatory means that you will live eternally with God, so it isn't a permanent state.  I imagine I will spend some time there until God decides to be incredibly, overwhelmingly merciful to me.  So, today I offer my day for the poor souls' atonement and striving for gratitude.

I'm giving thanks hard today ...harder than ever.  It's the only way through, the only lifeline.  If I can't press myself, my whole being into God ....then what? No amount of anything else, anyone else, will soothe in the way my heart needs it.  That doesn't mean I don't benefit, feel the warmth and love, of those who reach out.  I do.  So what can God, my father do, that can't be replaced anywhere.  Well, I run to Him, arms extended He grabs me, holds me, presses me hard into Him, and just like a child He shifts me ...my position will change.  When He holds me, I can look out from Him ...and I can see all the beauty, all the people, all the creation that I am thankful for.  I can't do that any other way. Giving thanks, in all things, to Him is essential for life.  So what am I so thankful for?  Lots of things ...all of it actually.  Sometimes I put a notebook on our counter and begin a list. All of us add something here and there.  It's fun to see what others appreciate.  I'll start my list for today here.  Believe me, it won't be easy, but it will get me going in the right direction, the best direction.
1.  Phoebe's 17 years, 4 months and 22 days she spent here with me.  I miss you girlie!
2.  Faith ...I am so glad to have been abundantly blessed with this.  Please increase it more God!
3.  My husband to have shared these dark days with, remember the details of our girl.
4.  Each of my kids ...and that they have laughed and cried, laughed and cried, laughed and cried.
5.  An aching heart ...that tells me it hurts, not from atrophy, but from lots of use.
6.  Mass ...when I'm there, I settle.
7.  Blessed Mother statue in my backyard which catches the first light of day and sends it to me in
     my kitchen.
8.  Treasured friends ...they fit me so well.
9.  St. Joseph.  He's been my go to saint for a long time.  He doesn't make himself obvious, at least to  
     me,  but he is so RELIABLE.
10. My Rosary girls ...years of praying together, knowing each others' dearest petitions, loving each
      other well.
11.  Phoebe's closest friends ...they really loved her ...and cared about her well-being, her wholeness.
12.  This is by far the hardest ...Thank you dear Lord, for taking her.  I freely offer my beautiful, feisty
       daughter to you.  She was never mine fully, but always Yours.   It hurts so much, but I know You
       love her more than I ever could.  I offered my very best, and You saw my joy and my struggle.
       Your reason and wisdom is far beyond my grasp, but I trust You, fully and completely.  In Your
       truth, though, You did not will such a horrible act, You allowed it for a greater reason.  I know  
       she is cared for now in the best possible way.  I can't wait to see Phoebe again and tell her how
       much I love her.
13.  That this list will grow throughout the day ...my gratitude will increase.

Today, I offer my thanks for all I've been given, and I ask all the angels and saints to hold me up and lead me.

Eternal rest grant unto Phoebe, and may perpetual light shine upon her.  May she rest in peace. Amen.

The Value of Life

Someone shared with me during the days immediately following Pheobe's death, something they had just read.  It talked about a generation that refused to give up its youth and how they have given birth to a generation that didn't want to live.  I wish I could remember who said that because I believe it and understand the truth of this thought.  Consider that idea for a moment.  Here we are, racing the clock to turn back aging and eliminate any kind of suffering, in fact, any kind of inconvenience.  And yet, we are a nation that casually, and even with great earnest, destroys its very future.  Approximately 4,000 abortions occur every day.  That is a staggering figure ...actually, its a big money making industry that has lied to our youth.  Over time, this has sent a loud, strong message that life doesn't matter unless it is convenient.  There's plenty out there who disagree with me, argue an individual's right to choice.  I'm not in a place right now to take on that fight ... to lead you to staggering, stunning statistics that would make your head spin.  All of which, are cunningly ignored or spun by our media.  But I am in a place to share with you the effect this "modern" view had on my own daughter's confusion and perception of how the world operates.
No matter how a life is created, we are a family who treasures that life.  There is no baby that is not "wanted."  There is no complicated situation that cannot be dealt with.  There is no reason, ever, to kill a baby.  Babies are ALWAYS good.  Phoebe could not wrap her head around how the world could so easily dismiss the life of an unborn baby ...and yet, it seemed, everybody defended that "right"  ....except us, and many of our friends.  Even our own Church leadership cowers from taking a firm stand, after all it could impact the collection basket.  We have plenty of clergy who "spin" the theology and twist the teachings to make people "comfortable" with abortion ...somehow make it palatable.  In fact, those of us who have spoken out have been marginalized, even vilified by our own shepherds ...not all of them, but plenty of them have spoken of the "grave disservice" we commit.  Many of us were publicly chastised for defending Church teaching.  How does that make any sense?  How does that protect the treasures of the Church?  Phoebe witnessed this and it caused such great confusion for her.  We had lots and lots of conversations around this particular cultural issue.  Most often it came down to her asking how and why people could be in favor of killing innocent lives ..babies.  Our answer was and still is ...they've been lied to.  Most people who either staunchly support abortion rights, or who waver unsteadily really don't know the facts ...because they've been lied to.  Plain and simple.  The ramifications of abortion on our culture is devastating ...for individuals, catastrophic.  I am not exaggerating ...though, I know there are people who will chuckle over these statements.
I don't consider myself a terribly political person ...but I am a mother and I pay attention to the culture and its influence and effect on my children.  If you think your children aren't confused by a culture that seeks to preserve youth as people age (I'm not talking about eating well and exercising, I'm talking about a cultural obsession with looking 20 when you're 60), AND kills there own future at a rate of 4,000 a day ...you are dead wrong.
So why this strong entry today ...because tomorrow is election day!  And I beg each of you to vote for the protection and preservation of life.  Look, there's plenty of "Catholics" on the tickets who dismiss Catholic teaching ...some of them have done their fair share of dismissing me.  Think about this!  Can you really vote for someone who will NOT (time and time again, even in the simplest of ways) defend and protect the most defenseless of us all?  If they can't do that, what makes you think they will defend you? Certainly, there are other issues, but none as important as this!  We can work with someone who isn't great on immigration, the economy, education and a host of other issues...but strives to protect the unborn.  One could be right on all those other issues, and wrong about life ...by extension then, they're intrinsically wrong on everything else ...even when they seem right.  Right is right when nobody's right, and wrong is wrong when everyone is wrong. 
I for one, hope America wakes up tomorrow, and takes back the reigns and rights of our parenthood.  Don't be fooled ...you're much smarter than that.  Show your kids that you are not confused, not contradicting.  Show them you want to protect our future.  Assure them that they and there own children, your grandchildren will be safe.  Give to God what is God's!
If our culture had its priorities in order, maybe Phoebe would still be alive today ...maybe!

Eternal rest grant unto Phoebe, and may perpetual light shine upon her. May she rest in peace. Amen.

Stillness

I'm finding that sometimes I just need to be still.  I'm a doer, a worker bee ...that's a mom's life in a busy household.  It is also my nature.  To be clear though, I can often be "busy" and accomplishing "nothin'." When I am still, I can see her, talk to her.  I sat in her room today and told her how the day looked.  We chatted about some of her favorite things.  Mostly, I just sat for a bit, being in her place she loved.  It's a bright sunny spot, painted bright pink and on one wall 8" lime green stripes.  She had interesting taste in artwork.  Once she told me exactly what she was looking for ...a black metal cityscape.  I found one unexpectedly one day at Marshalls, and we both laughed about how it was in her head, but we'd never seen one before.  I looked at that today, remembering how she had redone her room after her brother left for school.  How she must have been grasping at redefining space herself.  Her big brother was everything to her.  When he left, her world changed ...and that wasn't easy.  People leaving was never easy for her ...even if just for a bit.  Phoebe didn't like change all that much.  We all adjusted, slowly, to life without Stephen as he became immersed in a different world at the Air Force Academy.  I had the diversion of my other kids ...and still, it tugged.  When he left and came home, it was another change, she had adjusted and now ...she had to redefine her space, again.  She didn't like that.  Well guess what Phoebe, I don't like this one bit ...this redefining space thing.  I want you back here with all your energy, sass and song.  I want to watch you climb the stairs two at a time, slide over to the counter, lean on both arms ..."Moooooommm."  I want to tell you to stop re-parenting my children, let me do my job without interruption.  I want to watch you tell everyone to stop picking at dinner as your jaw chews whatever we're serving.  I want, I want, I want.  What I want and what I need are two very different things ...something we struggle to help our kids understand and discern (not an easy task in the culture of our times).  But what I need, what do I NEED?  I need to turn always to God ...and I struggle to constantly and arrive for moments at a time.  And when I do in those moments find myself in the presence of God, I rest ...I am still ...and only there will I restore.

Eternal rest grant unto Phoebe, and may perpetual light shine upon her. Amen

Three Weeks

Today dawned with a weighted heart.  Saturday, soccer game day, just like the day Phoebe died three weeks ago.  I wonder if Saturday will ever feel different for me or any of us again.  I watch the clock and remember the details of that day at specific moments.  Will it always be this hard to wrap my head around this terrible nightmare?  Tensions run high here sometimes.  How can they not when everyone is missing her, wanting her? We're honest, at least, keenly aware that our barks at each other are really just a scream "Why?, How?"  We ask each other questions "did I ever...?"  "was I ...?"  "should I have seen ...?"  We shake our heads, no answers, assuring each other that we didn't cause this ...couldn't have prevented this.  But what if?  We're told over and over, this happens, out of nowhere ...a perfect storm they say.  Everything converged in a moment's time ...gave that push that typically isn't there.  But it was, and now this.  This hole in our home.  Not only in our home, but beyond.  Friends struggle, bonded, entwined, they've lost a best friend ...the best friend ever ...the friend who made them laugh, see the adventure of life, made getting an ice cream a journey.  A bike ride became a ride on a Harley, a swim turned into water ballet with the Loch Ness monster, hanging out became a giggle fest filled with song.  Am I exaggerating ...no, this was Phoebe.  So how, someone please tell me how, this girl with an incredible zest for life, did she arrive at place where life was not worth living?  Phoebe could push every button I have all at the same time ...and do it again, right away.  She pushed hard because she lived hard.  In poker they call it "all in."  Phoebe was "all in", all the time.  I just do not, in any worldly way understand any of this.  I'm still waiting to wake up!
But in a spiritual way ...I can grasp some of it.  Not all certainly, but I can trust and understand.  Still I cannot see signs that indicated what would happen, but I see other signs.  I have my usual saints I talk to, pray to, implore.  Other saints began making themselves known to me.  Reading something that prompted a thought, a tilling of my heart, readying for a new planting, of what I had no idea.  One that specifically stands out is St. Padre Pio.  He has been following me for almost a year now.  I have a good friend I've shared this with along the way.  I'm not particularly drawn to Padre Pio, in fact, he sort of scares me.  ...He holds nothing back, tells us to give it ALL to God.  I prefer a saint more maternal, more akin to my preferences.  I would be thinking of something, wrestling with my own conscience and would suddenly notice a picture, a statue of Padre Pio.  It happened over and over.  Once, I was going to confession and had something I really didn't want to discuss, but knew I had to.  I was afraid a certain priest would know my voice (which doesn't matter, but I am human!), so I wanted my turn to happen with another priest.  I looked up there was Padre Pio, I avoided his gaze by turning and there he was again.  I remember being a bit annoyed.  "How did he manage such a prominent position in this church?" I wondered.  Later, when I headed to work, I noticed him on a shelf in the building,  Just a little picture of him smiling.  I first noticed it as I was grumbling to myself about my ungrateful children and how they didn't appreciate me ...there he was, calling my bluff, adjusting my perspective.  I always greeted him from then on.  But two days before Phoebe died, I passed him ...there were four images of him instead of just one.  I called my friend, giggled.  "Oh, I think Padre Pio knows something big will happen ...better watch out."  Little did I know.  I'm still not sure what his role is in my life ...  He's known for extracting the last drop of hesitation from people who claim they have given all to God.  What more could there be for me to give?  I wonder?  People will say, Carolyn, nothing more could be asked of you, nothing more could be given.  Really?  I think I can give more ...and keep giving.  I freely give to God my Phoebe.  I don't want to, it hurts way too much, but I will and I do, over and over.  Every day we can give everything to Him.  Today I'll give Him my trust.  And I'll trust that He will be generous in guiding me.  Over a week ago, a friend dropped a few things off for us ...she also left me a prayer book mark.  I looked at it several times, but didn't read it ...until today.  I think it was meant to wait for today.  It's from St. Teresa of Avila (the one who said,  "God, if this is how you treat your friends, no wonder you have so few!)  But it is a beautiful and soothing thought ...I hope you find that to be true as well:

Let nothing disturb you
Let nothing frighten you,
All things pass away:
God never changes.
Patience obtains all things.
He who has God
finds he lacks nothing
God alone suffices.

Thank you dear friend for giving this to me, and thank you St. Teresa of Avila.  I will trust Him who has given me everything.

Eternal rest grant unto Phoebe, and may perpetual light shine upon her.

Logistics

Quite a few people have mentioned they've tried to comment on this blog but couldn't.  So, here's my advice ...I am seriously lacking in computer savvy, so be patient with me.  You need to get a gmail account.  It's easy and free!  I did it, which speaks to the ease and accessibility. Once you have that account, you can sign in and leave a comment ...which I would love to hear.  If anyone has better information, please share, so readers can have the access and dialogue they want.
Starting this blog has been a nice thing for me and I am glad people are enjoying it.  Part of why I wanted to write in this way is because I know how many hearts are broken over Phoebe's death.  I know that much of it is out of empathy for me, her mother, and the rest of our family ...and I am so grateful for the tender care and concern.  But the reality is, your  hearts are broken too.  Phoebe was a part of many people's lives.  Memories made include her in multiple families ...over seventeen years, whether at the beach, at parties, labor day movie night, late night bike rides downtown, babysitting, sneaking diet coke in the car, surfing, complaining about a friends beautiful renovation of a dilapitated cottage (Phoebe always thought it should have been left alone, even though the kitchen and back bedroom were sloping into the ground), having her sister and friends swim across a shipping channel (not quite, but close).   You get my point ...she helped all of us live large.  Friends were made and loved well.  Her friends' hearts ache as they struggle to make sense of her absence.  The sisterhood among them brought a constant joy to me.
I'm a social person, I love my friends ...generally, I like people!  We are taking good care of each other, loving each other well.  I want to comfort you all too, at least as much as I can.  We will move on, and we will live well.  Life is still good.  So let me hear what you have to say.
I am so glad to be surrounded by such wonderful people to share the missing, remember the loving, and cherish her "smile like the sun and her eyes that danced."
Goodnight sweet Phoebe!

Grace

Slowly, I've been able to read again.  I don't know why it's been difficult for me, but it has.  I can read my prayer book.  Now I can read a story from a dad who lost his son, one of seven, over twenty years ago.  I read a little each night before bed.  His family's story is different than mine, but there are some things, many actually, that he mentions that resonate with my own experience.  Space is a big, big issue.  I never considered it before.  Space issues aren't my "thing"  ...ask my husband.  It's probably been one of his greatest challenges in marriage to me.  But now, I notice space ...empty space, where Phoebe is supposed to be.
I started writing about reading, so let me get back there.  One of the first thing we were given came from the support group for parent's who've lost a child.  Healing After Loss: Daily Meditations for Working Through Grief is a little book that offers a little gem each day.  I try to read that, and many times, it hits home with something weighing heavy.  Today's was touching and helped me tweak my perspective a bit.
"Shall we live in mystery and yet conduct ourselves as though everything were known."  (someone named Christopher Fry wrote this.)  In brief, it asks why we don't accept some simple little things that happen in life are little ways that God, or our loved ones are letting us know they are looking out for us.  "There is always reason for doubt. There is also room for faith and hope.  That is the nature of mystery."  So I've started paying closer attention to little things, while trying to not make more of something than it simply is.  Others have shared some things with me they were sure came from Phoebe, and truthfully, they do sound like her.  My sister-in-law told me that she was under a tree after the burial and acorns started plopping on her head, plop, plop, plop ...then a cascade.  She couldn't figure out where it was coming from, and then realized it was a Phoebe maneuver.  Yes, indeed, that is something Phoebe would have done.  She would have plopped them one by one,  then quickly grown bored and dumped the whole handful. 
For me, I've worried so much about her, the state of her soul ...things a Catholic mom puts at the top of her list for all her children.  Hundreds of thousands of Masses are being, have been, offered for her ...and still I worry.  I probably will until the day I die, but I try to be confident.  I've already scheduled two Masses for her at our local parish, last Saturday, and today.  Both times the priest did not offer those Masses for Phoebe.  It was really and understandable oversight that I understand.  Today, when it was clear she wasn't being verbally mentioned, I had a prompting that perhaps she didn't need this Mass and she was giving it to someone else.  At her funeral, Fr. Higgins, talked about God's time being radically ...completely different than our concept of time.  So the possibility, the hope, that God knew all these Masses were needed and were being offered, has allowed her to take her place in Heaven.  We can get into some heavy duty theology here ...and I am not gifted in explaining it well.  But I believe every ounce of it and hold it very dear. So I really thought about that all day.  I asked for a sign, something, anything that would assure me that Phoebe's soul was in a good place.
Later in the day, I was talking to a very special friend and telling her the best way for me to deal with this great loss was to say thank you, over and over, to God for allowing this.  In His infinite wisdom, knowing and being all eternity, though he did not will this for Phoebe or us, he allowed it ...  There is a reason here we do not know or understand and will not until our own end.  I fully and totally accept this and thank Him continually.  And it has brought me peace.  This friend knows me well, she has seen the barest parts of my heart, has walked with me through trials and challenges, has loved my children and shared my joys.  Her response was one of disbelief that I could be in this place so soon.  It wasn't because of me ...it was a gift, a grace of enormous proportions.  But as I responded, it came to me just why.  Phoebe lived with intensity, a fullness not shared by most.  She is truly an extraordinary soul, not without her faults and in no way perfect.  However, she had a force about her that is unmatched.  Her dad has said she could kick a soccer ball through a concrete wall.  Phoebe could be sheer power, and at times, it could be scary.  That personality doesn't change, those traits remain with the soul, but once with God are only used in the most pleasing way for Him.  Of course Phoebe, with sheer power and force, begs for her mother's peace.  Phoebe has prayed and requested that my vision not be clouded, that my gaze remain fixed.  I know this for two reasons, two experiences Phoebe and I share. 
First, though I would grow weary when Phoebe challenged me about my faith, our faith, I never rejected or reduced God or our beliefs in any way.  I told her that I would never deny God what was rightly His,  even for her.  God would always come first.  I think that both annoyed and comforted her.  But she saw that I would not, will not waver on the Truth.  I won't beat people up over it, but I will not accommodate anything that undermines or dismisses my faith. Period!  I'm not saying I get it all right all the time, but I certainly aim for that and in my humanity, I falter.  So Phoebe knows I strive for the Truth in all things.
The second reason I know this is a bit more "of this world."  When Phoebe was seven or eight, she insisted on going on a ride at a carnival that I thought she wouldn't like. (by the way, I do not like carnivals).  She insisted, and she was an adventurous kid, so I relented.  I watched as the ride picked up speed and took on a life of its own.  I watched only her face, huddled next to her big brother who had his arm wrapped tightly around her.  The look she had was sheer terror.  With three little ones in tow, I climbed the stairs to the "ride guy."  I screamed "Stop the ride".  He laughed, "Lady, I can't stop the ride ...two more minutes"  "Stop the ride" I screamed again.  "My daughter is on that and she is terrified, let her OFF!"  Over and over.  He moved the gears, the ride slowed, then stopped.  He opened the door for her and out she flew into my arms.  He moved the gears again and the ride resumed, while Phoebe calm and safe stood by my side with her little sisters.  Now, in fairness, I probably was nursing and had leaking breasts through my shirt.  He probably thought I was a lunatic and he would be killed by the "breast milk lunatic"  if he didn't do exactly what I hysterically commanded.  (I got out of a speeding ticket once due to this!)  Phoebe saw me rescue her when she needed it.  I imagine she is returning the love her mother showed her in that particular instant.  In fact, maybe she is saying "God, I gotta be real clear here, I've seen her before ...You could have a real bad situation on your hands ...just be glad she's not nursing anyone and shower her with a whole lot of grace ...please!"  Are these little, or big signs, from Heaven?
Now another interesting thing happened. People have been overwhelmingly generous with preparing meals for our family.  And it has been wonderful because it covers a very tender, vulnerable time in our day ...the time everyone came home ...the time Phoebe would arrive home from school and soccer.  Hearts sag around this time and there is lots of hugging and holding for me to do at I time I would normally make dinner.  We had so much from last night left over ...another full casserole (we are being very well loved and cared for!), while another dinner was being delivered.  I thought I would share the wealth with a dear friend who has a busy afternoon schedule, about 4000 children (she's a crazy Catholic, go figure?) and has fed me so many times during my excursion to nursing school last year.  I called her house, spoke with her daughter and told her I would try her cell phone (that she has had for about ten years, but has only started using in the past two months and now can't stop texting!).  I called her cell phone once.  Her daughter called her cell phone once.  We never made contact.  All of a sudden she is at my door, winded.  I wave to her as I am on the phone to come in.  She steps in and puts a finger up ...she is composing herself.  "Come up, I have something for you!"  "Carolyn, is everything okay, Mary called me and said you called and then I saw you had called my cell phone a few times and I thought you MUST need me right away.  I tried calling your house and it wouldn't go through.  I was heading into the grocery store to get something for dinner, I had so little time before picking up the boys, but when I saw you had called so many times I got really worried."  I asked her "Did you go shopping?"  "No, I left right away to come here, I thought you must have needed me."  I pulled the casserole from the fridge and put it on the counter in front of her.  Her head dropped and then she looked up at the ceiling, smiled and sighed.  "Phoebe knew we had dinner here for you."   My friend may have been able to BUY the ingredients for supper,  but she didn't really have the time to MAKE dinner.  And here, this little sign, this little taking care of another mother, who had mothered her so many times, opened her home and heart to Phoebe so many times, in a very funny way was being given something she really needed on this very night.  And the way it happened would have made Phoebe smile and chuckle.  I know where she would stand and how she would move ...how she would fill that space.  She really is still filling it, just in a totally different way. 
These are little graces, big graces really, that assure us that those in Heaven are among us.  I'll rest on that tonight ...and say thank you!