All Souls' Day

Today, we remember those who died.  Today we remember all those we love whose faces, we can't see except in photos or our own memories.  I have two All Souls Day in my life.  One is November 2nd, when I try to make sure I say a rosary, and on each bead, recall someone I've lost, either physically through death, emotionally through distance, or spiritually for whatever reason and those I do and don't know, but for whom I should pray.   It's a good exercise, I recommend it to anyone as a way of both remembering we should be in the business of praying for our family, for our friends, for those not our friends, and for the souls we encounter or remember.

I used Come Pray the Rosary as a guide, and while I love the pictures of the holy land, I think they say it too quickly, and I need more time to get through a Hail Mary and be mindful.

Sign of the Cross: For the Pope.
Apostles's Creed: For those persecuted for the faith
Our Father:  My Dad
Hail Mary: For my Mom
Hail Mary: For my Mother-in-law
Hail Mary: For my Father-in-law

Glory Be: For my Husband
First Glorious Mystery
Our Father: For my siblings
Hail Mary: For their spouses
Hail Mary: For their children
Hail Mary: For Aunt Linda
Hail Mary: For Aunt Marylou
Hail Mary: For Uncle Pat
Hail Mary: For Uncle Tommy
Hail Mary: For Kate
Hail Mary: For Kylee
Hail Mary: For Uncle Bobby
Hail Mary: Jen P.

Glory Be: Gina R.
Fatima Prayer: For all the souls in Purgatory

Second Glorious Mystery
Our Father: Our Priests
Hail Mary: Dan N.
Hail Mary: Bridget S.
Hail Mary: Mother of a friend
Hail Mary: Father of a friend
Hail Mary: Aunt Tag
Hail Mary: Coco
Hail Mary: Grandmother Green
Hail Mary: Granddaddy Green
Hail Mary: Ben Hebert
Hail Mary: Bishop Ganter
Glory Be: Bonnie and Jimmie C
Fatima Prayer: For all the souls here.

Third Glorious Mystery
Our Father: Papal Intentions
Hail Mary: Those in politics.
Hail Mary: Those not in politics.
Hail Mary: My students.
Hail Mary: My colleagues.
Hail Mary: All those who work with my children, at all of their schools.
Hail Mary: All those I've hurt.
Hail Mary: All those I've ignored.
Hail Mary: All those I've angered.
Hail Mary: my writing group.
Hail Mary: My friends in the internet
Glory Be: Andrew and Patrick
Fatima Prayer:  John C

Fourth Glorious Mystery
Our Faither: For our nation
Hail Mary: For my friends
Hail Mary: For those not my friends.
Hail Mary: For those who are alone.
Hail Mary: For those who cannot pray.
Hail Mary: For those who are sick and dying.
Hail Mary: For those who care for the sick and dying.
Hail Mary: For those who care for the unborn.
Hail Mary: for the mothers
Hail Mary: for the fathers
Hail Mary: For the mentally ill.
Glory Be: For the physically sick.
Fatima Prayer: Russell M

Fifth Glorious Mystery
Our Father: For everyone.
Hail Mary: For Will
Hail Mary: For Bon
Hail Mary: For Marta
Hail Mary: For Peter
Hail Mary: For Faith
Hail Mary: For John
Hail Mary: For Rita
Hail Mary: For Regina
Hail Mary: For Paul
Hail Mary: For Anna
Glory Be: in Praise of the Trinity
Fatima Prayer: Jean and Bob R

Hail Holy Queen: For anyone who felt left out by this list.

Honestly, between the madness of any given day in the news and the election, I don't think there's a better thing we can do for this nation or everyone, than pray.   Pray for all hearts to be turned, all hearts to be conquered, all souls to be healed.

Made it Real

Damn.  I went and said it.

My uncle died July 12th.  Now I've written it and somehow it makes it more real.  It's never easy and I know the ache my cousins are holding.  It's sharp and dull at the same time.  It's real but it feels unreal.  It wasn't unexpected but it always is.

We will gather, pray, sing, eat, tell stories and laugh louder than perhaps we want, because we want to hold onto more than the humor, we want to steep in the memories we didn't know we collected over decades of time.

The only comfort I know in times of facing death, is the presence of others.  Each note on Facebook, each letter I received when my dad died, each condolence made the loss softer.  I remember everyone I saw at the Rosary.  I remember being overwhelmed by how many loved Dad, by how many came to the funeral.  I wish I'd had the mass videotaped so I could fully take in everyone who came.    They did more than they know.  It is such a sacred act, to comfort the mourning, to be present for those who grieve.   So to all who came then, thank you.

I hope Uncle Pat's funeral is brimming with people.

Brimming.  That's how I remember him; brimming with laughter, brimming with song, brimming with story, holding a beer that was also brimming with foam.  He brimmed with love for his children.  He brimmed with love for his whole family.  

I remember hearing the story about you and my dad and Uncle Tommy sharing a room.  Granddaddy apparently came up and declared the talking fest of your bedroom to be over. "I don't want to hear another peep out of this room!" he growled.   We all knew what happened next.  You said, "Peep!....Peep! Peep! Peep! Peep! Peep!" and your brothers followed suit.  It broke the tension, all the peeps cascading.

I also remember your eyes sparkling with delight as you handed Marc and me a bottle of Don Perignon at our rehearsal dinner.  We drank it at New Year's that first year.  I also have many memories of you at the beach, getting slightly annoyed with me for my umpteenth backlash.

The last time we got to visit, it was short.  I was at Aunt Mary Lou's funeral, and rode down with you in the elevator.  I wish I could remember the conversation.  I felt blunted then by your sister's death, so close upon my dad's.  I think you did too.   There weren't the funny stories because at that moment, we just both felt sad.  We both got extra desserts.  We both shouldn't have, but we both wanted life at that moment to somehow be sweeter, to taste better.

The photo for the obituary is how I remember Uncle Pat.  That's his true face.  Eyes laughing, easy smile, someone willing to sing or tell a story, whatever it took to help whoever was sitting with him, enjoy the moment.

Uncle Pat, I love you.

Your laughter, like salt, made whatever was happening in life, taste better.
It was never what you said that I remembered, but how I felt whenever I'd visited or watched you with other people. Your conversations were always, always, always punctuated by your laughter and that's what I remember the most, what I'll miss most.