I have never been afraid of the dark. I've felt that it offers me a protective covering, a kind of warm fleece snuggie. And I have always been in love with stars, and they just don't happen without dark. I find this time of year interesting. As we march to the shortest day of the year, it always brings out the hope and the anticipation of that first Christmas night.
I'm always ready for the season of Advent. It slows me down, it allows me to get ready. Not for the crazy holiday push to acquire, but for the fullfillment of a longing, a yearning for the union of Emmanual with us, and the knowledge that since He came and lived among us, we have the tools to continue the journey.
This year, the coming of the Babe has an even deeper meaning as we wait for another babe to be born. This one will arrive in March, also with great anticipation. As we prepare for the birth of both babies, I can't help but marvel at the goodness of God. He showered the night with stars to announce the arrival of His gift to us. And He has filled the night with stars since then to remind us that great gift continues down through time and appears continually in all births.
I welcome short days and long nights. The time for Jesus and hope and renewal is here. Then it's on to March! And the mystery of a new birth that will allow me to be GRAMMA for the first time! Merry Christmas!
Pax Tecum
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Thursday, April 22, 2010
HAITI
This blog is about my journey to Haiti. It's going to be a glimpse of an experience that touched my life like almost no other has. So let us begin....
Some time ago I had picked Haiti as the place I would like to visit. Perhaps because it is the poorest country in our hemisphere and I wanted to get up close to poverty, to look it in the face and to feel its reality. After the earthquake on Jan.12th, I kept waiting for an opportunity, and one came knocking on my own back-door. My own parish church's response to the earthquake was a relief effort called the Wyoming Haiti Relief. It would coordinate medical teams to travel to Haiti to assist in the recovery. It was a no brainer, I was in the right place at the right time. No excuses. I volunteered. It took awhile. I couldn't go right away and when I was ready, the team wasn't formed. But I finally made it as a member of Team 5 which would include 3 men, working on affordable housing, and 2 nurses.
Our location was Matthew 25 House in Port-au-Prince. Before the earthquake it was a hospitality house for travelers coming in and going out of Haiti. It currently houses relief workers from all over the world who are in transit to all parts of Haiti. Our team was assigned to work at Matthew 25's adjacent tent city of 1800 Haitians living on three acres. The director of Matthew 25 is Sister Mary Finnick, a long time resident of Haiti.
Our first day in Haiti was Thurs., March 25th, day 62 after the eaethquake. It was hot, humid, third world, destroyed, and utterly chaotic. Sister Mary met us at the airport, holding a sign that said "Wyoming". She put us into her SUV and attacked the dirt streets of Port-au-Prince. No street lights, no right of ways, just sheer guts. And she seemed to be the guttsiest. I think the Holy Spirit was sitting on top of the SUV, holding on for dear life! That was my introduction to my two week stay in Haiti.
It was personally challenging for me. Living and sleeping in a tent for 14 days, working in an outdoor clinic all day, everyday, with temps in the 90's and humidity in the 60's and 70's put this old girl through the wringer. I sweat constantly, lost my appetite, lost 15 pounds, and desperately missed the winds of the High Plains!
I spent Holy Week with a new appreciation for bodily suffering. Some days I wondered if I would make it.
But there was another side of it. That side was EASTER. It was exhilarating! I met people from all over the world, coming to Haiti to help. They worked hard, long days trying to make life better for the Haitian people. I was amazed at the volunteers who had been there several times, and came back and came back again.
But most of all, the Haitian people were a revelation. They had nothing. No running water, little food, living in small crowded tents inches from each other. I never saw a child with a toy. But their attitude and spirit were buoyant and joyous and ever hopeful. It was a true pleasure to be among them. My friend, Pat, the other nurse and I would marvel at how the Haitians always looked clean with clean clothes. We looked the exact opposite. We couldn't figure it out.
I attended the Easter Vigil Mass with Sister Mary. The Church had been damaged, so it was held outside. We had to carry our chairs to sit. There was no electricity so we held candles for light. We had no music but sang without it. The priest gave his homily in French, but at one point looked at the relief workers and said in English, "You are here. This is your destiny. This is the Resurrection." And I did indeed understand what he meant.
I learned that poverty does not mean misery. Poverty makes the way easier to the true meaning of life. Simple joy, family, hope. It's indeed a different reality, maybe a great gift, that we can glimpse at special moments in our lives.
Haiti's gift to me was a feeling of solidarity with them. I will value that for the rest of my life.
PAX TECUM
Some time ago I had picked Haiti as the place I would like to visit. Perhaps because it is the poorest country in our hemisphere and I wanted to get up close to poverty, to look it in the face and to feel its reality. After the earthquake on Jan.12th, I kept waiting for an opportunity, and one came knocking on my own back-door. My own parish church's response to the earthquake was a relief effort called the Wyoming Haiti Relief. It would coordinate medical teams to travel to Haiti to assist in the recovery. It was a no brainer, I was in the right place at the right time. No excuses. I volunteered. It took awhile. I couldn't go right away and when I was ready, the team wasn't formed. But I finally made it as a member of Team 5 which would include 3 men, working on affordable housing, and 2 nurses.
Our location was Matthew 25 House in Port-au-Prince. Before the earthquake it was a hospitality house for travelers coming in and going out of Haiti. It currently houses relief workers from all over the world who are in transit to all parts of Haiti. Our team was assigned to work at Matthew 25's adjacent tent city of 1800 Haitians living on three acres. The director of Matthew 25 is Sister Mary Finnick, a long time resident of Haiti.
Our first day in Haiti was Thurs., March 25th, day 62 after the eaethquake. It was hot, humid, third world, destroyed, and utterly chaotic. Sister Mary met us at the airport, holding a sign that said "Wyoming". She put us into her SUV and attacked the dirt streets of Port-au-Prince. No street lights, no right of ways, just sheer guts. And she seemed to be the guttsiest. I think the Holy Spirit was sitting on top of the SUV, holding on for dear life! That was my introduction to my two week stay in Haiti.
It was personally challenging for me. Living and sleeping in a tent for 14 days, working in an outdoor clinic all day, everyday, with temps in the 90's and humidity in the 60's and 70's put this old girl through the wringer. I sweat constantly, lost my appetite, lost 15 pounds, and desperately missed the winds of the High Plains!
I spent Holy Week with a new appreciation for bodily suffering. Some days I wondered if I would make it.
But there was another side of it. That side was EASTER. It was exhilarating! I met people from all over the world, coming to Haiti to help. They worked hard, long days trying to make life better for the Haitian people. I was amazed at the volunteers who had been there several times, and came back and came back again.
But most of all, the Haitian people were a revelation. They had nothing. No running water, little food, living in small crowded tents inches from each other. I never saw a child with a toy. But their attitude and spirit were buoyant and joyous and ever hopeful. It was a true pleasure to be among them. My friend, Pat, the other nurse and I would marvel at how the Haitians always looked clean with clean clothes. We looked the exact opposite. We couldn't figure it out.
I attended the Easter Vigil Mass with Sister Mary. The Church had been damaged, so it was held outside. We had to carry our chairs to sit. There was no electricity so we held candles for light. We had no music but sang without it. The priest gave his homily in French, but at one point looked at the relief workers and said in English, "You are here. This is your destiny. This is the Resurrection." And I did indeed understand what he meant.
I learned that poverty does not mean misery. Poverty makes the way easier to the true meaning of life. Simple joy, family, hope. It's indeed a different reality, maybe a great gift, that we can glimpse at special moments in our lives.
Haiti's gift to me was a feeling of solidarity with them. I will value that for the rest of my life.
PAX TECUM
Monday, December 21, 2009
30 YEARS AGO TONIGHT
I can remember it like it was yesterday. I was wrapping Christmas presents in the family room downstairs in my home. The gift was a golf practice game for my husband. That's when the telephone call came that was to change my family's life forever. My Dad was in the emergency room at the hospital. Get there as soon as you can. My Dad? He's at a Christmas party with his co-workers. Mom went with him. And that's the last normal thing I knew. It wasn't the same after that.
Dad had collapsed while dancing a waltz at that Christmas party. He had finished a dance with Mom and one of the other women asked him to dance. I always liked to watch him dance. He was so graceful, and he loved to dance.
Dad had a massive heart attack and died that Christmas party night on the Winter Solstice, Dec.21,1979. I was 37 years old with a husband and three little girls. I needed my Dad and wasn't ready for him to fly off into the night, leaving us all bewildered below.
As I left the ER that night, on my way home to a new reality, I remember looking up at the stars and thinking of Shakespeare's Romero saying "And, when he shall die, take him and cut him out in little stars. He will make the face of heaven so fair that all the world will fall in love with night and pay no heed to the garish sun."
Thr lessons I learned from him were many.He was always there for us.He worked harder then a man should have to work. He was proud, he loved Wyoming,and had the best sense of humor. He was comfortable around people and could shoot the shit with the best of them. One day I stopped to have lunch with Mom and Dad. I was stressed out over a job I had as a nurse. There was no job description and I had to develop it as I went. It was a big chance and a big challenge and needed constant interpretation to everyone. I was sick and tired of it and wanted to quit. As I talked to my parents about it, Dad said I should quit. He questioned the reasons the job was given to me, didn't they know it would be too hard? On the way back to work, I got mad. They were not going to beat me, I would show them I would do just fine, and I would do what I knew deep down I could do. Dad's reverse psychology really worked on me that day!
We just didn't have him long enough. There's lots I would like to talk to him about and tell him. I do that now, but his twinkling blue eyes are not looking at me, and his crazy faces are only a memory. I know life is a journey to death. He made his journey a legacy for us. I pray I can do half the job for my children that he did for us.
Good-night, Herm. Sleep well. Tomorrow is another dancing day, and you and Mom have the universe to waltz through. Don't stumble on the stars.
Pax Tecum
Dad had collapsed while dancing a waltz at that Christmas party. He had finished a dance with Mom and one of the other women asked him to dance. I always liked to watch him dance. He was so graceful, and he loved to dance.
Dad had a massive heart attack and died that Christmas party night on the Winter Solstice, Dec.21,1979. I was 37 years old with a husband and three little girls. I needed my Dad and wasn't ready for him to fly off into the night, leaving us all bewildered below.
As I left the ER that night, on my way home to a new reality, I remember looking up at the stars and thinking of Shakespeare's Romero saying "And, when he shall die, take him and cut him out in little stars. He will make the face of heaven so fair that all the world will fall in love with night and pay no heed to the garish sun."
Thr lessons I learned from him were many.He was always there for us.He worked harder then a man should have to work. He was proud, he loved Wyoming,and had the best sense of humor. He was comfortable around people and could shoot the shit with the best of them. One day I stopped to have lunch with Mom and Dad. I was stressed out over a job I had as a nurse. There was no job description and I had to develop it as I went. It was a big chance and a big challenge and needed constant interpretation to everyone. I was sick and tired of it and wanted to quit. As I talked to my parents about it, Dad said I should quit. He questioned the reasons the job was given to me, didn't they know it would be too hard? On the way back to work, I got mad. They were not going to beat me, I would show them I would do just fine, and I would do what I knew deep down I could do. Dad's reverse psychology really worked on me that day!
We just didn't have him long enough. There's lots I would like to talk to him about and tell him. I do that now, but his twinkling blue eyes are not looking at me, and his crazy faces are only a memory. I know life is a journey to death. He made his journey a legacy for us. I pray I can do half the job for my children that he did for us.
Good-night, Herm. Sleep well. Tomorrow is another dancing day, and you and Mom have the universe to waltz through. Don't stumble on the stars.
Pax Tecum
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
ILLUSIONS, PART 2
There are 450 Minutemen III missles deployed in the United States. That breaks down to 49 in Colorado, 82 in Nebraska and 19 in Wyoming all controlled from Warren AFB in Cheyenne.
There are 150 in North Dakota controlled from Minot AFB, ND. Finally there are 150 in Montana controlled from Malmstrom AFB in Great Falls
Each missle has one nuclear bomb on board. The size of the bomb is estimated to be between 12 and 18 times the size of the Hiroshima bomb. They are on constant alert with bomb crews deployed in groups, which are assigned 10 bomb sites per launch control center.
Vigil at Nuclear Silo N8, August 15, 2009. The directions from Cheyenne: Go south on route 85 to Ault. Take route 14 east for about 35 miles to road 113, you can see the silo from the road.
East of I-25 in Colorado, it looks alot like Nebraska, rolling farm land with miles of corn and cows. The sky is very blue.
We, who are gathered here, pray today with all the world citizens that peace may be in every heart, in every home, in every nation.
I didn't think it would have the impact it did. A steel lid on a concrete pad with a fence around it, looked on by a camera and a satellite dish in the middle of Colorado farm country. Every bit as powerful as 20,000 people at the gates of Fort Benning. Why? It was the stillness that caught my attention. The air, the site, and very nearly my heart....all still. It was all over me. Comprehension of chaos evoked a sense of stillness to the extent I almost didn't breathe.
What was that? If you get the chance, visit a Silo up close. Chances are your reaction will be similar. The stillness is deafening.
Pax Tecum
There are 150 in North Dakota controlled from Minot AFB, ND. Finally there are 150 in Montana controlled from Malmstrom AFB in Great Falls
Each missle has one nuclear bomb on board. The size of the bomb is estimated to be between 12 and 18 times the size of the Hiroshima bomb. They are on constant alert with bomb crews deployed in groups, which are assigned 10 bomb sites per launch control center.
Vigil at Nuclear Silo N8, August 15, 2009. The directions from Cheyenne: Go south on route 85 to Ault. Take route 14 east for about 35 miles to road 113, you can see the silo from the road.
East of I-25 in Colorado, it looks alot like Nebraska, rolling farm land with miles of corn and cows. The sky is very blue.
We, who are gathered here, pray today with all the world citizens that peace may be in every heart, in every home, in every nation.
I didn't think it would have the impact it did. A steel lid on a concrete pad with a fence around it, looked on by a camera and a satellite dish in the middle of Colorado farm country. Every bit as powerful as 20,000 people at the gates of Fort Benning. Why? It was the stillness that caught my attention. The air, the site, and very nearly my heart....all still. It was all over me. Comprehension of chaos evoked a sense of stillness to the extent I almost didn't breathe.
What was that? If you get the chance, visit a Silo up close. Chances are your reaction will be similar. The stillness is deafening.
Pax Tecum
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
ILLUSIONS, PART 1
The dog days of summer. August is here. The road trip from Wyoming to New Mexico was relaxing and scenic and summer. The horizons smiled at us. Santa Fe was bustling and vibrant and fun. Lots of people and history and art.
We were on our way to Los Alamos, which has a history unto itself. Our focus was the Los Alamos National Laboratory. It has 13,000 employees and a yearly budget of 2.2 billion dollars. It's main purpose has always been the classified work for the design of nuclear weapons.
We, along with other Pax Christi members traveled from many states and countries to participate at a vigil to remember what happened from there 64 years ago. As we walked in silent, reflective, non-violent procession to be witnesses to that event, I thought it ironic we crossed a street called Oppenheimer Drive, named for J. Robert Oppenheimer, the first director of that famous Manhattan Project.
Los Alamos is high country, over 7,000 feet. It has breath-taking mountain scenery. Its canyons and mesas cry out beauty and peace. It is one of the wealthiest communities in the United States. Hundreds of PHD's do not come cheap. As I sat among others at the lab site, in silent prayer and reflection, my mind reached back and pulled 64 years ago close.
"The bomb exploded with a blinding flash in the sky...a great rush of air...a loud rumble of noise...a great cloud of dust and smoke...a pall of darkness...fires sprang up...an immense fire store...." (from the U.S. Gov't report on Hiroshima)
Monday, August 6, 1945....Hiroshima, Japan
Thursday, August 9, 1945...Nagasaki, Japan
These are, to date, the only attacks with nuclear weapons in the history of warfare.
The victims: Two cities in Japan
The perpetrators: The United States of America
Killed: 140,000 people in Hiroshima
80,000 people in Nagasaki
One half of these deaths occurred on the days of the bombings. 15-20% died from injuries of the combined effects of flash burns, trauma, and radiation burns, compounded by illness, malnutrition, and radiation sickness. Since then more have died from leukemia and cancers attributed to exposure to radiation released by the bombs.
MOST OF THE DEAD WERE CIVILIANS.
THE RESIDENTS OF HIROSHIMA WERE GIVEN NO NOTICE OF THE ATOMIC BOMB.
Beautiful Los Alamos. Why am I crying??
Pax Tecum
We were on our way to Los Alamos, which has a history unto itself. Our focus was the Los Alamos National Laboratory. It has 13,000 employees and a yearly budget of 2.2 billion dollars. It's main purpose has always been the classified work for the design of nuclear weapons.
We, along with other Pax Christi members traveled from many states and countries to participate at a vigil to remember what happened from there 64 years ago. As we walked in silent, reflective, non-violent procession to be witnesses to that event, I thought it ironic we crossed a street called Oppenheimer Drive, named for J. Robert Oppenheimer, the first director of that famous Manhattan Project.
Los Alamos is high country, over 7,000 feet. It has breath-taking mountain scenery. Its canyons and mesas cry out beauty and peace. It is one of the wealthiest communities in the United States. Hundreds of PHD's do not come cheap. As I sat among others at the lab site, in silent prayer and reflection, my mind reached back and pulled 64 years ago close.
"The bomb exploded with a blinding flash in the sky...a great rush of air...a loud rumble of noise...a great cloud of dust and smoke...a pall of darkness...fires sprang up...an immense fire store...." (from the U.S. Gov't report on Hiroshima)
Monday, August 6, 1945....Hiroshima, Japan
Thursday, August 9, 1945...Nagasaki, Japan
These are, to date, the only attacks with nuclear weapons in the history of warfare.
The victims: Two cities in Japan
The perpetrators: The United States of America
Killed: 140,000 people in Hiroshima
80,000 people in Nagasaki
One half of these deaths occurred on the days of the bombings. 15-20% died from injuries of the combined effects of flash burns, trauma, and radiation burns, compounded by illness, malnutrition, and radiation sickness. Since then more have died from leukemia and cancers attributed to exposure to radiation released by the bombs.
MOST OF THE DEAD WERE CIVILIANS.
THE RESIDENTS OF HIROSHIMA WERE GIVEN NO NOTICE OF THE ATOMIC BOMB.
Beautiful Los Alamos. Why am I crying??
Pax Tecum
Thursday, August 6, 2009
MY THIRD CHAPTER
I just completed reading a remarkable book entitled "The Third Chapter...Passion, Risk, and Adventure in the 25 Years After 50" by Sara Lawrence-Lightfoot. She writes that the third chapter is a stage of life when the traditional norms, rules, and rituals of our careers seem less restrictive; a time to embrace new challenges and to search for a greater meaning in our lives.
This book spoke to me. Since my retirement 2 years ago I have been on a new path, that I haven't been able to articulate clearly, to myself or to others. For over 30 years I worked diligently in the public health sector being an advocate for people who had no power.
Along the way I was fortunate to be in the arena with some large social justice issues. I worked with the farm-workers in Central California, with immigrants fighting tuberculosis in Texas, and elderly people in Wyoming who had to choose between buying food and medications. I did what I could, along with working long hours and raising a family.
My life changed dramatically and quickly when I retired. All of a sudden I had the time and the passion to devote to direct action activities so near and dear my heart. With the support from my terrific family, I entered into justice issues, I had never had the time to explore before.
And I jumped in with both feet, energized by a passion too long ignored in a journey that led to this time in my life. I am no longer afraid of speaking out, or of standing up, or of questioning the powers that be. My place is to be in that march to make the world more just, more peaceful and more loving. There is a voice to my heart and it speaks louder every day.
And so I am arrested and imprisoned for my beliefs. What a gift that was! And I continue on. Know that in my writings I am talking to myself as much as I am talking to you. I wll write more of my journey, most recently a trip to New Mexico in recognition of the anniversary of the atomic attack on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. With joy I invite you to travel with me, but wear good shoes and carry some water. The trail can get bumpy and hot!
Pax Tecum
This book spoke to me. Since my retirement 2 years ago I have been on a new path, that I haven't been able to articulate clearly, to myself or to others. For over 30 years I worked diligently in the public health sector being an advocate for people who had no power.
Along the way I was fortunate to be in the arena with some large social justice issues. I worked with the farm-workers in Central California, with immigrants fighting tuberculosis in Texas, and elderly people in Wyoming who had to choose between buying food and medications. I did what I could, along with working long hours and raising a family.
My life changed dramatically and quickly when I retired. All of a sudden I had the time and the passion to devote to direct action activities so near and dear my heart. With the support from my terrific family, I entered into justice issues, I had never had the time to explore before.
And I jumped in with both feet, energized by a passion too long ignored in a journey that led to this time in my life. I am no longer afraid of speaking out, or of standing up, or of questioning the powers that be. My place is to be in that march to make the world more just, more peaceful and more loving. There is a voice to my heart and it speaks louder every day.
And so I am arrested and imprisoned for my beliefs. What a gift that was! And I continue on. Know that in my writings I am talking to myself as much as I am talking to you. I wll write more of my journey, most recently a trip to New Mexico in recognition of the anniversary of the atomic attack on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. With joy I invite you to travel with me, but wear good shoes and carry some water. The trail can get bumpy and hot!
Pax Tecum
Monday, May 18, 2009
MOM'S MOJO
One year ago, on May 13th, Mom died. The year went quickly, as I knew it would, bringing us back to that pivotal day, that the world we had known with Mom in it, ended.
I knew in my heart that remembering her especially on that day would not be enough, so I branded the week that was, Mom's Mojo week. I wanted to honor the things that were important to her, and fun for her. And it turned out that her spirit was indeed along for the ride!
It started with Mother's Day on May 10th. I went to Mass and prayed, along with everyone else for my Mom and Moms everywhere. The impact they make on the lives of their children is priceless.
Then on to Tuesday. My sister, Judy and I, with the help of Jolyn (another sister) gathered up flowers and plants and made the trip to Buffalo. It's about two hours north of Casper. We visited her and Dad's grave-sites, and many other relatives resting in the Willow Grove Cemetery. We spent time walking in that beautiful, peaceful place among the trees and listened to the breeze as we looked to the Big Horn Mountains. It is a friendly place, and very familiar. The spirits of the history of our loved ones reside there, and they were happy we came. From there we visited relatives in the area, people who share our history and that we see all to seldom. Our bond of family lives in us all. From there we visited sites remembered in a long ago childhood, the library, now a museum, but still smelling of books read and listened to long ago. And our elementary school, where we began our journey to the outside world. It was a day treasured.
Wednesday was difficult. I worked in the afternoon but was distracted. I kept remembering the Feast of Our lady of Fatima a year ago, and how I had prayed for Mary to take Mom home on that day. It pained me to know she honored that wish.
Thursday, the early morning Mass was said for Mom. It was said in Mom's favorite Church, where she had attended most of her life, and the Church where her funeral Mass was conducted. And so we came full circle.
Friday came and it was time for fun. She loved to travel to Deadwood to gamble at the slots. Tom, Judy, and I went to Deadwood for the week-end and walked to all the places Mom had so much fun going to. It was a fun trip, and as we listened to the bells and the whistles and saw the lights flashing and heard the excited banter, I felt Mom's presence and heard her laugh and saw the twinkle in her eye. We did indeed inhale her mojo, and we all won little bits of money, and even found money on the floor, not one of us but all of us! How do you explain that?
And so that was the week that was. Gone but still here,never to be forgotten, loved forever, in my heart always!
Pax Tecum
I knew in my heart that remembering her especially on that day would not be enough, so I branded the week that was, Mom's Mojo week. I wanted to honor the things that were important to her, and fun for her. And it turned out that her spirit was indeed along for the ride!
It started with Mother's Day on May 10th. I went to Mass and prayed, along with everyone else for my Mom and Moms everywhere. The impact they make on the lives of their children is priceless.
Then on to Tuesday. My sister, Judy and I, with the help of Jolyn (another sister) gathered up flowers and plants and made the trip to Buffalo. It's about two hours north of Casper. We visited her and Dad's grave-sites, and many other relatives resting in the Willow Grove Cemetery. We spent time walking in that beautiful, peaceful place among the trees and listened to the breeze as we looked to the Big Horn Mountains. It is a friendly place, and very familiar. The spirits of the history of our loved ones reside there, and they were happy we came. From there we visited relatives in the area, people who share our history and that we see all to seldom. Our bond of family lives in us all. From there we visited sites remembered in a long ago childhood, the library, now a museum, but still smelling of books read and listened to long ago. And our elementary school, where we began our journey to the outside world. It was a day treasured.
Wednesday was difficult. I worked in the afternoon but was distracted. I kept remembering the Feast of Our lady of Fatima a year ago, and how I had prayed for Mary to take Mom home on that day. It pained me to know she honored that wish.
Thursday, the early morning Mass was said for Mom. It was said in Mom's favorite Church, where she had attended most of her life, and the Church where her funeral Mass was conducted. And so we came full circle.
Friday came and it was time for fun. She loved to travel to Deadwood to gamble at the slots. Tom, Judy, and I went to Deadwood for the week-end and walked to all the places Mom had so much fun going to. It was a fun trip, and as we listened to the bells and the whistles and saw the lights flashing and heard the excited banter, I felt Mom's presence and heard her laugh and saw the twinkle in her eye. We did indeed inhale her mojo, and we all won little bits of money, and even found money on the floor, not one of us but all of us! How do you explain that?
And so that was the week that was. Gone but still here,never to be forgotten, loved forever, in my heart always!
Pax Tecum
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