Wordless Wednesday

Life

It all started when I scheduled Genevieve's Baptism.  

Her godmother-to-be mentioned a weekend that they'd be available, then a few days passed.  I looked at the calendar and saw that Blake and Owen were scheduled to serve a Saturday evening Mass that weekend, and a few more days passed.  I called Father Joe to find out if he'd be available that evening.  He would be, and he agreed to baptize our little sweetness following the Mass. 

 

 I hung up the phone, and went to write it on the calendar, and only then did I realize the significance of the date we had just scheduled.  It was only a week away, it was to be Genevieve's one-month "birthday", and it was the Feast of the Nativity of our Blessed Mother.  What an awesome day to be born into new life with Christ.

 

On Monday of that week before the Baptism, we learned that my grandma was not doing well.  My devoted mother began a vigil at her bedside, and by Thursday we knew the end was near.  Another call to Father Joe brought her the Anointing of the Sick, and we continued to watch her slip away.  By Friday, the doctor said it would be a matter of hours.  I began a silent prayer.  A prayer of my heart, that I wouldn't have shared with anyone but my heavenly parents.  The hours passed.  Early Saturday morning we got word that her life on earth had ended.  She had begun her new life on September 8th, the Blessed Mother's birthday.  My prayer had been answered.  My tears were happy, as her suffering had ended and I recognized that even in death our Almighty God is orchestrating a blessed symphony for us to live.

It was almost surreal, going through the familiar practices of Mass and Baptism that evening.  

 

The same hands that had anointed my grandma, brought new life to my first daughter through the Water and the Holy Spirit.  

 

There with us, through it all, was our Mother Mary.  As we rejoiced in the gift from God that she is, we knew that she was with my Abuela as well, welcoming her, as she began her new life.

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Because I Need to Move On

You know how it is, when you need to do something but aren't quite sure how to do it, and you avoid it a little, and forget about it a little, and push it to the back of the shelf, the corner of your mind, but it keeps popping up, and you keep knowing you need to take care of it, but the more time that goes by the less sure you are of how to approach it, only now you know you need to because you just can't live with it hanging over your head any longer?

I seem to be operating under those circumstances on a lot of things lately.  My plate is so full that I can actually only address about 1/8 of what's on it during any given day.  This drives the necessity of sticking to priorities.  Priorities become relative (as in, the amount of laundry that gets done is relative to what parts of the body actually must be covered, and how many days in a row a 6-year-old can wear the same shorts), and everything else gets pushed to the bottom of the list.

And that's where my blog has landed.  Except that I don't like it there.  And I don't want it to keep on being one of those things just hanging over my head.  This space is special to me, and the time I spend here is therapeutic, so I'm pushing it back up the list, as much as I can for now.

I'm not going to worry about "catching up" on what's passed.  I'll chronicle what I can, and hope that I'll do our family's story justice.

So with this post, my feet are officially wet.  Consider me a blogger once again.