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Sunday, September 22, 2019

Sunday Meditation: Making Memories


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A little pewter nativity set bought at Santa's Secret shop at St. Louis School in Alexandria
finds a permanent home in a shell collected during a beach vacation.
I love Sunday. It generally starts with getting ready and attending 8:00 a.m. Mass. We come home, make coffee, and set the table for brunch. Sometimes it's just our daughter and her family. More often there are other friends and family: my sister-in-law and, occasionally, my nephew, a friend and her young daughter who has become like an adopted grandchild and loves to play with my daughter's girls. Sometimes we get extra guests at the last minute. There is always room and plenty of food!

Two little grandsons get dropped off before 10:00 a.m. Mass to play with Grandma and Paka and spare the congregation their wild enthusiasm. Sometimes they help to prepare the feast.  This morning they played hide in the block cupboard and dare Grandma to find them. I would pretend not to know where they were then open the door with a holler and tickle them.

We had a full table this morning -- eleven in all. The menu included french toast, apple dump cake, bacon, sausage, chocolate chip muffins (the contribution of my friend's little girl who proudly announced she made them herself), applesauce with blueberries, scrambled eggs, and cheesy potatoes.

The conversation starter for the day was sharing a memory. What an assortment! One memory about accidentally putting salt in chocolate chip cookies morphed into all kinds of funny food stories: the pea soup that ended up on the ceiling, because my brother left the pressure gauge off the pressure cooker, the buttermilk flying everywhere when a butter-making experiment went wild, chili made in a pumpkin for Halloween, the pumpkin pie that almost got seasoned with garlic instead of ginger. Lots of smiling and laughing!

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Collecting frogs always precedes swimming, but who's that critter with the long tail and little head?
The children all went in the pool after brunch. The day was hot even if the pool was a chilly 78 degrees. We wondered whether this would be the last pool event for the season. Among the frogs fished out before the swim was a newt with a long tale. Is that the newt version of swimming with dolphins? I think when the kids got in, there were still four uncaught frogs paddling around. That is such a regular occurrence that I once wrote a poem called Frogs in the Pool.

After everyone went home, my husband and I finished "redding up," a West Virginia expression for getting things ready for the next time. Then we went into the living room which serves as our little "chapel" to pray our perpetual family novena, our rosary, and the Legion of Mary tessera.

As I sat on the sofa (which we've had for just about forever) I felt wrapped in memories. I nursed babies on that sofa and read countless books to little ones. It served as theater seating for family concerts, recitals, and impromptu "plays." How many photos I have of my husband napping on that sofa with a sleeping baby on his chest, first children and then grandchildren. On the back of the loveseat is a circle quilt my Aunt Dorothy crocheted. I have several and think of her when I admire them. At Christmas she often tucked a crocheted ornament in her card and a letter sharing a memory from the past. I loved her stories, especially when they involved her big brother, my dad. She was always smiling and laughing and I can almost hear her when I think of her.

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Challenge: Find all the items mentioned in the article. Most are in the picture.

So many memories of my mom fill that room. She loved my doll collection and many of my favorite "babies" were gifts from her. Over the fireplace mantle is a picture of two leopards she purchased at a school art auction when our children were attending St. Louis in Alexandria. They remind me of Noah taking the animals on the ark. On another wall is a silhouette of Mary and Jesus by Sr. Mary Jean Dorcy, OP.  I think Mom gave one to all my siblings. She was always doing things like that --bringing gifts made by the residents at the Little Sisters of the Poor on Maiden Choice Lane in Catonsville, MD where she volunteered twice a week into her 80s! I had a soup tureen that looked like a mushroom that went to my oldest when she admired it, and I have two watermelon bowls that are fun for parties. Mom commissioned a woman to make us all quilts. I treasure mine. Everywhere I look I see reminders of her.

Image may contain: 1 personMy mom lived with us the last five months of her life and died in that room which we had set up with a hospital bed. I sat at her bedside praying the rosary as she took her last breath. That room is sanctified by her holy death. I feel close to her when I sit and pray there and thank her for so many real, but intangible gifts she gave me (like cheerfulness), and I apologize for all my sins and ingratitude through the years.

Memories of my dad fill the room too. I have dolls he brought back from business trips and a wooden statue of Mary, protector of travelers, from Germany. Poor Mary has lost her praying hands, no doubt from being played with by younger siblings, but that's just a reminder for us to be her hands to a needy world.

And then there is the music on the piano including a large book of opera selections held together with packing tape. How often I sat on the piano bench and listened to Daddy play as I turned the pages for him. The son of a Church organist, Daddy was an incredible musician in his own right and used to play the organ at the Naval Academy in Annapolis when he was a midshipman.

Our five children are well represented in that room too, from their pictures on the wall to the many gifts they've given us. Among my dolls are a Spanish bride and groom our oldest brought me from Spain. She spent a semester in Valencia during college and taught at the University of Santiago for a school year after she received her Masters degree. I also have some beautiful and impressive postcards she sent, so different from those made in the USA.

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She's lost her "aloha" sign but not
her ability to remind me of Monica.
Our oldest son contributed a Russian icon from a business trip to that country and I have several others given to me by friends. One of my treasures is a little nativity set from Santa's Secret Shop at St. Louis School. When I look at it, I think of a little blondie who was so tickled when she gave it to us. I recently mounted it with some seashells gluing the tiny figures in place so they won't get lost. She also made us a darling nativity set made out of toilet paper rolls that will come out at Christmas.

The room brings back memories of so many family members and friends. One of my oldest dolls was a gift from a high school friend, Monica, when my dad got transferred and we moved to another state at the end of my junior year in high school. She was holding a banner saying "Aloha" that my friend made, but somewhere in my travels the banner got lost.

A silk flower arrangement on top of the doll cupboard always makes me laugh. It was a gift from my sister -- a second try in fact. She ordered me a sight-unseen artificial flower arrangement when I was recovering from cancer surgery in 1986 at Providence Hospital. It was so ugly I laughed and said, "Peggy never saw that." She's an artist and has impeccable taste. When I thanked her for the "unusual" arrangement, she suspected it wasn't quite what she intended, and asked to see it when she came to visit. If I recall correctly, she burst into tears because she was concerned about me and wanted her gift to be something special. But I said the laugh was good for my healing. She took the flowers back to her local florist where she placed the order. They replaced it with something beautiful. I still smile when I think of it and since I've never had a recurrence, I think what I said to her was true.

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All you saints and angels,
pray for us!
The glass coffee and side tables were a gift from my sister-in-law. She and her husband were selling a house in Florida and offered them to us during a visit. I love them! My father-in-law made the grandfather clock from a kit and we treasure that as well. He built one for all Larry's siblings, no small task when you come from a family of nine children! He was a talented man who loved building things.

But the real treasure in the room is a plaque of relics that belongs to my dear friend, Fr. James Haley. How I grieve over what happened to him. He is like a younger brother to me. He concelebrated at our 25th wedding anniversary and did the vow renewal. He baptized our oldest granddaughter. He gave us so much encouragement and friendship over the years. Upstairs in my bedroom I have a large statue of Mary and Jesus that belongs to him. Whenever I look at her I tell her she needs to go home and I ask her to watch over him.

So many memories of family and friends and all those who touch our lives for a minute, or a day, or a year, or a lifetime. I gather them all together when I go to Mass and when I say my rosary.

Thank you, Lord, for everyone who has ever touched my life in any way. Thank you for those who did me good and those who intended harm. Since you can bring good out of every bad situation, even an enemy can be a source for my growth and conversion. Bless them all, Lord, I hope to meet them all merrily in heaven.

3 comments:

  1. I'm teary-eyed and awed by this treasured room and your sweet words.

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  2. Thank you. I miss all those who are gone but feel like they are close when I look around that room. Sunday is a great day for family memories I think.

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  3. Mary Ann,

    God bless you and your husband for creating a hospitable place for family and friends to meet. Your family is blessed by this effort. My Mom had family dinners on Sunday nights that I remember now. I am very thankful for them. My In-laws were always invited too. What a blessing for me as a young mom.

    As a newly married Navy wife thirty-one years ago, we lived in Pittsburgh for a school that my husband had to attend. I worked in a medical hospital and that is the first time I heard the terms "red up", "yinz".

    God bless,
    Katie

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