All That I Have Written Is Straw. . .

Meanderings of a Catholic Devout

Passing Quietly in the Night

with 2 comments

I heard the news this weekend that a dear soul passed away.  I hadn’t spoken with her in several years (over a decade), but she was the sweetest woman I had ever met thus far and very motherly to me when I lived abroad.

I prayed a couple of rosaries in her honor and a Divine Mercy chaplet.  According to her daughter, she was very faithful and she did not suffer.  There is such an idea of mercy in that thought.

Peita of Michelangelo

Pieta of Michelangelo

This past week had much to do with mothers.  I had a rare dream a few nights ago about my own mother, who passed away in 1987 when I was only eight years old.  I don’t really recall much about her and the memories I have of her aren’t as vivid or filled with motherly closeness as those of my siblings.  In my dream, my mother came to pay me a visit, just to chat.  And strangely enough, it’s as if I were expecting her.  (In the past, I would dream she was still alive and in my dream, I would be very angry with her for letting me believe she was dead all these years.  Yes, there is a lot of psychoanalysis to be done on that, I’m sure.)  She was like a neighbor coming over just to catch up on gossip.  I cannot recall exactly what we chatted about, but I just distinctly remember that dream.

When my maternal grandmother passed away in 2003, I had many dreams in which I was conversing with her shortly after her death.  Prior to this, I hadn’t been particularly close with the woman (especially not after my mother’s death), so it was very strange to dream about her.  I get this feeling like I was making peace with her in a post-mortem way.  Occasionally, I still have conversations with her.  Moreso than I dream of my own mother.

Some people say to me that they can’t imagine life without having a mother.  For me, it’s very difficult to imagine having one around.  Over the years, it was always extremely difficult for me to attach to mother-figures, particularly of boyfriends (including the ex-husband’s mother).  It always seems for one reason or another, they never stick around in my life.  They are always the last relationship I try to foster. 

When I was finding my faith, though, the idea of Mary stuck like glue.  She was one great Mother who I knew would never let me out of her oversight.  She remains constantly in my life no matter the trial or circumstance.  Through her, it was much easier to love and appreciate her son.  In my conversion, she was the first relationship I sought, mostly due to my own skepticism.  I still am quite devoted to her and truly believe that her intercession for us with her Son is unmatched in grace and effectiveness.  (How could a Son resist the wishes of his beloved Mother?)

Since this weekend’s gospel recalled the Good Shepherd and the Prodigal Son parables, forgiveness is key.  At the points of my life in which I find forgiving myself is the hardest point to overcome, I reflect on Mary’s motherly love.  And I think of how a mother forgives her children despite their wrongdoing, no matter what the crime (fathers, too!).  Forgiving myself, or rather, understanding that I am worthy of forgiveness, comes much more easily thereafter.

So I am quite certain that a wonderful mother, who passed quietly away thousands of miles away, will still bring comfort and guidance to her children, even long after she is gone. 

May the Divine Assistance remain always with us.  And may the souls of the faithful departed, especially Madame C—, rest in peace.  Amen.


Written by Written Straw

September 12, 2010 at 4:59 pm

Posted in Catholic, Faith, Life

Tagged with , , , ,

2 Responses

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  1. Thank you, E. Thank you.


    September 13, 2010 at 9:30 pm

    • M–

      Of course, you and your family are in my prayers as well. If there’s anything I can offer, just let me know.

      Written Straw

      September 14, 2010 at 7:05 pm

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