Being Blessed

Not sure what I want the college lawyer and his colleagues to know — they are a constant presence on this road, my everyday readers.  (Hi Vin!)

In the quiet time on the blog, I have been super busy other ways.  About every other day, concerned that my life cannot only be about me, I see what I can do to help someone else. Examples?  There was a persistent racial incident at a local store, and a store manager (Puerto Rican) who I knew could listen.   I talked to him.   I have a dear friend who had something go wrong and it was a mistake causing his problems, so I suggested how to get at the root.    Next door to me, a neighbor was in foreclosure, and her house is being cleared out and she was hospitalized through almost all this time.   So I went next door and found all the phone numbers on the windows that contractors and Fannie Mae leave on windows and I called.   They stopped.  They will wait for this lady to get her things.  (She does not want the house, just a few things in the house.)   Whenever I feel my life is too much about me, I do a check and make sure I do something that helps someone else.   It grounds me.  It changes my focus…

And me?  Among all the details about selling property and buying a house in Worcester (my plans)….., I stopped into places nearby to check in, visited and remembered.   So, there I am in a cemetery in Watervliet, NY at the graves of my Irish people in the anniversary week Grandma Kate died and Aunt Spunky died.  Grandpa is there too, and a whole bunch of people related to me for centuries.

And I could not find them!  I remembered you always see other graves that sound like ours, and you see them more prominently.   But we are plaques on the ground, the kind you can walk over and get completely buried in snow and probably have grass over them.   I couldn’t find them, and I stopped trying after calling my sister for better directions.   They’ll be here next time, I said.

So I’m there, with my dogs in the car in the shade after a long walk, and I sit on a grassy hill by myself and I call my friend Maureen, a Holy Cross alum two years ahead of me.  I called Maureen from St. Agnes cemetery….   I had not talked to her in years.    It was like all was present and just continuing on….  Maureen!!!  I  told her all about the past and current Jesuit crap and the retaliation from Philip Boroughs, SJ, the only Holy Cross Jesuit who retaliates.  I told her about the cemetery….  And she shared her experiences, a brother with a sudden diagnosis of a certain death from an incurable illness, and her best friend, a Jesuit priest, being screwed over at Boston College by the rector of the Jesuit community.

Without having to say it, being with Maureen on the grassy hill at the cemetery, I knew I had many gifts from Holy Cross.    I know those blessings are wide and deep and interconnected with many people I know and people I didn’t meet yet….   It will be good to be in Worcester and start my life there after three years of traveling…..

 

 

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