She told me he got 5 O'clock shadow. My dark, handsome father. Video tapes of home movie reels and black and white photographs. These are the bits and pieces I hold onto. They fill my head and try to become my memories.

But once in a while, I flash on a true memory--being held up high in the air, jet back hair, loving blue eyes holding my gaze, watching this tall man walk. These moments are most precious for me for it is then that I feel my dad. He's no longer just a nice, good-looking man but he's a real flesh and blood person who loved, nurtured, and treasured me. He's mine. Even though he was part of my human experience for less than a year, in these memories I suddenly have a dad.

Now I think of my heavenly Father and how I can feel his love for me through the Eucharist, meditation upon the cross, or the love of other people. Those who met Christ in the flesh must've been touched beyond words. No wonder they put him to death--he must've scared the pants off of some of his contemporaries. To worship your heavenly Father and then to glimpse him here on earth--how tantalizing and awesome that must've been. But if you felt unworthy or sinful, you could not accept this. Which is why when Jesus rose from the dead, he greeted his disciples by saying, "Peace be with you" and "Whose sins you forgive are forgiven them..." He was talking about forgiving ourselves as well as others. If we don't forgive ourselves, we can't let go of the hurt we have felt from others. If we hold onto those sins, they are retained. God already forgives us, but we must forgive. Otherwise, we can't accept Christ and the Kingdom.

He had brown hair, a beard and gentle eyes. He performed many great works -- but will those bits and pieces be all we know of Christ? Or will we let ourselves be touched by his forgiveness and love? Will we let ourselves truly experience God's presence TODAY in our lives? All it takes is a little willingness--willingness to be open. He knew us before we were born and we knew Him. We belong to Him and He is ours.

Ashamed to be Catholic?

I was on a plan about a month ago, chatting with an elderly couple from my hometown when they mentioned a familiar church. I commented, "I'm Catholic, too."

"It's okay," the woman responded to me in a placating tone.

I was dumbfounded. Later I realized I'd wanted to tell her that I wasn't apologizing for my religion. I was proud to be Catholic.

I notice when others seem to be ashamed of being Catholic or try to make excuses for it. Why?

Here are some reasons to be proud to be Catholic:

We are the religion fonded by St. Peter over 2000 years ago.

We partake in seven sacraments which are not only signs of faith, but intimate contact with God. For example, in the Eucharist, we eat and drink the body and blood of Christ. In Confirmation we receive the Holy Spirit through being anointed with oil. In Penance, we are touched by the priest acting as Christ and hear the words that we are absolved from our sins.

We participate in the divine reality of heaven in the Mass. We are actually joined with the saints and angels in the present moment, giving glory to God and experiencing the divine mystery of being part of the body of Christ.

Catholic churches house the body of Christ in the tabernacle, making these places of worship holier than the ancient temple was to the Jews.

We Catholics have awesome symbols and tools of meditation such as the crucifix and the rosary.

Our rich traditions during Lent and Christmas deepen our faith.

We honor Mary as the Mother of God and she intercedes for us to Christ when we pray to her. She has granted countless miracles.

Catholicism has doctrine and beliefs that are not compromised for the flavor of the day or because it is easier to change.

Why should I be ashamed to be Catholic? I am not.

I am not ashamed that Catholics aren't perfect and that we make mistakes. But as a Catholic, I admit when I am wrong and make amends as the Church itself has done through the centuries.

I am not ashamed that we have made superficial changes because those modifications have not strayed from the Catechism. The Vatican II changes were actually a renewal of the earliest Catholic traditions and have added to the richness of the Mass.

There is so much to learn about our faith and the more I learn, the more I have to learn and the more that all of life makes sense. It's all there in the Catechism and teachings of the Catholic Church--how to live a full, satisfying, joyful and meaningful life. Catholic.org is a good place to find out more.

Happiness

Happiness isn't the absence of worries and strife, but the ability to smile at life.

Happiness is the capacity to perservere in all that happens, knowing God is near.

Happiness is facing fear, sorrow, tragedy and uniting it to Christ's suffering.

It's not about vacations and lack of stress, but about God's will and acceptance.

Happiness is knowing even in the midst of pain and rain that tomorrow the sun will shine again.

Food Obsession

Food obsession go away,
Counting calories, fat each day.
Tired of restrictions and rationalizations?
Want freedom, health and celebrations?
It's not gluttony to eat what you like;
It can be fun and healthy--as riding a bike.
Exercise is important too,
But don't obsess about what to do.
Stop being a critic of each move you make;
Eat the salad and eat the cake.
Don't look back, only ahead--
Give yourself a break and enjoy your daily bread.
Stop fussing and nagging your kid;
Set a good example and put on the lid
When you've had enough and you know when--
There's no such thing as not stopping then.
Trust yourself to eat what your body craves;
Fruits, vegetables, sugar may come in waves
As your body and emotions heal
More into balance become your meals,
You will naturally eat what you need;
Without question and calculation you will heed
Your body's true desire
Because it's not a liar
Learn to listen to your gut
And get out of the food rut!

Welcome Spring

March 1st and we are more than ready for Spring in Michigan. A new attitude is what I'm feeling as I feel the sunshine and anticipate warmer, longer days. Crocus will soon appear. Like the changing weather, I too am changing to a lighter spirit, ready to embrace all that is life. I thank God for all he gives me--for it is all my experience--and though I may not recognize its signifigance, it all matters and works to our greater good. Praise God for sunshine, love, laughter and joy on this beautiful day!

Orange, Pink and Blue

Orange, pink and blue
Do you know what to do?
When the sky changes color
As the seasons shift gears
Energy rebounds, but the air is still cold
Not time to plant or swim or hike
Not time to sit and read by the fire.
But what time is the in-between time?
Orange, purple, white
As day descends to night
The days stretch longer
Cabin fever soars higher
What is my outlet?
To Write?

Short Story: Early Discharge

“Get behind me/thee Satan,” I repeat. I step into the elevator and hit the button 1. I’m descending.

As the elevator hit each floor from 12 to 1, I repeat the mantra, “Get behind me Satan.”

Temptation is nothing new to me. I’ve been an alcoholic all my life and a food addict. But this time, I tell myself it will be different. Here I am, being released from the hospital. I’ve been detoxed, received outpatient, and spent 2 weeks in the psych ward. Still, voices in my head tell me to stop at the corner store before going home. I need groceries is the excuse. But the party store doesn’t exactly specialize in fresh produce. No, I’ll go straight home. Then, I can go back out if needed. Joe may have already got groceries anyway. The voice says, “No, he’s too stupid to think of that. He’s probably been feeding the kids fast food the whole time.”

I tell the voice to shut up and repeat my mantra. I’m in the parking garage, but can’t find my car. Probably because I didn’t drive here. I start digging through my purse for my cell phone. Then I remember I don’t have one anymore. I sold it for booze money. I head back to the parking garage elevator. The next thing I know, I’m lying on the ground and a large black man is running away from me with my purse in hand. I start to open my mouth to scream, but fear stops me. I remember there is no money in the purse. I used the last few dollars to buy myself a magazine in the hospital. I have no credit cards. I’ll have to get my license renewed. Oh yeh, it was revoked a few months ago when I was arrested again for drunk driving.

Have I anything left? As I stand up and go to the elevator, I spot an emergency phone. I pick it up and it connects to 911. I tell the dispatcher what happened and he tells me to go back into the hospital and wait at Admissions. I hit the button for the elevator and get in this time. As I start ascending, I remember one thing I have left. Hope. It’s just a small amount, but I can feel it in my heart, getting smaller by the minute.

I approach the Admissions desk. A tall red-headed woman with perfect makeup and a huge smile greets me. “Maggie?”

I nod.

“They called and told us what happened. Come with me.”

The nurse introduces herself as Carla and leads me to a small room. She hands me a bottle of water and motions for me to sit down.

I tell her what happened. She looks very concerned. She tells me I shouldn’t have been released without a ride home. The door opens and Joe comes in. He looks at me and says, “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” I reply with an undertone of anger.

“I thought you were being released at 4,” he says.
“
They let me go early,” I snap.

“Well, why didn’t you call?” he asks calmly despite my demeanor.

I have no response, but feel angry just the same. He should’ve been here.

The nurse looks at me with a knowing look.

I hang my head.

“I know we’ve recommended AA,” Carla says, “but I would also suggest you go to Al-Anon.”
I look at her questioningly. What the hell is Al-Anon I’m thinking.

“It’s a meeting to help you cope with your emotions. It’s for adult children or family/friends of alcoholics.”

“My mom was alcoholic,” I confess.

“Exactly. And you have the thinking patterns of growing up with the disease. You want to do everything yourself. You’re blaming your husband for not reading your mind. You are having thoughts of going back to drinking because the emotions are too much to bear. You need AA to stay sober, but you need Al-Anon to learn how to live again.”

Suddenly I feel like George Bailey in It’s A Wonderful Life as I say, “I want to live again.”

The police enter and I give them my report.

After they leave, Carla leaves Joe and me alone. I thank him for coming so quickly. I ask him about the kids, and I apologize for my temper.

He surprises me by telling me he’s already been going to Al-Anon and knows a great meeting where there’s more than one table, so we could both go. We hug and I give him a quick kiss.

He squeezes me tighter and says, “It will be all right.”

The hope is growing in my heart and suddenly I can’t wait until the kids get home from school and I can hear about their escapades. Then we’ll order a pizza for dinner. I’ll make a grocery list for tomorrow. But tonight, I’m going to an AA meeting. Tomorrow, I’m going to Al-Anon and AA.

“Let’s go,” I say.

“Wait a minute,” Joe says as he takes my hand. He starts reciting the Lord’s Prayer and I join in. “There, now we’re ready,” he says. And we are.