Today I got to go to mass just me and Alaina. We decided to give potty training a try with Justin, so we didn't want to take him out for that amount of time, only to have to deal with a mess in the pew. So...Michael went to mass with Julia yesterday, and I took Alaina today. It was so nice because I was able to focus on what was being said more than making sure the kids kept quiet and didn't become major disturbances. I don't know why, but I still feel like people look at me like I'm a single mom even though I have that wedding ring on my finger. It's fading...it's not as bad as it was when Julia was first born, but it's still there especially on days like today when I'm sitting at church holding a baby (most likely to the point that no one can see my wedding ring), feeling like I'm being silently admonished.
Anyways...that's not the point of this post!
As I sat there, able to focus and really listen to what the readings said, and what the priest shared in his homily, I got emotional. I didn't exactly cry, but there were tears welling up, and I had to hold back quite a bit. See...the story that the priest shared hit pretty close to home for me today. He was talking about how his dad had passed away when his brother was only 9 years old. Said brother became very musically inclined, and later decided to join the Air Force. The priest ran into his brother one weekend after he had been enlisted for just a couple of short years. His brother was visibly depressed. To the point that our priest was afraid his brother may commit suicide. This scared him, and he became very, very concerned. The following year, the priest saw his brother again and he was happy. Like did a complete 180...was happy, confident, comfortable...HAPPY again. So he went and asked his brother what happened. The response he got was completely eye opening. This is the part that got me... His brother responded with "Dad talked to me." The priest was totally taken aback by this and said "What?". His brother said "Dad talked to me. He told me that he's with me."
I've had a few homilies hit close to home for me, but this one has special meaning especially now. See...this year will mark 4 years since my friend Adam passed away. This homily reminded me again about the dream I had of him. I had been very caught up in the fact that I wasn't able to go to his funeral (Michael and I were on our honeymoon), that I hadn't had the proper chance to say good-bye, and I was wondering how he was since he had passed. I'm the first person to tell you that someone is in a better place...that they're not hurting anymore...or that they're watching over you. But when it's someone so close to you, that's hard to come to terms with. In my dream, I was sitting on a bench with his sister when he approached me and told me "I'm fine". It's still so ingrained in my head... Needless to say, it was very hard to fight back the tears, and I'm getting pretty choked up just thinking about it again. I could barely sing the next hymn, too! It was "Be Not Afraid"... *sigh* The timing of these things just blows my mind sometimes!
God bless, and Happy Mother's Day again!