Sunday, January 27...celebration of life as a baptized member of the Catholic family...Cookie is one of the ninongs to Kirsten Rose..she's absolutely adorable.
Monday, January 28...received a phone call from a friend who's father has been ill for more than a decade, suffering from cancer. He called to tell me that they decided to no longer continue the chemo...my heart sank with my friend. I cried with him sharing the sentiments of helplessness and wanting to be strong...trying hard not to be selfish or angry...but more of panicing at the thought that I may lose my father at any moment.
Tuesday night, January 29... gathered with brothers and sisters at our friend's house to pray for his gravely ill father. All day, memories of all the times we thought we'd lose my dad...the feelings all to clear and real...the sleepless night wondering and praying like you NEVER thought you could before. Thoughts of how much I miss my father...and prayers for those who just lost their father or may lose them at any time.
Wednesday, January 30...what a restless hectic day. My mind and heart...all over the place, diligently focusing on the Lord. Then I get a phone call at my desk...to let me know our friend's father, the very same one we gathered to pray for, passed away to rest in peace. The thoughts..the emotions that come with death that I've experienced...empathizing with our brother in Christ, his sister, his mother...all soooo much. It was like slow motion but going so fast. We gather that night to start the traditional 9 day Novena for the dead...I look at my friend and I see my brother in him...and I pray harder.
Thursday, January 31...spent the entire day asking the Lord to prepare me for the wake. The wake was the same venue that we were just at last Sat for Cook's uncle Edgar. Rest in peace father of our friend. I go to the wake with my brother...no Cookie, no Addison and Branden...no make up, hair not done just me. I know that I'm going to be a mess because I just felt it. I cried and turned out, I was alot better than I thougth. Just at the close of the prayer service, my ex-boyfriend from high school, one of the many instruments of my past the Lord used me to bring me to HIM walked into the wake. I have not seen him since 1998? something like that I don't even remember anymore. It was one of those akward moments- do I say hi? do I not say hi? Meanwhile my heart and mind was reliving my father's wake. I said screw it...I'm here for our friend and to pray for the repose of his father's soul. So I never said hi. The thing is- the hurtful, ugly memories that I prayed for to receive healing from, came to fruition. When I saw him, I wasn't mad or angry or indifferent, I was at peace and I even prayed that the Lord blesses him and his loved ones.
Friday, February 1...I go to work and stayed home. Couldn't do it. Couldn't go out. A heavensent angel come over.
Saturday, February 2. The mass and burial of our friend's father. It was surreal.
This entire week felt as if all I could do was cry and sceam...but NO ONE heard it. So many things have been put to death and celebrate a new form of life...but in an interesting way...it pierces your heart that you so much that you don't know what it sounds like. You know how it feels...you know what to do to let it out, BUT...can you hear me? I'm screaming. Can you hear that? I'm mourning. Do you recognize that? it's a cry for help.
