catholicblogger – CATHOLIC AND CHOCOLATE

Mothers

Motherhood is such a gift!

It is the gift of all gifts given to a soul, female soul. The ability to conceive, give birth, nurture. That’s the task. The main reason why she was put on the earth to have a child, children.

God is the Creator. Nothing else gives life unless He wills it. To gift a woman to conceive, is an extension of His divinity. It’s an act of great favor.

All that signifies safety, home, and a love special comes from a Mother. She is the shelter and light when all seems chaotic. She’s the peace pushed forth from Father God to distribute kindness and gentleness.

The gifts designed for the Mother were intentional to shape the world. No other being can fully share that love like a Mother. It is when she lives with a faith and belief in God that it becomes truly perfect.

On this Mother’s Day, I am grateful for my Mom Barbara and the special love she allowed to breathe through her from the Holy Spirit. I cannot describe in words how blessed I am that she was my Mom. To my sister Denise for commitment of being my help and shield, my Godmother Diana for stepping up when I needed support, and all aunts and cousins, who have shown me unconditional care and concern.

“Women are more capable than men of paying attention to another person, and that motherhood develops this predisposition even more.” – St. Pope John Paul, Mulieris Dignitatem, The Dignity of a Woman

“Thank you, women who are mothers! You have sheltered human beings within yourselves in a unique experience of joy and travail. This experience makes you become God’s own smile upon the newborn child, the one who guides your child’s first steps, who helps it to grow, and who is the anchor as the child makes its way along the journey of life.” – St. John Paul, Letter to Women

Letter to Women by Pope John Paul

Evenings at Grandma’s

Grandma’s house lovingly comes to mind now that the beginning of the spring/summer change is here.

The air is mild at sunset with a subtle breeze. The air and soon darkness of these evenings remind me of many memories I had at my Grandma Rosa’s house in Tucson, Arizona.

Family or friends who would visit, joined my Grandma who loved to sit in the front yard under her huge eucalyptus tree. Hours and hours of conversation over drinks of beer and laughter. I was too young to know what they were talking about since I would go off and play, because I knew this always meant I could be outside until possibly midnight.

Other times, Grandma would hose down her plants around the perimeter of her house, which wasn’t very big. The smell of wet dirt , even in my home backyard, reminds me of times with her during these desert nights. It’s a fragrance that stirs up home, safekeeping, peace.

I’m often thankful for memories that come with multiple senses. Now in my fifties, I choose to spend time in them, not letting them slip away so fast. Allows me to still feel the life of the moment and thank God for the remembrance.

A year has passed

A year has passed, Mom, and reflecting on the final days of your life, even if I didn’t want to, is happening without much effort. I say even if I don’t want to because I’ve already asked God for healing in this area of my grieving. But there is something to the timeline of a loved one’s final days that out of human nature, you can’t help, but reflect on. Much like holy week, which so happens to be the same timeline of Mom’s final days. In 2021, her rapid decline began during holy week.

There are many emotions and trials I went through during this first year. Going through all the grieving processes even as current as a month ago.

Conversations have continued with family and friends on all that took place during those final days. Signs, last things she said, etc. And in those conversations, my agony has been to repeat an area that was still very caught up in me.

It had to do with the anger I had towards the hospital and doctors. Also, my care and attention for Mom since she relied on me to help her. People often would say to me “but she’s with Our Lord”, “she’s in heaven”. And I would look at them a bit agitated because that piece of my heart knew that. None of these thoughts were taking away from that peace or fact that she died peacefully and is at rest.

It had to do with the loss of control I had to tend to her during her final days. I had no control.

Lent 2022 came presenting itself with what I knew needed greater participation on my part. Yes, of course, because of Easter, but also because of the suffering I still had with Mom’s passing.

One of the practices I tried to keep was adoration in front of the Blessed Sacrament at my parish. Fr. John often asks us to go and would it be too much to be there for even 15 minutes to sit and be still. I’m an occasional visitor, but now I realize I need to visit more. Each time I went, the hour would fly by.

On this particular visit, I happened to be there by myself, which is unusual. There are always parishioners present. I quickly stopped paying attention to that and began my dumping out, which means I go through all the areas of my life starting with my husband to everyone who’s on my heart and pray to the Lord for them. Then after my rosary was said, my mind drifted to the issue about Mom’s final days and the distraught I still carried about not having control to comfort her or help her in the hours where we had to be away from her in the hospital. The thoughts of her being left alone, no one helping her to eat, go to restroom, praying with her, any thought of neglect. I sat there in front of the Blessed Sacrament with my eyes closed as I thought these things. Regretful, sorrowful. Then a voice came loud into my soul, like a charge sent to my mind that said, “Give it to Me!” Without a doubt, I knew that was Our Lord and no thought of mine creating that. I quickly said “Yes, Lord, please take it from me. I give it all to You!” I’m done. I no longer want that in my life so that I can turn my attention where it needs to be. I know you have her.

It’s now been two weeks since this happened.

I recognize that was the final area to letting go of Mom’s death.

This Lent, for me, has grown my soul in ways that I know I’ve grown deeper in relationship, but also recognize those areas of my soul that I still need to work on. Thank God for that! I’m a sinner who needs a Physician! It’s been a Lent where I feel God’s present carrying my husband and I, family, in so many areas including my niece’s recent diagnosis. Shaping us, gracing us, building us.

It’s Holy Week and the Church focuses on the Passion of Our Lord preceding Easter. It begins on Palm Sunday, as every parish in the Catholic Church, reads Luke 22 and 23 that describes pivotal moments in the final days of Jesus. We go through the motions of what took place from the Last Supper (Eucharist) to his final words “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit” on the Cross.

When I recognized that Mom’s time was near, before she went into the hospital, I placed a mini white board in front of her bed so she could see it that had these same very words. I know in my heart she repeated them in her mind. This period of time will always bring so many beautiful sights, sounds, and even smells. In my personal life and my Church life. Mom’s final words, her room surrounded by flowers, family whom she loved, and Christ’s Presence.

Jesus on the Cross is all love. It represents a multitude of areas in our lives. Every time I reflect on His Passion, I find how it relates to my life. Prayer, dependency, trust, giving up self-will, peace, hope, promise of eternal life. Knowing my place on this earth and His place on the Throne.

Will the Light

Today, was the Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception. I went to my parish 8:30a Mass. I’ve been dealing with restlessness and anxiety for weeks due to mourning my Mom.

She passed away in April, but as the grieving process goes, and the holidays upon us, it feels like she passed away yesterday.

My days have been fidgety, but no matter how I busy myself, I keep to The Bible in a Year study even though I’m about 3 months behind. Life took some turns these last months and so I couldn’t keep up. Even if I did have time, I couldn’t focus.

But it’s been a saving grace for me. Listening, thinking, has given me the fuel to get through the day. I always feel peace and a bit stronger after I do my study. Most times, it does feel like I’m reaching for Our Lord’s garment.

During Advent, I admit I’ve been sluggish in what I wanted to do which was to attend weekday Mass twice a week. Because today was a holy day, I for sure did not want to miss.

Fr. Augustine, a new priest to our parish, was the celebrant. He’s known to give powerful homilies. You know when he wants you to get a point because his voice changes to a loud, deeper tone.

In his homily, he spoke about letting go of things that weigh us down. In contrast, the easy response from Mary, when she said yes to do God’s will. He also spoke about how disobedience is not only in the actions that lead to sin, but the inactions as well. For some divine reason as Fr. was speaking, it touched my soul how there has still been regrets. Much having to do in the inactions in how I dealt with the caretaking for my Mom. Holy Spirit prompted me to give it all to God – thoughts, sorrow, heartache, remorse, regret, the actions/inactions, doubts, etc. Intermixed with grieving of my mom’s absence, my soul is wrecked each day with what I wished I could’ve done or corrected. Because I’m not ever going to get that chance again, I feel as though I live in this odd, incomplete life.

That morning, Jesus made me see I can no longer do that.

Now even when thoughts try to stick in my mind, I quickly give it to God. Recognize what’s happening and pray.

This Christmas season feels numb. Days are moving, but I feel like it’s not really here, which makes Advent more difficult. I know the Lord sees me and knows my heart. I try to keep a grip and thank Him for everyday for the joys that did come.

25 Years

Twenty five years young, Ruben and I celebrate today. On February 16,1996 we said our “I do’s” with little knowledge we knew of what a commitment for life would mean. From the moment of our big wedding until now, our lives would grow in ways we didn’t know we needed. And that’s all in thanks to Jesus!

When we met in 1991, we were coworkers who then hung out as friends. It took a while to realize we wanted to date each other. And once we did, it soon became clear to me, who I wanted as my forever mate.

I came from a life of no structure and Ruben came from clear opposite. He came from a life of confidence and was I still seeking it. We both had some seeds of faith sprinkled in our lives that our family had given us, but neither one of us understood it as a priority or its strong purpose.

But through each movement, Ruben let me see his trust. That when his proposal came with the truest love I have ever seen, I said yes with all shakiness and insecurity inside of me. I used to look back at times and think how did I deserve his offer? But now my thoughts confidently shift and know whole heartedly, it was divinely designed. A year later, the great day came. When we took each other’s hands, in God’s presence, and vowed our forevers.

We quickly initiated our marriage life away from our hometown and worked towards our budding new careers. A few years later, a new home, a new stage of life, and a new stage of growth.

In 2001, five years later, lupus changed our stride. Making me weak and having us see, there was lack of importance in our marriage that needed our attention.

Then our brother passed away. And my Dad did too. Life kept teaching us fragility, sacrifice, commitment, and the need to turn to God in every way.

God has continually moved in our lives to grow in areas we didn’t know we needed. To mature and strengthen for what came next. But this only came because we gave Him access into our marriage. Showing us the life we needed to have Him, breathe in us.

And from the very beginning even though we came into our marriage with thorns and thistles (pains/brokenness from the past) to what we thought was enough to offer our marriage, God little by little began to bloom and sow our love throughout these 25 years. How much we were unaware of the need of Him in the soil of souls. To become who we are today and yet better, by God’s grace, who we are tomorrow.

Our life is ever changing and so is our maturity. We are nowhere perfect, but we help each other along the way. We know now our true life is handing over the control and giving to God what is His. To strive for a better marriage not just for ourselves, but for others to whom He places in our lives. It truly is all thanks be to God.

“To have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, until death do us part.”

Happy 25th Anniversary, my Hub.

My hero, my best friend.

Dollhouse

This is the exact dollhouse I had when I was a little girl. I had wanted one for Christmas one year and Santa didn’t disappoint. It had everything like the furniture you see.

As I was fiddling through Pinterest, I came across it and it made me think of that time. My parents home and life in it, was nothing like how I saw my dollhouse. My parents were very much fun loving. So much so, their young parenting had to do with satisfying their fun than with time spent with me and my sister. Weekends often consisted of all weekend long parties. Our home was viewed as the “party home” with alcohol and drugs. When company would arrive, I was told to go play with the visiting kids where hours we were off to fend for ourselves.

The dollhouse I had was orderly. Furniture in place. I was always cleaning it. I drew up an idea of how I wanted my home and family life to be once I got older. My home would have joy, time spent at the kitchen table, warm delicious food, and ultimately someone who gave me attention.

God always knew what the desires of my heart were even though in the process of it becoming a reality. I didn’t always give Him honor in my life. Mainly, because I always sought a void only Jesus could fill. Seeking ways to get attention. But by His grace, a time came, where everything showed His patience never wavered from me. And placed my husband in my life. We learned to understand each other. Mainly my husband towards me because I’m the one who carried most baggage. God gave my husband even more patience and developed us to create a home that, thanks to God, we’ve been in for almost 22 years. At times, I step back and look at our home and recognize those things I was without are with us in bountiful ways. All those things I wanted in my dollhouse, have been replaced with comforts and love I could never have imagined. AMDG.

Corona

We’re in this together,
Some in the beginning did say.
We took each day with news,
It got worse along the way.
The mask, sanitizer, stocked in hand,
shoo’d the sick away from somebody’s land
Days, months in,
And here we are,
Some us yelling
Lives matter, are you listening?
Where brother, sister, neighbor, friend,
defending the color of their skin.
Days, months in,
People Covid, comes with questioning
Will this nightmare ever end?
Looks taken within ourselves
Are we gonna make it count?
For there’s no time for sorrow,
Because only with Him +.
Is there even a tomorrow.

Check your oil!

For about a week, it feels as though there is a turn happening. I don’t know if it is actually happening all parts of the world or just what it seems like for me. The feeling feels like a coming on the verge of something.

Part of it, I believe, stems from fatigue now caused by the continued quarantine and restrictions. I hear it in my relatives voices and see it in the eyes of strangers. At the grocery store, where usually small talk happens, the aim is now the quicker the customer moves out of the way, the better.

Protests under the name of “Black Lives Matter” continue to happen to a degree in cities across the United States, but it appears now some are disguising under it and are rebels causing havoc on the police and city structures.

Racial history and education still much on the forefront, as it should be. Self reflection from individuals to enterprises, changing their company names and associations to themes associated with racial slurs or connotations.

There are those a part of this rebel agenda, who are trying to hijack the race discussion by turning their attention to the Catholic faith in vandalizing statues or churches. They believe these Saint statues were a part of racial injustices. On top of, there have been fires in different parts of the world that have ruined aged cathedrals. One, I know to be arson. The others are still under investigation.

Because there are more issues populating the news feed outside of the Corona virus, it only adds to the hysteria and paranoia to more and more people. People’s patience turning into anxiety, fear, and deeper worry. I have caught myself into it. I feel it physically. Today, I find out my very special aunt who has Parkinson’s is battling it to a high degree. There’s constant news thrown in your face on all the many things happening in our world instead of calming people in the changes that may need to be. Namely, that corona may be here for a while, but on the horizon, a vaccine to help combat it.

Unfortunately, I had to confront a sister of mine on a video she was sharing. This wasn’t the first time a video like this had been sent to me by family. But I had to. Videos like this surfacing all over social media. People giving attention to false prophets telling them that the George Floyd death was planned. Corona virus being provoked by the Democrats. Political talk that shimmers light on a figure that shows them walking a righteous path of God ignoring facts that not all steps have been the best for some individuals or people.

I told her to stop buying into this propaganda. To save them self away from this undue fear. How much the enemy wants us to play into these games and be trampled on in our souls and family lives. Invoking despair and passing it onto others as to lose focus on what we should be focusing on.

As I finished writing this, the thought of the virgins with the lampstands came to mind.

The Parable of the Ten Virgins.“Then the kingdom of heaven will be like ten virgins who took their lamps and went out to meet the bridegroom. Five of them were foolish and five were wise. The foolish ones, when taking their lamps, brought no oil with them,but the wise brought flasks of oil with their lamps.Since the bridegroom was long delayed, they all became drowsy and fell asleep.At midnight, there was a cry, ‘Behold, the bridegroom! Come out to meet him!’Then all those virgins got up and trimmed their lamps.The foolish ones said to the wise, ‘Give us some of your oil, for our lamps are going out.’But the wise ones replied, ‘No, for there may not be enough for us and you. Go instead to the merchants and buy some for yourselves.’While they went off to buy it, the bridegroom came and those who were ready went into the wedding feast with him. Then the door was locked.Afterwards the other virgins came and said, ‘Lord, Lord, open the door for us!’But he said in reply, ‘Amen, I say to you, I do not know you.’ Therefore, stay awake,^* for you know neither the day nor the hour.

My armor and might the Lord has reminded me is to fight with prayer, repentance, and love. To continue to point others to Whom we place our trust and to give Him all control. The day is not to be used in fear, but to pray and love one another. Those are things we can be definite about to our day. Nothing else is in our control. Let’s give Him our days.

COVID19

This post has been transpiring since March 3rd, but only now I sit and write.

The world has been struck a virus. A deadly virus that was born in China and spread rapidly throughout the world (even though that’s under investigation of its origin). Each country receiving devastating results. Hospitals past capacity, treating patients in tents outside as well. In the United States, it hit the State of Washington first. Initially, this virus, called COVID19 (Corona virus), was informed as attacking the elderly and those who are immune suppressed. As the world was showing, as days passed, the information started changing by the minute. It now is known as attacking anyone. No clear rule or definition. People surviving on ventilators. Becoming very sick, near death without any underlying health issues. At this point, after almost 3 months, the world seems to be calming down from this virus.

Because of the rapid spread, the world was on quarantine, which happen to begin when Lent was still in effect. Quarantine, by the way, is a Latin word meaning forty days of isolation. Countries began to follow suit and forbid people to go out, only if medical attention or to buy food. The phrase “shelter in place” or “stay home” commonly used so that people understood staying home meant less spread of the virus. This only drew up fear in some that the shopping frenzies began. People stormed to the grocery stores, big box stores, and bought out all the toilet paper, hand sanitizer, etc. For weeks, people would crowd and stockpile items that didn’t have to be taken since the quarantine never meant you couldn’t go out to buy things when needed.

During the initial weeks, my husband and I were home, while Mom whom we care for, was with my sister.

The daily news fed stories on hospital workers, grocery workers, Amazon (on-line store) workers, “essential workers”, that were working around the clock trying to keep up with the demand. Everyday around three o’clock, the President would give a press conference with some medical professionals and scientists on what is being monitored, done to help, and future impact.

My husband who works for healthcare, was non stop busy from March 3 for a month. There would be days that he didn’t leave the face of his computer. He was working around the clock along with his staff and the entire hospital. All that they were working on came to a screeching halt because the focus turned to COVID19 and how the hospitals were responding. Extra facilities were being opened up to house the not so critical patients so that the hospital could deal with the high number of COVID19 patients. Weeks of intense issues popping up everyday. There was a moment in the late evening, husband still on a conference call, where I heard him say “hold on, my head is spinning.” I felt helpless.

All I did while my husband worked away was prepare him meals and pray. I prayed and prayed. Along with all my family and friends. The world. Out of our control. And from my experiences due to my health, that was somewhat normal.

Then, we received news that we could no longer attend Church. That due to the virus spread, we couldn’t by law be in a congregation setting. Rules starting to dictate no more than 10 can be together. Keep six feet apart. Wear a mask. The virus was airborne and so everything that brought people together, could no longer. Sports, concerts, movie theaters, etc.

Initially, Ruben did all the shopping. Due to my immune and not having a supply of masks, he would go and buy us what we need. We bought food that we felt could last us some weeks. Good in that, we don’t normally eat much on our own.

In the beginning of the quarantine, it felt like okay, this is what we have to do. We’ll handle it! So did our neighborhood and community. We all felt like we will be at peace and have patience. Tons of neighbors walking about. For the most part, people were working from home too so you would see them out all hours of the day.

Then more orders from the government came. Adding more weeks to the quarantine because states like New York and California were hitting devastating numbers of patients and deaths.

In the midst of monitoring the United States and the our impact, I was also seeing China and Italy. They too had devastating cases, but then you saw that the virus had touched the whole world except for Antarctica. India was and is still being hit harshly and it appears their government is only making it worse.

The month of March happened in a second.

April started to feel less strained and with holy week approaching, it felt like no other holy week. Again, none could attend Church and out of all weeks of the year, this is the week most attend. Not even explaining the loss of the Eucharist and how odd on so many levels it was, still is, not to receive.

Pope Francis called for prayer many times throughout. The impact of his prayer and focus for all to watch on TV or live stream, I know for me, meant so much. There was a moment during a special prayer, where he upheld the monstrance outside of St Peter’s in a way that through the TV, struck my soul. Tears abound.

Throughout April until now, our family dealt with trials in the midst of the pandemic. Thanks to God not due to financial needs, but physical and mental health. I felt like the need and call for prayer has intensified each week. I’m sure we are not the only ones feeling this.

Easter brought hope! Renewed faith. The extra weeks of quarantine were coming to an end. Stores were now showing a normal supply of stock. Some exhale was beginning.

May 15th, the date the State of Arizona ended quarantine. Restaurants, salons, shopping centers, all were allowed to open up but only with strict rules. Wear a mask at some and others, your choice. Stay 6 feet apart. Only so many allowed in a store at a time. Enter in one way, exit another. But hey, it’s better than nothing.

Then there became talk about wearing a mask. Mask shows weakness. Liberal agenda insisting on wearing a mask. The most hilarious conversation on the use of a mask. Yes, I wear my mask. I still do. Did before and do now. Lupus will teach you that!

Three weeks out now, but now our world is addressing another virus. On May 26th, a police officer made a decision that has affected our focus once again. Look up George Floyd. I will use another blog to address this event because it has caused me to unpack so many thoughts and feelings.

Don’t know if we will ever get back to normalcy. These last weeks all feel like one month. My husband and I haven’t visited our families. We miss them. We miss doing ordinary things, but know we have a purpose and call to prayer to get us through. All that is happening is requiring us not to just think of ourselves, our country, but the world. How much we are in need of each other. It doesn’t end. The reminders in various ways. And throughout it all, the deep rooted biblical messages. That too, I would like to dive into in another blog.

The chant in the beginning of the pandemic, “We’re all in this together!” I hope so.

Primal Loss Book Review

There was a book circulating on Instagram from those I follow that caught my attention, “Primal Loss, The Now Adult Children of Divorce Speak” by Leila Miller.

It didn’t take me long to realize this would be a tough one to read.

Leila Miller, a Catholic author/writer, compiled questions and answers from participants from all walks of life. The book, “gives voice to the adult children of divorce. Their stories are not pretty. ..breaks through layers and layers of pro-divorce propaganda.” Answers are given numbers to keep the participant anonymous. Much of the responses I could relate to, to the point of highlighting, noting a page, and writing in my answers.

Chapter one, “The Effect of the Divorce”, the first question, ‘What effect has your parents’ divorce had on you?’ The answers are raw and some sound as if they are still struggling. Response noted: “Stunted my ability to properly form my own emotions” and “parental presence, instruction, and stability were often missing in my childhood.”

The second chapter, “Feelings as Child vs. Feelings as Adult, what is the difference between how you felt about divorce as a child and how you feel about it as an adult?” There was a response I highlighted from a woman who spoke about her brokenness and how she carried it into her marriage. That early on, she wrestled with the behaviors, but thanks to God, her husband, “never gave up…even when I gave him reason to walk away…through their marriage, I have come to learn what love means, what truth means.”

Third chapter, “View of Marriage, has our parents’ divorce affected your own marriage or your view of marriage?” A reply noted: “I struggle with trusting my husband. I am always waiting for the other shoe to drop, which I am sure must be related to the feeling of abandonment by my family of origin.”

Fourth chapter, “Are children resilient? What do you want to say to people who say that ‘children are resilient’ and ‘kids are happy when their parents are happy’ and ‘kids of divorce will be just fine and will go on to live successful lives?” Responses marked: “What divorce does is shatter that universe in a drastic and traumatic way, and there’s no coming back from that. It even changes the way you perceive reality, you become anxious, nothing ever feels safe or predictable, and you’re always waiting for the piano to fall” and “I was never happy with the way things were. I simply accepted that I had no control over any of it.”

Chapter five, “Speak to your parents, then and now, what would you say directly to your parents…how it affected you, would you advise them to do it differently?” Response noted: “I would have told them that God must be at the center of their marriage, that they were losing focus on the family, and that they were pursuing too much of their own self interest” and “I didn’t even know my pain was buried, but every now and then something would trigger this little girl inside of me.”

Chapter six, “What society should know, what do you most want adults in our society to know about how divorce affects the children?” Response noted: “I’d want them to know that divorce is likely affecting their kids in way that they, the adults, can’t see or understand” and kids “often don’t gain the vocabulary and perspective to even begin to articulate all they are experiencing and questioning until well into adulthood.”

Chapter seven, “The role of faith in healing, what role has your faith played in your healing?” Response noted: “My faith taught me that marriage is a vocation that leads me to unification to God. It isn’t “romantic” love or superficial happiness; true love is an act of will.”

Chapter eight, “To those facing divorce, what would you want to say to children facing their parents’ divorce today?” Response noted: “You will confuse them and make them feel abandoned in the process” and “all the positive things you modeled for your children will be eclipsed by the disordered things you modeled when divorce is the punchline” and “even though they are children, they have a voice and should say, loud and clear, what they are feeling.”

Now my response.

I begin by admitting, the book took me a while to finish. For whatever reason, I would become anxious before and while reading. There were emotions, thoughts, that I felt I was clear of, but then memories surfaced that I had forgotten. I would stop and think, text my sister, ask for her recount. Sometimes, I would ask my Mom questions throughout the day, to see if she could recall situations. And for those who don’t know me or my blog, my Dad is no longer alive. He passed away in 2006 from sarcoma cancer. However, before my Dad died, we did talk and reconcile (thanks be to God).

Before I go any further, I wanted to share when I found out my parents were divorcing. It was a weekday morning. I was leaving to go to school in 7th grade. That’s when I was given the news. I clearly remember it was in the winter, clear morning, and my world began to close in. My sister, who is eight years older than me, was already married with her new little family. My Dad was quickly out of the house which left just Mom and me. Mom worked a full time job and soon began to search in her ways of attention and self seeking joy. In 7th grade, I tried marijuana and alcohol and continued using through my Sophmore year of high school. Time at home on the weekends was on my own or, thanks to my sister, spent with her on the weekends. My Mom and Dad led selfish lives fulfilling their own needs and not looking towards mine. I was fed and clothed, but the impact of my parents non-emotional non-spiritual care was heavily felt.

Even after reconciling with my mom a couple of years ago, this book pushed out things I still had trapped in my heart I didn’t know I had. Thankfully, when we spoke she listened to me when I vented the pain it caused me. Mom is 77 years now. So even though, there are more things I would like to clear up, she can’t recall nor does she have capacity to help me resolve. In a way, once I realized that, it saddened me because I know I will need to deal with it with God and on my own.

This book was a challenge, but I know I had to read it not just for me, but also for my nephews and niece who are also victims of divorce. I can see much of their own behaviors in the book that match. They are adults now. This book gives me knowledge that I could help them in ways I didn’t notice before.

But I think the biggest thing I took away from this book, is my progress made by faith as a now adult child of divorce.

There was a moment in the book when I jumped up, put the book down, and ran over to my husband and cried to him. I literally saw God’s hand paint over my life from the time of the family destruction to where I am now. Holding my husband’s hand, I cried and said, “Thank you! Thank you for staying with me in the beginning when our first years of marriage were rough. For not retaliating and leaving me. For understanding I had a rough past and still with some issues to this day.” His answer, “we broke the cycle.” How much Our Lord Jesus knows our pains and struggles. How much He heard my cries as a teenager, saying randomly, how I never want to be like my parents or have a marriage like them. The times when I was left alone to grieve the loss of family from junior high through high school, keeping it inside, moving like a zombie pretending to be normal and happy. Through the time after high school, living a double life of seeking attention and finding myself in the pew with my sister’s family on Sunday’s because I felt I was holding onto something good.

In many ways, I know that’s why this blog started. It was healing and still is healing. I know the way God needed to reach me and stop the pain and focus I was starting to show in my marriage, despite putting in front of me a husband, stability, love, was to diagnose me with Lupus. I know for sure, that put me to change, have recourse in my life that I’m forever grateful. It allowed me to see truth.

Catechism of the Catholic Church: 1621

In the Latin Rite the celebration of marriage between two Catholic faithful normally takes place during Holy Mass, because of the connection of all the sacraments with the Paschal mystery of Christ. In the Eucharist the memorial of the New Covenant is realized, the New Covenant in which Christ has united himself for ever to the Church, his beloved bride for whom he gave himself up. It is therefore fitting that the spouses should seal their consent to give themselves to each other through the offering of their own lives by uniting it to the offering of Christ for his Church made present in the Eucharistic sacrifice, and by receiving the Eucharist so that, communicating in the same Body and the same Blood of Christ, they may form but “one body” in Christ.