Nothing like being old, as in mature, half deaf, but still kicking, racing down Blackstone Avenue on a scooter, and insisting on your Tuesday discount at Ross's when it's Thursday!

     My big sister, Marylyn is a NEW AGE tomorrow, March 14.  Well, she is kind of "new agey" in general, but tomorrow, she begins yet another year.  I don't think she is in triple digits yet.  I should know that, shouldn't I?  And she would know or feel it, perhaps, well, if any of us can still feel when we get into triple digits.  But in all seriousness, she is still somewhere in the double digit range, in fact, only eight years older than young Mr. Me!

     When I was very young, I could not pronounce her name, so I called her DAWA.  I think the Koreans have a car by that name now.  Little did I know that looking at my sister, as a little kid, was actually looking into automotive future.

     I remember her teaching me all the Latin responses to the Catholic liturgy, so I could be an altar boy at the age of six.  Ad deum qui laetificat, juventutem meum....quia tu es Deus fortitudo meo....Confiteor....Kyrie Eleison....Et cum Spiritu tuo....

     My God, she drilled me, with a bright light shining in my face till I could say it all by memory.  Then my Dad would drag me out of bed at 6 o'clock each morning so I could serve morning Mass with him.  I was one holy kid!!  Of course, my Latin instructor was never there!!!  I could never figure that one out.

     My big sister ran off to become a nun when I was only eight years old.  Because of that, I got to walk the gridiron at Knute Rockne Stadium at Notre Dame, Indiana.  Thanks, Sis.  All the other places she travelled to as a Nun were not exactly on the travel guide show.  Well, there was Salt Lake City, where she was married I am not sure how many times by Mormon men who wanted to be sure she was saved.  I know, I'm leaving out some important details, and Del is wondering why all those guys are kicking in some money!!

     She finally did marry one cool Dude, Del, who used to drive a Ferarri until Marylyn made him trade it in for a scooter, and I probably have that story a little mixed up as well.  But what are blogs for, especially birthday blogs?  Certainly not for the uninteresting facts of your life, but the exciting and exaggerated facts of your life.

     Well, as you can tell, Sis left the nunnery and moved to Fresno where for a while, she worked in the vineyards and developed her own winery.  It was called Two Buck MJB.  Folks often thought she owned the coffee company, but she was just into the winery!

     I guess I could go on and on here.  Making up story after story and no one will know which ones are accurate and which ones are, well, manufactured, perhaps is the best description.

     But here is the bottom line, the facts as I see them.  My sister is a sweet old gal, generous as one can be, young at heart, permanently pressed (wrinkle free), a little deaf, and I can still call her sister even though, she is no longer a nun!

     So there you have it.  When you see the glow in the sky tomorrow night, it's probably her birthday cake.

     Happy Birthday Marilyn.  Click on the link to have the Beattles sing Happy Birthday to you.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=glNjsOHiBYs  

 

     Today, my sisters and I commemorate our Mom's passing in 2002  On Friday night, March 8th of that year, at her request, we brought her home from the hospital so she could die at home in her own bed.  Early Sunday morning, March 10, with all of us on the floor around her bed sleeping, she quietly "snuck out" on us!

     She told us that she would let us know that she was watching over us by sending little white butterflies into our paths and so she has, even when little white butterflies are supposedly not in season.

     My Mom was a concert pianist and as a little boy, I had the opportunity of attending many concerts right there in my own living room.  I especially enjoyed watching her play "Stars and Stripes" by John Philip Sousa.  I was amazed at how far her fingers could stretch and how fast they could move up and down the keyboard.  I especially enjoyed listening to "Clair De Lune" by Debussy.  She played like a master.

     My Mom was--is--a powerful, prayerful, and thoughtful woman.  There was a time that my relationship with her was a tad like the relationship between the mother and daughter in the Ya Ya Sisterhood movie, but that all changed when she came to be with me when Roberta was dying.  She herself was not well at the time, but she was determined to give us the special gift of her presence and support during the last two weeks of Roberta's life here on earth.  And she did.  She took care of Roberta and me in the fashion of a medicine woman full of wisdom and healing power.

     I have so many fond memories.  Chocolate pudding deserts, getting lost in Gottschalk (!), and the Chrism Mass on Holy Thursdays. Back in the forties, that was a colorful cerermony especially for a little kid.  Then there were the lessons.  Mom showed us the evils of slot machines by inserting a dime which was supposed to just diappear.  Unfortunatley for the lesson, she won a jackpot!  Whenever we traveled as a family on Fridays, we tried to get away with ordering cheese burgers until Mom noticed that they also had meat in them.  She made the waiter return them.  "We can't eat those," she would loudly proclaim.  "We're Catholics!"  We were always THE Catholics in the neighborhood even though there were many other Catholic families on our block!

     For many years, we lived practically across the street from the railroad tracks, so Mom and I fed the hobos several days a week.  I think our house was marked.

     Mom taught me how to love people, no strings attached.  Mom passed on to me her faith.  Without that precious gift from her, I imagine I would have given up on life a long time ago.

     So here's to you, Mom, and all the rest of the family up there with you.  I imagine you will have a barbecue today, and Dad will cook Pilaf, but you won't have to do dishes!

     It's "tricky" to say that I miss you because you keep showing up when I least expect!  But I do miss you.       

 

     After thinking about this blog for several days, I realize that some very intense research by Daniel Durand sparked some of my comments.  I do not want to give the impression that my comments are totally original, flowing from my allleged mind!  I want to acknowledge the inspiration from Dan's work which I read through a couple of weeks ago.  His insights obviously were absorbed and helped me to use this blog to make sense out of my own wonderings about my church.  Dan is in the process of putting together an article regarding the abuse of power within organizational church.  Thank you, Dan

 

 

 

     Is your church like my church?  The organizational church proclaims the Gospel, but then mistreats and engenders hate toward certain groups of God's people.  It's embarrassing to me and a reality I just cannot figure out.  I mean, come on, it's been going on for two thousand years.  Wake up and smell the Gospel, folks!

     Well, maybe the organizational church is just like me.  There are so many beliefs that I myself have and even invite others to follow.  You know, for example, taking good care of my health.  And yet in my own practice of living, I so often do not live a healthy lifestyle.  My belief in health remains a belief and does not fully mature into a lived value.  So  maybe that's it.  Your church and my church are made up of a bunch of folks just like us!!

     I am in awe of the bright lights in my church:  Incredible human beings like Mother Theresa and Sister Dorothy Stang and Pope John XXIII.  Unfortunately, they're all dead!  If you are not familiar with Sister Dorothy, google her name and watch the upcoming HBO special about her.  You can check HBO's website for days and times of the showing of "They Killed Sister Dorothy" in your area.

     I attended Sunday liturgy yesterday in our "new" church building in Yucaipa.  They have not raised sufficient money to pay for the new building, and I've heard rumors that some of the staff have had to take a cut in pay because of the indebtedness.  This large, in some ways, impressive structure, with an awesome openness and spaciousness on the inside, is tightly chained and locked most of the week.  Thank God, they don't lock up San Gorgonio peak, another local cathedral, another house of God.

     I'm not an algebra wiz, so equations can easily get passed my comprehension.  But it makes no sense that an organizational Church will stand for life from conception to birth, and even stand against the death penalty, but will turn around and preach such hateful diatribe toward gay people and pay homage to folks who preach that the Holocaust never happened.  What is with that?  Who are you, Benedict?  I forgot, you are the successor of Peter who denied Jesus three times.  So I guess with inheritance, you get it ALL, the good genes and the not so good ones!!

     I suppose the fact that your church and my church continue to exist is some testimony that God and the Holy Spirit are more powerful than our strongest and weakest links. 

     I'm back to my belief in mystery and that much of life is just that, mysterious.  It would be so much easier if I could disown my church, but I can't.  No more than I can disown my family as wonderful and as disfunctional as it is--all at the same time.  Ah yes.  My family, my church, and my SELF.  I am sure I am a big mystery to Dianna and all the wonderful people who keep on loving me despite all the crazy things and at times unloving things I do.

     Hve a good week, folks.  Let's celebrate imperfection!!