Mass Adventures and Mournful Tears

Well, it finally happened. I made it Mass! Can you hear the angelic choir singing? I can. Oh wait, that was the choir at the High Mass I attended Sunday night. lol. I must admit that I so desperately wanted my first Mass back (from illness) to be a Latin Mass, specifically on All Saints' Day since it's one of my favorite feast days. For reasons I've already sort-of explained, it didn't happen on All Saints' Day but I did go Sunday. That itself was an adventure.

My poor mama got food poisoning earlier in the day and I wanted to cancel our scheduled trips to and from the local Latin Mass but she wouldn't let me. Even an hour before we had to leave, she was still feeling poorly. I was prepared to attend Mass closer to home (anything to get her to Mass; she won't go if I don't take her with me) but she said that she knew how much I wanted to attend a Latin Mass so she sacrificed her comfort for me.

We arrived at the church a few minutes before the Mass began and I got to meet a Twitter friend in person, which was lovely. I made it through the Mass despite the use of incense. Sure, I got a bit lightheaded towards the end but nothing I can't handle in small doses. The only thing I wasn't happy with was that I still can't kneel for long periods of time because I'm still in recovery mode. Still, that is something that I'll be working on and God knows what I can and can't do with where I am, physically.

We left the parish almost immediately after the Mass was over since the taxi had arrived early and they won't wait more than 5 minutes after your assigned time. On the way back home, we had a close encounter with a driver who decided they wanted to merge into our lane... while we were occupying it. I'm so grateful to our guardian angels and our fast thinking/acting taxi driver. Before we got home, a high-speed chase flew by us with about a good half dozen (if not more) police cars following the car. That was a first for this L.A. native; I'd only seen them on TV before Sunday. Needless to say, my poor mother arrived home shaking and very anxious. I think she was still nervous yesterday morning when I drove her to work. I'm pretty sure she won't go to the Sunday night Latin Mass with me until we have Daylight Saving Time again. lol. See? I told you it was an adventure.

I was still on a Mass high (first time receiving the Eucharist in almost two months!) on Monday when I received the terrible news that one of the kindest people I've ever met had passed away. As I mentioned a few weeks ago,, I was able to secure free exam proctoring at my CINO college alma mater. Being a distance education student at a university out of state, we have to get our exams proctored. Most proctors charge $20+ (average is about $40) per exam (or per hour) so I reached out to Ms. Michele Lewis (that was her name) to ask if either my alma mater had proctoring for former students or if she knew of someone who didn't charge an arm and a leg. She was "taking the semester off" for the Fall semester but she arranged it so that I could take my exams on campus free of charge (instead of charging $30 per exam), not only for the Fall semester but the entire school year, until my tentative graduation date in early May.

I went through my usual routine yesterday morning. I made breakfast, praying the Little Office before leaving, battled morning rush hour traffic, and went through my flashcards before taking my exam. Since I was to take my exam in Ms. Lewis' office, I decided to ask how she was doing. Immediately, I knew I was in for some surprising news but I wasn't expecting the worst. I was told "take your exam first and then we'll talk." After taking the exam, I was getting ready to leave when my current proctor asked me to follow her back into Ms. Lewis' office. She told me to sit down and then she dropped the bomb on me -- Ms. Lewis had passed away. I was shocked. I was expecting to hear that she'd left the school for another job but wasn't expecting this news. I tried to keep myself from tearing up but I couldn't hold it in. I left the office in a sort of daze and walked up the steep hill to the center of the campus where I found a bunch and try to catch my breath.

I had a few minutes to reflect on the news I'd been given before I had to come back home. I sat on the familiar bench I've used since my time as an undergrad and I teared up. I looked at the chapel on campus and at the beautiful statue of Mama Mary in front of the chapel, in the middle of the campus center. I remembered the Ms. Lewis' kindness. As an undergrad, she'd helped secure me extra time (which I never needed) and a quiet room to do my exams in when my anxiety was so bad that I couldn't concentrate in classrooms. When I had issues with the music professor who made me cry in her classroom (some of you may remember how poorly I was treated at my alma mater), she helped me sort things out. Before I graduated, she sat down with me and gave me post-graduation advice about what careers options that I still remember and keep in mind 4.5 years later. At graduation, she arranged it so that I could sit close to my family and to an exit in case I wanted to leave early (again, when my anxiety was so bad that feeling trapped in crowded places set off panic attacks). Her last act of kindness was getting me these exams proctored for free.

I'm still tear up when I think that she's gone but I'm grateful for everything she did. She was beloved by student, staff, and alumni for a good reason. I remember her being a kind, generous, and gentle soul who went above and beyond to help students succeed. Not just with me; fellow alumni friends have remarked about what a lovely woman she was. I remember what Fr. M said about the souls in purgatory at Sunday's Mass, about how important it is to pray for them. I will be sure to have a Mass said for her as well as pray for her whenever she comes to mind. Rest in peace, Ms. Michele Lewis. Thank you for being a rose in a bramble of thorns.

I didn't mean for this post to end on such a downer so I'll say this: while it's sad that she has passed, at least she's not suffering. It's the same consolation I have about my father's death -- it hurts that they're no longer here but they left behind beautiful memories that I'll always cherish; that have made me a better person. :)

Anyway, I need to go pick up my mom from work and then we're going to go vote so that's it for now. :)

I hope y'all are having a lovely week thus far... or, as sane as possible. ;)

As always, thanks for reading and God bless! :D

Bittersweet St. Patrick's Day

If you're a Facebook friend or follow me on Twitter you'll know why today has been a bittersweet St. Patrick's Day. My niece's little daughter (my brother's granddaughter and my dad's first great grandchild) passed away at 5:30 this morning. On Monday she nearly drowned and she'd been in the hospital since that night. The oxygen was cut off from her brain and she was unresponsive though her pulse had been steady up until last night. The doctors told us to abandon hope yesterday and I stubbornly refused to. The chances of survival were at 20% but we still hoped and prayed. We were just recovering for the major blow of my dad's death (I was still heavily mourning a year ago) so this was horribly unexpected.

It's a little strange that my favorite day of the year (besides Christmas) will now be the anniversary of my little niece's death. I seriously looked forward to this day more than I do my birthday. This was going to be the first year I would celebrate St. Patrick's Day with confirmation that I'm actually part Irish (it was confirmed while going through my father's things and family tree). I'm sure in the coming years I'll be able to look at today as being the day in which my dad was joined by his first great granddaughter in heaven and will celebrate her life like I would any other member of my life. Today, I will mourn her death.

If y'all could please say a little prayer for my little niece, I would greatly appreciate it. May her mother (my older niece), her grandparents (my brother and sister-in-law), and the rest of the family make it through this time.

I'm sorry for such a downer post. I actually planned on talking about Irish Catholic traditions and more about my discovery of my Irish heritage (which was amazing for this Hibernophile) but maybe I'll wait until next year.

I hope y'all have a great St. Patrick's Day and that those who will go out drinking will be safe and have a designated driver.

Should This Nerd Stay or Go?

It's been over a month since dad died and I'm still attempting to go on with my life as much as I can. Last Tuesday, the 11th, a good friend of mine took my mom and I to the cemetery to leave flowers for dad since it had been a month since he died. I think we're going back on the 22nd to leave him more flowers, since he was buried the 22nd of July. The shock has worn off, the crying comes and goes. I'm also going through the "anger" stage in the mourning process at the moment. I feel upset all the time but I keep it in because I know if I snap it'll be directed towards my mother (who's also going through the anger stage; we're driving each other crazy so we interact as little as possible at the moment) and that would not only be disrespectful, but very hurtful. The last thing I want is to hurt her. I went through the numbness and the shock. I went through the guilt stage pretty quickly because Lord knows I did all I could to help him. The depression stage is supposed to come and go and I already went through a bit of that last week. But while I'm going through all of this, I'm still hopeful and optimistic. It's weird that I've been able to hold onto this throughout everything. I guess I truly am an eternal optimist.

I guess maybe I am still going through a guilt stage... only not over dad's death. With school starting on the 31st for me, I have to start thinking (again) on where I'll apply to for transfer this Fall. I have ruled out Mount St. Mary's College (L.A.) for good, though I was truly happy there. I'm trying to be practical and it would just be too expensive for me to be there for another couple of years. I've been thinking of re-applying to UBC in Vancouver, Canada (where I was originally destined for this Fall) and a couple of univerisities in England because it's always been a dream of mine to attend college outside the States. If I could, without any guilt, I would go to UBC. But I can't exactly do that without thinking things through... and with A LOT of prayer.

See, I have this dilemma right now. For the first time in my college career, I don't have anything keeping me in Los Angeles. Every time in the past, there was something - usually dad's battles with cancer. Now that dad's no longer with us, and I've got a good handle on my anxiety, there's nothing that's really keeping me here... except my mother. The one time I have the ability to be selfish and follow one of my dreams, I can't because I have mom to take care of. I'm fully aware that she's a grown woman and can take care of herself... yet, I still feel responsible for her. In so many ways, I've become the adult in the family. I keep track of things and keep her from doing things (like spending massive amounts of money on things we don't need) that would affect the both of us. She's currently battling another cold... which she got because she didn't listen to me about not taking a shower and then going out at 4 in the morning, a number of times. She was just getting over her bronchitis and I knew the cold, wet hair + cold pre-dawn weather would not help her. It's weird that it's almost like roles have been reversed and now I'm the mother in this relationship. Because of all of this, I feel like I can't go... though I really want to.

Now the question I have is... should I stay or should I go? UBC is my dream school and I think I have a pretty good chance of getting in and doing very well there. I want to be autonomous, which I know I can be, and really enjoy my youth. Of course, doesn't mean I'm going to go crazy -- I just want to go to a top university that offers all the courses I would love to take. Anyway, my idea of a good time is drinking tea and reading a book. lol. AND UBC has both a Newman Center for Catholic students AND a Catholic chapel within the university. That was what sealed the deal for me -- what made me really want to go there. At the same time, I'm afraid to leave my mother. Not afraid because I don't think I can take care of myself, I know I can. I'm afraid of leaving her here because I know she would need me in more ways than one. I'm the only family she has left; I have her AND my brothers and sister left.

It doesn't help that she's starting to guilt trip me into not going anywhere. I honestly can't even go out with my friends, even if it's for a quick bite. She either wants to go with me EVERYWHERE I go, or if I tell her (politely and respectfully) that I'd like some alone time with my friends, she guilt trips me into staying home because she can't come with me. It's both frustrating and understandable. I think this is where part of the "anger" I'm feeling is coming from, and I don't like it. As Fr. Juan told me last week, the opposite of love is anger, so I should really try to get this out of my system. I've started asking St. Jerome for his help in dealing with this impatience/anger/frustration since he had a similar problem when he was alive. I'm not used to feeling this way; it's all very new to me.

Maybe I've felt an inexplicable want/need to be closer to St. Therese of Lisieux because of all of this. She lost her mother at a very young age. She knew her vocation early on as well (though I'm quite sure that my vocation is to be a wife and mother, and not a religious sister). I'm sure there is a lot I can learn from her. This feeling has been building, slowly, over the last couple of weeks. I really need to get my hands on her autobiography. The only book I have on her (which isn't her autobiography) is only a few pages long and is in Spanish. I grew up speaking, reading, and writing Spanish but I've always felt more comfortable doing these things in English. Too bad my school textbooks are costing an arm and a leg, or else I would get myself her autobiography right now. Hmm...

Well, to wrap up this blog, I will say that it looks like I'm going to be undecided for a long time. If at least one of you guys can please help me pray... that I get some sort of clue as to what to do, I'd greatly appreciate it. I might take some time away from the computer, after my London research (which I am doing from home instead of directly from/at London as planned; again, I can't go anywhere. :(), just to do some heavy praying and meditating. I think I'll ask St. Elizabeth Ann Seton, or St. Bridget of Sweden to help mom out (they are two of the many patronesses of widows). Actually... I just realized something VERY weird. A couple of months ago I had a dream that my big brother Moises (who died as an infant) showed me a holy card of St. Catherine of Sweden and told me it was meant for mom... St. Catherine of Sweden was the daughter of St. Bridget of Sweden, who is the patroness of widows. Wow. What a weird coincidence... I'll try finding a prayer card of St. Bridget for mom...

Alright, I think that's enough for now. I think I might go to the San Fernando Mission for a little while (perk of living not too far from it) and see if that doesn't help me with this little anxious feeling I've had all week. No full blown panic attacks yet (thank you, St. Dymphna!). Oh, and btw, I HAVE been working on blogs, one of which has been in draft form on here (not yet published), for a couple of days. That one is taking a bit of research. :D More will come before I go back to school. I hope everyone is doing well and is having a good end of summer.

As always, thanks for reading and God Bless. :D