Easter Sunday

April 4, 2010 by  
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April 4th, 2010. Easter Sunday. The last time Easter was on April 4th was 1999. A moment of time filled with precious memories…

When I was a toddler I was baptised Catholic along with my sister. Our father was Catholic, our mother Methodist. We were raised in the Methodist Church yet in my mid-20′s I made the decision to convert to Catholicism. When I first met my husband we talked about our faith. As a young boy his family didn’t go to church. In spite of this, his faith grew and he attended the Baptist Church with his friends. Before we married I knew I would be setting aside my dream, of being a family that shared one faith. Yet I loved him deeply. We would become a family that shared our spirituality.

Years passed. Every September, classes would be offered for those interested in joining the Church. I would bring information home for my husband. Nothing ever came of it. Then one year he shocked me. He had already signed up to attend. There were no promises about converting. I completely understood. This was a decision that only he could make. For six months there were weekly classes, then a retreat. It was there, the Saturday before Palm Sunday, he would make his decision. I still remember that evening when he came home. Sit down, we need to talk he says. That next week he not only wanted to become Catholic, he wanted for us to get married in the Church. I was beyond shocked. Asking him exactly when did he think we should get married, I wasn’t prepared for his answer. ”Well I become Catholic next weekend and I think we should get married right after that on Easter Sunday.”

So we did. I stood beside him at the Easter Vigil as he completed his journey to become Catholic. Easter Sunday, April 4, 1999 surrounded by family and friends, we were married, and blessed by the priest who had walked with him as he searched his faith. My dream had come true. Now I would have my husband join my daughter, walking in front of me to receive Communion. We would be a family, now sharing one faith.

Less than ten years later, again we were surrounded by family and friends. The same priest who blessed my husband as he became Catholic and blessed our marriage, would now preside over his funeral Mass and bless his ashes. Emotions swirled. Time stopped. Life became surreal.

Attending Mass is so different now without my husband sitting next to me. I pray to him for strength. I pray for him Eternal Life.

Peace be with you.

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My Husband’s Birthday

March 4, 2010 by  
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Today is my husband’s birthday. Celebrating this day was always a special event. His personality was such I called him “my baby boy” as he never grew too old to have silly fun. One year I surprised him with horseback riding on the Buffalo River. Down a dirt road in Yellville, Arkansas, we celebrated at this small B&B surrounded by nature. One year with our eyes filled with tears, we celebrated life attending the funeral of a young lady very dear to our heart, the daughter of a life-long friend.

His birthday in 2008 was another celebration with tears. The day before, after three emotional weeks in the hospital, I had brought him home. After a quintuple bypass in January, his heart was getting weaker. His cardiologist had called in a specialist from the transplant center, which the nurses referred to as the heart failure clinic. His favorite nurse hugged him goodbye saying “If anyone deserves a new one, you do.”

Never did I imagine that would be his last birthday on earth. Last year I celebrated his birthday with him, and yet without him. His ashes at home, are inside a beautiful hand carved wooded box. Two crucifixes lay on top, gifts from the priest who married us and presided over his Funeral Mass.

And now 2010. I feel like a wreck. I feel more devastated than last year. I don’t choose to be sad. I don’t want to be sad. I pray that his strength will help me better accept my life without him here.

Celebrate Love and Life. Powerful words I am trying so hard to embraced with passion.

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