WE MADE IT.

WE MADE IT.

We did it, we did it. This week was hard. My great-uncle Michael passed away up in Pensacola, so my parents are traveling, and the mood was low, the schedule even tighter. Max, who used to really struggle with the concept of death (very similar to me at his age) found comfort quickly in his faith and offered it to my mom. After digesting the news, he took a deep breath and smiled, and said, ‘He’s actually lucky. He got to meet Jesus yesterday! And he’s not in pain anymore.’

That soothed my mom and I’m sure she’ll use that line to console her mother (it was her brother). We stayed back to attend to the 5011 deliverables for his 4th grade class- he got a 95% on his language arts test today (!!!!) and completed that entire daunting list I shared earlier this week. Somehow, we made it. And so we did our favorite thing.

We walked. And talked. Together. Fall arrived immediately, so the beach wasn’t balmy; it was pleasant, a little windy, and the sunset was stunning. We hadn’t even made it to our favorite ice cream stand when I saw a woman with gorgeous white curls. I told her how beautiful she was, and she started crying.

I asked her if she had just cut it and she told me no, but that it was still a whole story. She had done a Sinéad O’Connor buzz cut out of frustration a couple years back so her new look, and God-given color, is loved so much by her that me seeing it, seeing her, in her whole beauty, sent her to tears.

I met her 98-year-old dad, who was in a wheelchair nearby- Hassan. He held out his hand, and I knelt down. He was holding the hand my Rosary was balled up in… the one I just replaced the last Rosary I gave away at church. The new one that came from France, intentionally used, prayed on, genuine sterling silver, from the 1920s, with ruby red faceted crystal beads. Sturdy. Beautiful. A $100 Rosary- to entice me to pray it haha. I don’t usually do that. I go for wood and string!

Hassan held my hand for so long, blessed me for so long, that when I finally stood up, our hands still intertwined (I wasn’t going to let go until he did), I released the Rosary into his. I could feel that it was always his. I could feel that he needed a hand to hold on to. Now he’s holding Mother Mary’s hand.

“In times of darkness, holding the Rosary is like holding your Blessed Mother’s hand.“-Saint Padre Pio

His daughter had gone to the restroom, so she didn’t know. When I saw her again before we all went our separate ways, I told her of the gift in his hand, and we embraced again. She then turned to Max and Gia with wisdom, telling them never to bow to the world, and to embrace their own unique abilities and beauty. I heard her loud and clear. But I also heard her first words back to me after I complimented her hair. She assumed I was in my late 20s and Gia was my sister. Even IF she was flattering me, I’m absolutely still tempted to re-sub to my henna delivery. Oh, the hu-vanity! Can’t win ’em all.

I’ll keep listening. In the meantime, I am again in need of a new Rosary haha. Let’s see how long I can keep the next one! Went 3 days with this one!

I Love you,

nik

P.S. Starting a new Rosary Challenge! Pray with us in the morning!