I have started and restarted and walked away from so many blog posts this week. It seems as if the words in my head are not quite making it out onto screen for whatever reason.
We have had a busy week, not all together surprising, really. It’s funny that you know it’s coming and it’s still difficult to prepare completely, at least mentally, for the hustle and bustle. Added to the insanity of dentists appointments and OT visits and all the extra curricular activity that we somehow managed to sign up for, we received news that dh’s aunt was nearing the end of her battle with cancer. She was diagnosed a bit over a year ago and we’ve gotten updates from her, her husband or her siblings as they warranted. We hoped to see her at Zita’s confirmation, but with the Flu going around (in our home) I didn’t want to expose her to that, then it was Anakin’s first communion and she was just too weak. We’ve made attempts at connecting with her throughout the year but she was often out-of-state or too sick to have company. We’ve prayed for her, thought about her and hoped for her but it seems as if God feels she would be a more effective servant with Him, in heaven, so her body prepares.
So. We wait. Quietly, prayerfully, solemnly we wait. My love has gone to visit her and send our prayers and love to her. He’s held her skeletal hand and kissed her worn forehead and promised prayers and prayed for peace. Then, he came home. And, again, we wait. I’ve decided it’s not unlike giving birth, this dying thing. A different focus, certainly, but not all together different. The waiting is the same. Not knowing the hour or the moment, just waiting, praying and preparing. There is a hope that those that are wanted there will make it in time and prayers that it will go peacefully and painlessly. There is a promise of something beautiful and sweet on the other side of the inevitable suffering and a hope for the future that seems to go hand in hand with both. There is a promise of salvation that either event will bring to a believer. A knowledge that humanity isn’t all that different, one from another, and that we all share the same beginning and pray for the same end.
The suffering that such a horrible disease will bring is sometimes terrifyingly unbearable, and the loss of yet another loved one looming in the very near future makes it quite an unnerving task, just to answer the phone. Our days are filled with short prayers to St. Joseph for a happy death for our loved aunt and offerings of little suffering to hopefully help ease her pain. And we wait. We go about our lives, cooking, cleaning, singing, dancing, crying, playing, shouting, schooling, being. Praying. Waiting.
O Glorious St. Joseph, behold I choose thee today for my special
patron in life and at the hour of my death. Preserve and increase
in me the spirit of prayer and fervor in the service of God.
Remove far from me every kind of sin; obtain for me that my
death may not come upon me unawares, but that I may have
time to confess my sins sacramentally and to bewail them
with a most perfect understanding and a most sincere and
perfect contrition, in order that I may breathe forth my soul
into the hands of Jesus and Mary. Amen