Sofa Afternoon
And another St. Patrick’s Day is upon us?
I am having a sofa afternoon.
We were all up early and out to Mass this morning, because the Mass intention was for my brother, gone almost three months now. My sister met us there, and we even managed to arrange for the priest to bring my Dad communion. He can’t walk all the way down to receive. On Sundays, the ushers take such good care of him, making sure he receives. But alas no ushers on a Saturday.
Afterwards my sister and I caught up with a neighbor who was there with her husband. We’ve known her since we were children. Her oldest was a classmate of my brother’s, and one of my childhood playmates. We traded mostly sorrows and promised each other prayers. “God has a plan, but I don’t like it,” she said as we said our goodbyes.
We stopped for bagels and found the place had been condemned after a fire. Detour to another bagel place, and home we went to visit with my sister over coffee and those awesome bagels. Normally when she comes we do something, like clean out a closet or hunt for jewelry or something. But today we just had a nice visit.
I had grand plans to get some work done this afternoon. I have three tax returns to get done. But I just planted myself on the sofa, and here I am. After dinner I will bake an Irish soda bread. Tomorrow we will stop at the cemetery after Mass to visit my Mom’s niche, decorated for the Irish High Holy Day by my sister, while we were getting the bagels.
Sometimes you just need a rest. Life has settled into a rhythm. Things are okay — good, even. As good as to be expected when you lose family members. Since January, 2022 I’ve lost an uncle, aunt (and godmother), brother-in-law, mother, and brother. In that order. God does have a plan, and I just need to do the next thing.
May the road rise to meet you,
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
The rains fall soft upon your fields.
And until we meet again,
May God hold you in the palm of his hand.
And may you be in Heaven a half-hour before the devil knows you’re dead.
