, Ok reader...you've been beyond patient.
So I need to self-disclose. And this is really hard for me, and maybe it doesn't matter because who reads this anyway, but before we get into the final segment of the Marian Pilgrimage of 2016 (and a little promo for MP2019), I need to tell you this.
In September, my husband moved out. Tomorrow marks the 2 month anniversary of his leaving. I have a lot of feelings about this...mostly grief and some anger. I've cried, yelled, numbed out, shut down, and haven't slept consistently. I've lost track of time by throwing myself into work and avoiding anything resembling an emotion.
Now, I'm not telling you all this, gentle reader, so as to elicit a comment or a private message or a text or phone call...thank you, those are all lovely and beautiful and kind gestures and signs of love. And I love you for it. <3 But rather, I'm telling you this because I haven't given Mary much thought lately. In fact, I've been pretty faithless in general. Please don't ask me where God is in all this, or where Our Lady is...the truth is I know, on an intellectual level, that of course I'm not alone in the universe, or in my grief and anger. But on a visceral level...it's been pretty damn quiet in the spiritual realm.
And then Viviane texted me today to check in. We do this...when one hasn't heard from the other in 10 days or so, we text and check in. And sometimes we have time for big sessions, and sometimes, like today, the only response I could muster was "I'm tired. I'm going to eat lunch and crawl under the covers." And she responds, "I love you. And Mary loves you too. Don't forget." Damn it Viviane! Of course you love me and of course Mary does too...but I had forgotten.
Now let's be clear, Mary is Our Lady of Sorrows. But those are BIG TIME sorrows...not little ones. Right?! Like, she's not Our Lady of Anna's Sorrows...
But here's the thing. She's OUR Lady of Sorrow. The BIG TIME ones and the little ones (ok, maybe not the grief of your favorite shower gel getting retired...I'm still grieving Lemongrass Sage...) but the heartaches, the disappointments, the unmet expectations...all the sorrows that those life experiences produce, SHE shows up for those too. Even when it doesn't feel like it. So tomorrow I'm going to throw on my OLG socks (because she is our liberator and my spiritual mother) and start another day.
But tonight...we have part three to conclude so that we can talk about other experiences of Our Lady (because yes, there is more to life than just the basilica...although what that is I'm not sure).
Ok, so after our merry band of pilgrims left the sacristy and the legendary Monseigneur Diego, our wonderful guide, Angelita invited me to walk up the stairs with her to the original apparition chapel. On our ascent up the old stone staircase, Angelita told me of old women and men who have traveled up these stairs on their knees. I couldn't imagine it. I was having a hard enough time on my feet...let alone my knees. But I could appreciate the devotion of the pilgrims who approached in that way; it was not a devotion that I could fully understand...yet. Angelita said that she wanted to walk the stairs because she wanted to see the Carmelite nuns and buy pecans from them. So up we went.
When we arrived at the top of Tepeyac Hill a significantly smaller church than the basilica was awaiting us. Inside, the sanctuary was low lit. The frescoes recounting the apparitions and the revealing of the tilma were behind glass, but the colors were bright and the facial reactions were visible...surprise, wonder, joy...it was all there.
After a few beautiful moments in the chapel, Angelita led me outside the building and to this little narrow door in the wall. This was the entrance to the Carmelite convent; these women are cloistered, so they don't go outside. Up a similarly narrow staircase, Angelita and I went up to the living quarters. There I sat with a young nun who had recently joined, while Angelita talked privately with one of the sisters. There we were...two very different women from different worlds really, attempting to communicate through a wrought iron fence. She spoke no English, I speak very little Spanish.
So we were able to figure out that she was very young (under 30...I want to say 25 maybe younger) and we both had birthdays in May. Through the wrought iron bars, she passed me a drink in a small orange-juice glass. It was a dark purpley-pink color...really quite beautiful to look at. And the taste! Magnificent! It was Hibiscus flower--Jamacia--and I fell in love with it! Please, drink it every time you can!
After some further attempts at communication, the young Carmelite nun and I said our goodbyes.
She inspired me that day...and today...when I have to be reminded that Our Lady loves me. Our Lady knows our worries, our fears, our joys and our sorrows. She was one of us...real...and yet more. And I believe, that "more" is why I keep looking for her, and why others are looking for her as well.
So I need to self-disclose. And this is really hard for me, and maybe it doesn't matter because who reads this anyway, but before we get into the final segment of the Marian Pilgrimage of 2016 (and a little promo for MP2019), I need to tell you this.
In September, my husband moved out. Tomorrow marks the 2 month anniversary of his leaving. I have a lot of feelings about this...mostly grief and some anger. I've cried, yelled, numbed out, shut down, and haven't slept consistently. I've lost track of time by throwing myself into work and avoiding anything resembling an emotion.
Now, I'm not telling you all this, gentle reader, so as to elicit a comment or a private message or a text or phone call...thank you, those are all lovely and beautiful and kind gestures and signs of love. And I love you for it. <3 But rather, I'm telling you this because I haven't given Mary much thought lately. In fact, I've been pretty faithless in general. Please don't ask me where God is in all this, or where Our Lady is...the truth is I know, on an intellectual level, that of course I'm not alone in the universe, or in my grief and anger. But on a visceral level...it's been pretty damn quiet in the spiritual realm.
And then Viviane texted me today to check in. We do this...when one hasn't heard from the other in 10 days or so, we text and check in. And sometimes we have time for big sessions, and sometimes, like today, the only response I could muster was "I'm tired. I'm going to eat lunch and crawl under the covers." And she responds, "I love you. And Mary loves you too. Don't forget." Damn it Viviane! Of course you love me and of course Mary does too...but I had forgotten.
Now let's be clear, Mary is Our Lady of Sorrows. But those are BIG TIME sorrows...not little ones. Right?! Like, she's not Our Lady of Anna's Sorrows...
But here's the thing. She's OUR Lady of Sorrow. The BIG TIME ones and the little ones (ok, maybe not the grief of your favorite shower gel getting retired...I'm still grieving Lemongrass Sage...) but the heartaches, the disappointments, the unmet expectations...all the sorrows that those life experiences produce, SHE shows up for those too. Even when it doesn't feel like it. So tomorrow I'm going to throw on my OLG socks (because she is our liberator and my spiritual mother) and start another day.
But tonight...we have part three to conclude so that we can talk about other experiences of Our Lady (because yes, there is more to life than just the basilica...although what that is I'm not sure).
Ok, so after our merry band of pilgrims left the sacristy and the legendary Monseigneur Diego, our wonderful guide, Angelita invited me to walk up the stairs with her to the original apparition chapel. On our ascent up the old stone staircase, Angelita told me of old women and men who have traveled up these stairs on their knees. I couldn't imagine it. I was having a hard enough time on my feet...let alone my knees. But I could appreciate the devotion of the pilgrims who approached in that way; it was not a devotion that I could fully understand...yet. Angelita said that she wanted to walk the stairs because she wanted to see the Carmelite nuns and buy pecans from them. So up we went.
When we arrived at the top of Tepeyac Hill a significantly smaller church than the basilica was awaiting us. Inside, the sanctuary was low lit. The frescoes recounting the apparitions and the revealing of the tilma were behind glass, but the colors were bright and the facial reactions were visible...surprise, wonder, joy...it was all there.
After a few beautiful moments in the chapel, Angelita led me outside the building and to this little narrow door in the wall. This was the entrance to the Carmelite convent; these women are cloistered, so they don't go outside. Up a similarly narrow staircase, Angelita and I went up to the living quarters. There I sat with a young nun who had recently joined, while Angelita talked privately with one of the sisters. There we were...two very different women from different worlds really, attempting to communicate through a wrought iron fence. She spoke no English, I speak very little Spanish.
So we were able to figure out that she was very young (under 30...I want to say 25 maybe younger) and we both had birthdays in May. Through the wrought iron bars, she passed me a drink in a small orange-juice glass. It was a dark purpley-pink color...really quite beautiful to look at. And the taste! Magnificent! It was Hibiscus flower--Jamacia--and I fell in love with it! Please, drink it every time you can!
After some further attempts at communication, the young Carmelite nun and I said our goodbyes.
She inspired me that day...and today...when I have to be reminded that Our Lady loves me. Our Lady knows our worries, our fears, our joys and our sorrows. She was one of us...real...and yet more. And I believe, that "more" is why I keep looking for her, and why others are looking for her as well.