On September 4, my Dad left his dying father's bedside to race to Maryland. He (and my Mom) where there the infamous day of September 5, when Baby Tess went from "fine" to needing an emergency baptism and a transfer to Children's Hospital. My parents were there to witness the baptism and drive home their completely exhausted daughter from downtown D.C. They even got a hotel room across the street from my apartment, so they could watch over Jon and I.
Then in the morning, before we even left to see Miss Tess, my father organized my life for the next month. He rented me a car so we could get to the hospital easily (we were poor Carmelites who relied on the bus at the time). He took my three older children to his house for two weeks, so we could live in the NICU. He even handed me cash so that Jon and I could easily get meals in the hospital cafeteria.
All that happened and it was a gift. My Mom was her normal self during Tessy's home-coming. But my father "got it." There are expressions in his face when he held his totally held granddaughter that I'd never seen before.
All that is so precious to me.
Somehow slathered on top are these maddening photos I received in my in-box this morning. My aunt and my uncle celebrated the anniversary of my Grandfather's passing by going to a lake on Sunday and throwing pine cones into the water.
Throwing pine cones into the water???????
There is this piece of me that is screaming--who are you baby boomers??? GO TO CHURCH! It's Sunday. Say a prayer. Sing a hymn. Remember your father in a place that makes sense both to Him and to God!
Grandpa would have gone to church!!!
Pine cones in the water? The guy didn't even fish!
The whole world needs prayer. Most American Baby Boomers seem to need it double! I'm off to go make my contribution to the improvement of society by enduring my morning sickness bravely today. Hope everyone had a happy and restful Labor Day.