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What I did this summer 2026

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The leaves are falling from the trees – from heat stress here in Central Texas. The grass os brown and crunchy under my feet. However, in my college town, the students are back flowing in to my parish past the fill line each Sunday, driving like maniacs in the increased traffic, studying in every coffee shop, and crowding the bars on the weekends. So this counts as fall around here in spite of the weather. Living with a child marks the transition as well, long before the heat lets up. My granddaughter has started fifth grade, my grandsons have started second and fourth grades, and the baby has started walking.

Thinking back on the summer of 2026, I think it was the summer of broken down cars. My daughters and I have all had excessive car trouble this summer.

It was also a summer of much reading. I tend to go through a book every 4-5 days. This is when Kindle Unlimited comes in handy with a number of free digital books. I love actual books too. In fact I finally have my Little Free Library up and running. I’ve been so excited about that. It’s something I have always wanted to do! The books haven’t been moving too fast but I hope that will change as more people notice it. If you have any ideas about books to put in it, or any advice, let me know in the comments.

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I started a Christian Base Community at my house. We have had two meetings so far. And itā€™s just four or five people. Itā€™s been good. We pray Lectio Divina with the Gospel from the closest Sunday, share about it, eat snacks. We talk about how we will follow up on our insights we received in prayer. So far we have been doing triage dealing with everyoneā€™s exhaustion about the cruelty we have been seeing in our country right now. However we will move into identifying problems in our community and making plans to do something about them.

I watered my garden every day to try to help everything survive the heat. The basil did well and got so big and fluffy! I left the flowers on the plants so the bees could enjoy them, which they really seemed to. My roses bloomed a bit but by evening they looked like crinkled paper. I left water out for my chickens, cats, the birds. and squirrels and anything else that needed it.

One of my chickens, Cleo, almost had a heat stroke so we brought her in and put her feet in the sink with some water and ice until she felt better. Now we bring her in and put her in a dog crate during the hottest part of the day. The others do OK.

A crazy good thing happened to me this summer. Out of the blue I found out my book Meeting the One Who Loves You; the way of prayer of St. Teresa of Avila, won first place in the category of adult prayer and devotionals from the Catholic Media Association. I even beat out a Dominican priest! Don’t worry he still got second place for his in-depth Stations of the Cross. I had no idea I was in the running. I thought my latest book wasn’t selling that well. What do you know? Some people liked it! That was exciting and my former editor and another friend at Our Sunday Visitor told me it was a big deal. So yay!

I started cooking vegetarian for my dog this summer. I looked stuff up and figured out what to feed him. I’m vegan but I figured I would start with vegetarian for him and see how he did. His coat got shinier and softer, his energy has been up. He has not scratched as much. So success so far!

Here is my current recipe for him. He is a big dog (76 pounds) so this is one day’s food for my big boy.

Joey Francis Tribiani Chapman’s Vegetarian Dog Food

Ingredients

one cup brown rice

one cup lentils

1 cup plain yogurt or cottage cheese

a handful of ground flax seed

one cup full of chopped vegetables

a scrambled egg or two

To do

cook the lentils, rice and ground flax seed together in about 5 1/2 cups of water

(I use my instant pot for this on the bean setting)

steam the vegetables (if they are frozen you can just throw them in while the beans and rice are still hot)

stir in the yogurt or cottage cheese

scramble the egg or hard boil it

stir in the vegetables and the egg

When everything is cooked and mixed together, let the food cool off before you give it to your dog.

*Please note that dogs cannot have onions, garlic or apple cores.

One daughter is almost finished with her master’s in criminal justice. She plays around town as a singer songwriter and also in a band called The Fragments. My other girl got into flight school and already started flying. Her instructor says she will make an excellent pilot.

One of the guys I take care of as a caregiver, Mac, became very ill at the beginning of the summer. He stayed sick for such a long time, ended up in the E.R., and had a nine day hospital stay. He was still extremely ill when he got home. His parents and I had lots of extra care to do and we were all still really scared. We almost lost him. Recently he got sick again but he didn’t worsen into pneumonia it just took a long time and hard work to see him well again. Mac is so resilient.

My other guy, Sean, who is just 14, had a decent summer I think. He was out of school but he still went to his autism clinic every day. That’s where I pick him up in the late afternoon. It was too hot to go to the park or anything so sometimes we explored buildings we had never been in, and we got a snowcone every Monday because Mondays are hard. (sugar free cherry for him, lime with chili salt for me).

I started making little videos of prayer breaks this summer. I was surprised how many plays they get. I only put them on my Come to Mary’s House Facebook Page which most people don’t know about. But they get about 300 plays apiece. Funny. So I will keep doing it as long as I can. I just take little prayer breaks usually between my jobs, so I thought of sharing those.

I had the funnest day ever with my friend Mark. We went to Houston and went to our favorite coffee shops and bookstores. We ran all over the downtown, I forget how many thousands of steps he said we took. We went to the Museum of Fine art to see their Frida Kahlo exhibit. Then we went to my favorite, The Menil, and to Mark’s favorite, the Rothko Chapel. We ate at a little dive Mexican vegan restaurant, and at The Hobbit too. The big deal was a concert in honor of John Coltrane by virtuoso jazz artists from around the world. Oh it was amazing. I really felt like Coltranes’ spirit was in that place. What an experience!

I continued to volunteer with Sweet Oak Collaborative’s emergency food pantry. We have a guy who in his retirement makes vats of homemade food, boxes up meals and freezes them. He donates them to Meals on Wheels, the Boys and Girls Club, and us. A friend is donating a deep freeze which we could really use. There is a lot of need out there especially as the food banks lose federal funding and food stamps are cut for people. It’s good to be able to do something about it.

Other than tearing through one book after another, listening to audio books in the car, and Catholic Stream lecture series, listening to music, going to work and coming home, plus regular family life, and broken cars, that was my summer. My car is still down. It’s about 20 years old and my dad thinks it’s kaput. My eldest daughter has hers in the shop. Again. My youngest daughters’ car has a battery that needs to be replaced but that is difficult because of the way her engine is built (why did they make it like that). At least it runs and I am driving it too so I can get to work. Car shopping is in my near future. Wish me luck.

My eldest daughter comes over for coffee with me with the baby after she drops the boys off at school. My other daughter and my granddaughter live with me. I’m so lucky. I love them all. They’re all such unique, hilarious and wonderful people. I enjoyed my time with them this summer very much.

My Hippie Sisters pulled off some great dinner parties this summer as well. Nobody does it better.

I got to know my newly married godson better. We talked for four hours and ended up on the coffee shop steps after it closed. That was fun. He grew up to be so cool. šŸ™‚

I also saw the son of a dear family friend who grew up playing with my youngest daughter ordained a priest in Austin this summer. That was beautiful.

Summer is still my favorite season but I don’t handle the heat as well as I used to.

Now I’ll try to get in the mood for the fall that hasn’t actually started yet.

Texas sunsets in late September are especially glorious. I’m looking forward to that. And maybe to getting some new roses from the Antique Rose Emporium. Fall is the best time to plant them. I want them to be as profuse as possible around my house! I like them wild and tangled and hanging from the trees like a fairy land. That’s what I’m going for.

Happy fall, y’all.

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* Here are some things I read this summer. If you have any book recommendations for me let me know in the comments.

The Adventures of Amina Al-Sarafi by Shannon Chakraborthy. I was happy it was a trilogy.

Bat Eater and other Names for Cora Zheng by Kylie Lee Baker

Finding Francis, Following Christ by Michael H. Crosby

Remarkably Bright Creatures by Shelby Van Pelt.

The Star of Calcutta by Sujatta Massey

The Tears of Things by Richard Rorh

The Poet Empress by Shen Tao

The Poppy Wars by R.F. Kuang (a trilogy))

Katabasis by R.F. Kuang

Babel by R.F. Kuang

All six books of the Hawthorn and Horrowitz series. By Anthony Horowitz

House of Silk by Anthony Horowitz

Bunny and its sequel We Love You Bunny by Mona Awad.

The Pillow Book by Sei Shonagon

The River Has Roots by Amal El Mother (so beautiful it’s practically poetry).

The Once and Future Queen by Paula Lafferty

Green Teeth by Molly O’Neil

The Poetry of St. John of the Cross translated by Willis Barnstone

How to Clean Everything by Ann Russell (I didn’t clean much though).

Homebody by Rupi Kaur (poetry)

Children of Blood and Bone by Tomi Adeyemi ( an intense trilogy)

I also re-read a bunch of Agatha Christies and other favorite books when I ran out of stuff or one of these other books wrung me out and I needed comfort reading.

I’m currently listening to The Intrigue by Sylvia Moreno Garcia on audiobook

reading Diavola by Jennifer Thorn

and Bad Mexicans; Race, Empire and Revolution in the Borderlands by Kelly Lytle Hernandez

Listening to a course on Catholic Stream about Midieval Christianity and just finished one about the great spiritual families in the history of the Church (about the spiritualities of the different major religious orders from the Desert Fathers to the Vincentians). Recommendations welcome if you listen to Catholic Stream too- I have it on Apple podcasts)

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Prayer to Maria Infantita

“Little Mary, let me come close to you.

Receive me at your little feet.

Let me love you with the tenderness of a child.

Let me rest here for a while, near you.”

And now silence.

Just be with her. Look at little Mary. She belongs wholly to God.

Ask her,

“Maria Infantita, teach me

your recollection.

Free my heart

fFrom whatever draws me away from God.

Teach me to be quiet within.

Let me turn from the noise of earthly things

and attend to the beauty of God.

Little Mary,

I give you my work, my joys, my sorrows,

my thoughts and desires.

Teach me to do everything for God.

Teach me to be little.

Teach me to be recollected.

Teach me to say yes.

And when I forget,

Draw me back to you.”

Little Mary, pray for me.

After praying, do something for someone,

especially for someone in poverty.

Little Mary doesn’t just leave you feeling spiritually renewed.

She sends you out with a loaf of bread.

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The ideas above are primarily from the 1843-1848 Mexican devotions to Maria Infantita

Today, September 8, is Our Lady’s birthday. In the old devotional texts it was suggested to give alms to the poor on the 8TH of every month, and to pray to Maria Infantita every hour.

“At this hour I renew my loving consecration to you, Maria Infatita.

Look upon me with mercy, protect me,

and teach me to imitate your holy virtues.”

If you think about it, this is like a “Marian Little Way” of spiritual childhood.

Newborn olive-skinned Jewish baby with lark
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A child’s perspective on Martha and Mary

When my eldest daughter, Maire, was about four years old, my husband and I thought to make the Sunday Gospel more understandable for her, we would start doing little skits with her at home after mass. The most memorable of these was a Sunday when the Gospel story was about Martha and Mary, (Luke 10:38-42).

My husband, Marc, played Jesus, I played Martha, and Maire played Mary. I went to the kitchen and started banging pots and pans around in an angry way. Marc sat down and started talking to Maire, sitting at his feet, about being nice to everyone, and sharing your toys. I came stomping into the room demanding that Jesus tell my sister to help me with the serving. Marc stood up and said soothingly, “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and concerned about many things, but Mary has chosen the better part and it won’t be taken from her.”

I’ve never wanted the story to end there and apparently neither did Maire. She said we weren’t finished yet, so we went back to our places. My husband said, “So Mary, we need to love everyone.” My child got up, came into the kitchen, and took my hand. “It’s OK, Martha! We can trade.” She led me back to Marc, and had me sit down. And she went to the kitchen and started rattling dishes and puts and pans.

My husband and I looked at each other with wonder.

I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children

Matthew 11:25
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Flowers of Gratitude

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Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is Godā€™s will for you in Christ Jesus.ā€Ā 

I Thessalonians %:16-18

I was going through a difficult time when I was nineteen. My best friend had just died a couple of months before and I had no spiritual foundation for dealing with that. Not only that but my family was going through a difficult time as well.  All of this was made more difficult by the fact that I was not any good at processing emotions or dealing with things in helpful ways. I was trying to change that but I was  still learning. I called a mentor of mine crying, not sure what to do about feeling so bad.  She said to go for a walk and think of five things I was grateful for. I didnā€™t understand but I was a mess so I did as she asked. I donā€™t remember what I was grateful for in the end. I mostly remember that being grateful for the smallest things and keeping them in mind as I walked lifted the dark heavy cloak I felt like I was wearing by at least a few pounds.

In the many years since that time I have learned that gratitude helps not only in dark times, but even in the midst of the very darkest of times. Not only that but it seems to fix a lot of problems. It may be that gratitude helps us to accept what is. Or perhaps the slight change in perspective helps us see with more clarity and makes problems appear smaller than they did when we were freaking out, and solutions seem possible. It is a great help in relationships. Appreciating people is an important glue holding us close to one another. Itā€™s the same with God. When Jesus healed a group of ten lepers, he was shocked that only one came back to thank him (Luke 17:11-19). He appreciates our thanks. Gratitude draws us closer to the Giver.Ā 

I havenā€™t forgotten the bad things that have happened to me in life, at least not the big ones. But I have made a habit of gratitude to the point that, as I recently noticed, when I wake up I usually smile at God as soon as I am conscious. (How long has this been going on?) Generally Iā€™m not elated much. However I am content overall and I have a lot of joy in my life. Sometimes I am really worried about something and sometimes I have anxiety or I get angry or depressed. However the smile is real and at the same time habitual. I am not sure anymore which came first.

I know that when I am feeling out of sorts, uneasy or upset, that one of the best tools in my tool box is to say, ā€œOK what am I grateful for?ā€ Sometimes the things I am grateful for are only things like ā€œWell Iā€™m grateful itā€™s not worse,ā€ or ā€œIā€™m grateful for the trees,ā€ or ā€œAt least weā€™re not dead.ā€ Sometimes I laugh at myself that those things are all I can think of. But they are still good things as well as real things. Itā€™s a start. 

Fr. Brian Eilers, when I had just confessed having lost my temper with my family, said he wanted me to go out into the main church and take up my rosary. ā€œOn each bead thank God for something. Keep going until you have been all the way around the rosary.ā€ I had been upset when I had driven to the church. But by the time I finished my penance I was smiling. I had even thanked God for my family. Iā€™m so pleased to have them, mad or not! 

So if you’re upset or in a bad mood today, if you got bad news, or if you watched the news and lost your peace, go for a walk. While you are walking, think of five things you are grateful for. Tell God about these.  When you get back, write them down. Iā€™ve advised this to friends having a hard time before. I usually get a good report about how it went. This also helps if youā€™re angry with someone you love. Think of five things you are grateful for about them. I promise it helps. It can also help when youā€™re mad at God which at one time or another all of us has been. And when we are happy we should be sure to thank the good God for our joy. 

ā€œIf the only prayer you ever say in your entire life is thank you, it will be enough.ā€

Meister Ekhart

You might like to try Fr. Brianā€™s gratitude beads with your rosary.

Maybe you can imagine you are putting flowers at the altar of God in Heaven. After all, he deserves them. And he usually ends up pouring them into your lap.  He loves doing that.

Loose stemless flowers on jeans lap, POV
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Lay down your verbal arms for Lent

I would like to invite you to a very practical and frequently unappreciated form of abstinence: that of refraining from words that offend and hurt our neighbor. Let us begin by disarming our language, avoiding harsh words and rash judgement, refraining from slander and speaking ill of those who are not present and cannot defend themselves. Instead, let us strive to measure our words and cultivate kindness and respect in our families, among our friends, at work, on social media, in political debates, in the media and in Christian communities. In this way, words of hatred will give way to words of hope and peace.

Pope Leo XIV, Message for Lent 2026

The Holy Father has, in his serene and gentle way, thrown down a gauntlet with this challenge. This is a very tough form of fasting, especially now in these times of political extremes, immovable opinions, varying understandings of reality and a shocking lack of empathy or compassion. Language is too often used in flagrant attempts to dehumanize those who differ from us In this age of rage, are we contributing to the lack of peace by our words? We long for justice but do we really care about the effect our words have on others or are we just mad? How do we do better? What steps can we take to purify the violence of our speech and still speak truth when necessary?

We need some steps to get there, some tools, a frame work.

Jesus said, “out of the fullness of the heart, the mouth speaks.”
(Luke 6:45, Matthew 12:34) He said our sinful and hateful words begin in our sinful and hateful hearts. Practically speaking, this means we need to master our thoughts. When we master our thoughts, we master our words. Here is my tool box for disarmament, if you will.

On mastering our thoughts, one of the best things one can do is replace them with something else. A dear priest told me once during Confession that every time I had a hateful or judgmental thought about a certain person I was struggling with, I should mentally say, “I renounce that thought in the Name of Jesus Christ.” Guess what? It worked! That person is among my inner circle of friends and has been for many years now. She loves telling people the story.

Some years back I found myself obsessively wrapped in raging thoughts about a betrayal in my life. My rotating anger was no longer helpful. I didnā€™t need to talk about my feelings. This pre-occupation of mine became a problem with family and friends. Nobody wanted to hear it anymore. I didn’t want to hear it anymore. I wasn’t healing, just stuck. I had to stop.

I remembered that I had tools I knew worked. So I began to mentally repeat the names of Jesus and Mary whenever I had the urge to talk about it or think abut it all again. It worked! I went from thinking about the whole thing at least once every 15 minutes to hardly ever. If we don’t think about something like that, we stop talking about it all the time, as well.

Another thing I was doing at the same time as forming the habit of repeating the holy names, was spending time daily in silent interior prayer. My main way of doing this at that time was memorizing passages of the Bible, prayerfully and silently going over and over them in my mind. This is called Ruminatio, a loving meditative recitation of God’s Word in the heart, from the monastic tradition. It’s a “chewing” on the Word until it becomes sweetness in the heart. Sweetness in the heart is what we need most.

Another thing silent prayer does is slow our minds down and makes our emotions less volatile. We have time to think before we speak rather than just spark into fire whenever we are challenged. The Lord is in us and he calms the destructive storms. (Matthew 8:23ā€“27, Mark 4:35ā€“41, Luke 8:22ā€“25). The waves of our emotions calmed, we are more likely to speak wisely and less hurtfully.

Here are some helpful considerations from a modern proverb of uncertain origin.

There are three gates your words should pass through before you speak. Ask these questions of yourself:

Is what I want to say true?

Is it necessary?

Is it kind?

If what you want to say doesn’t pass through all three of these three gates, don’t say it!

What to do instead? Go for a fast walk and repeat the Holy Name of Jesus or the Jesus prayer the whole time. Don’t come back until you are calm. (The Jesus Prayer: “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner”).

Remember this is not something you are doing alone. God is with you and his grace will aid you. So ask him.

May the words of my mouth, and the thoughts of my heart, be acceptable to you, my God.”

Psalm 19:14

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Prayer and solidarity in a dark church

The church was dark and warm when I came in. I could hear sleepy children stirring in the corners, and see the shapes of people in the pews. I had missed the rosary but adoration would go on until late. The one light shone on the exposed Eucharist on the alter. I sat down in the back, then knelt to pray in the silence.

I noticed cantors were standing in a dimly lit alcove. One of them stood up and read something in Spanish that I thought was from the Gospel of John. I left off studying my Spanish this summer and I’ve already forgotten a lot but it sounded like something from that Gospel. I can’t remember what it was now. Jesus calming the waves? There were prayers. Something about children, loved ones, fear. The reader sounded not only somber but sad. They sang a Mexican hymn about walking with the Lord.

It sounds like any Adoration night in a Catholic Church. However I haven’t yet mentioned that the feeling as I came through the church doors was overwhelming sadness, an oppressive sorrow that was almost crushing. I can’t be sure that was what people there were feeling but if they were it would make sense.

This parish I was visiting is primarily Latino parish. We have had ICE here the last couple of weeks. We are not a big town. We used to be small but I suppose we’re medium now. Local TV has reported on where agents been sited, arrests they have made. Local police have made announcements telling us not to interfere with ICE. The popular news anchor has posted videos of ICE activity people have sent him. Unusually for this conservative bastion of a town, there have been school walk-outs, protests, prayer vigils, almost every day that ICE has been here.

Obviously this situation has caused stress for a lot of people. Nothing like in Minnesota. In fact I have only seen a couple of ICE agents in person, and one abandoned car with the doors open on the road.

I didn’t feel like trying to do any structural mental prayer. My mind was unusually clear and still. Making it do anything felt like introducing unnecessary clutter so I went with just sitting still, being conscious, being present.

As time went by I felt sorrow grow. Maybe it was me. Maybe it was all of us.

More prayers. I heard the phrases, “my heart,” and “your heart” several times. Another song about trusting God, I think. People came in, others left quietly, sleeping children over their shoulders. A boy came around with a box of LED votive lights. Soon there was one at the end of each pew, flickering like candles. The priest walked down the aisle checking on everyone. For me sorrow kept deepening. I began to feel an intense wreath of warmth around my heart.

Silence. More Scripture, more prayers. The trust and love they were expressing reminded me of our family’s attitude when my husband Bob had brain cancer. “Everything will be OK and even if it’s not OK it will be OK,” we used to say. In other words, “This is terrible and we have hope that it can end well. But no matter what has to happen, we will be with you, Lord, and we will always have you.”

They were live streaming the event; probably for anyone too ill to attend or too afraid to come to church or leave the house. I thought that the people in the church were probably not the ones who were especially targets. They were here to pray for everyone else. It would be likely that they are worried about someone they knew, a family member maybe.

I was likely the only white person there. I could have no idea what this community within my community was going through or what it was like to be them right now. This prayer vigil was a vigil for peace. It had been announced as a way to “put everything in God’s hands.” It struck me that the people I was sitting with likely did not have much they could do about the situation. All they had was God.

I felt such gratitude that they were letting me sit with them at the feet of Jesus even though I can’t possibly share what they were going through. I had that sense of astonishment that I was sitting among a persecuted people. Maybe some of them didn’t know what had happened to someone they loved, whether they were being tortured or starved or beaten, whether they were far away in a dangerous country, whether they would ever see that person again. It was one of those moments when I couldn’t believe this is my country.

I looked at the people around me again. “Jesus I know these are your people,” I prayed. “I will do whatever I can, whatever you ask me to do for them. Just make me able.” My eyes filled. “Thank you for letting me be with them tonight.“

After about an hour, which passed quickly, I left.

I talked to my daughter Roise about the sadness I felt. Was I right that there was sadness in the voices of the cantors and readers? Was I projecting a pleading sentiment onto them? Was it my feelings coming out?

Roise suggested that as Catholics we believe that we are the Body of Christ together. Especially in the Eucharist, we are one together, sharing everything. Maybe I was sensing their feelings or maybe I was just part of the Body of Christ feeling its pain. When one part suffers all the others do too.

We thought about it some more. “Imagine how sad Jesus is about all this.”

Neither of us had anything else to say after that.

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The subject tonight is love

My brother, Mark Manning

The subject tonight is Love
And for tomorrow night as well,
As a matter of fact,
I know of no better topic
For us to discuss
Until we all Die!

Hafiz

Itā€™s been my brother Markā€™s birthday today. He would have been 56. (1970-2015)
I was thinking about love and letting go. I actually donā€™t like the phrase ā€œletting go.ā€ To me it sounds like sending someone away, like forgetting them. I hate that.


However somebody pointed out to me this morning that loosening my grip this Christmas on our family traditions, my ability to be more open to doing something new and allowing our Christmas to unfold in the new family we are, was a letting go. The fact that I was OK today on my brother’s birthday though a little sad at times, and that I was OK not doing anything in particular in his honor necessarily, was letting go.

That sounds a little scary for me but it’s alright. I am always afraid if I don’t try hard to remember and keep everything I know about them, I will forget the people I have lost. I really fear that. I donā€™t want them to be far away from me- like childhood friends whose names I canā€™t really remember anymore. I donā€™t want to let them go.

Then I thought about how love is a living thing. Love changes and grows as the people in the relationship do. Love is not static. It isn’t only in the past. Love isnā€™t diminished by change In fact love deepens as people adjust and sacrifice in the midst of and because of it they grow together and for one another.

The love between my brother and me is a living thing. Death has changed our situation drastically. Love has had to adjust and change and grow with that. But death canā€™t take away love. And maybe that is what it means to let go; when I donā€™t need to force anything to feel connected, or struggle to wrest back any little scrap death has left behind when it raided my family and took so many people away. Maybe letting go is to be able to trust that love just is and I can let it be itself.

My dad used to say that my brother probably loved me more than anyone on the planet loved anyone. What if I can trust that he still does? He always loved me just as I was. I loved him like that too.

I love my brother as he is right now, even not quite knowing what that is like to be him right now. When I get there with him I expect to love him even more. Death can’t do anything about that.

.So faith, hope, love remain, these three; but the greatest of these is love.

1 Corinthians 13: 13

*My brother Mark Manning at 7 years old.

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My 2025 Christmas Letter: letting Christmas happen

It’s been an eventful year for us, with its triumphs and its various ups and downs, just as everyone has. My youngest, Roise, graduated college from Sam Houston State and began the graduate program she wanted where she is doing great. My eldest, Maire, just had a new baby we are all crazy about. Valor is a wide eyed baby with a lopsided smile and a face that looks more “finished” than the faces of babies usually do. My other three grandchildren, Arelani, Blaze and Brazos, have become funnier, more creative and smarter even than they used to be. Or maybe it is that I am listening better. I enjoy them very much. Arelani is into crafts, science, fixing things, and putting things together with a box of parts, a couple tools, and an instruction manual. I don’t understand that at all. She makes the most ingenious things. She makes me laugh every day.

Blaze and Brazos are into running around out in the country, climbing trees, hauling beaches for their mom, filling their pockets with rocks, that sort of thing. The boys and I have a routine of reading from the series Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing and watching The Hoof GP together. That last one I don’t understand either. But we like it. They will cuddle up to me and watch it. It’s a You Tube show from a Scottish Hoof Trimmer. There is just something fascinating about it. They are the sweetest little boys.

My dad turned 75 this year. and I turned 58. We are growing old together. He was just a kid when he had me. He and my step mom take good care of themselves and I fully expect them to live forever.

My new book, Meeting the One Who Loves you; the way of prayer of St. Teresa of Avila was released this summer. I hope it does what St. Teresa and Jesus want it to do for its readers, and gets into the hands of people who are supposed to read it. I try not to worry about how it’s doing. My last one did so well I worry my new book baby won’t get as much attention. But I only need to trust it will do what God wants it to do.

My young dog, Daisy, died suddenly this summer. We still don’t know why. I think it was a killer bee. (We saw some under our car port). The vet couldn’t save her. We all miss Daisy. Our other dog, Joey certainly misses her. However, we are recovering well. I haven’t decided whether to get another friend for Joey. He looks bored in the back yard without her.

I planted a couple of vegetable gardens- something new to me this year.

Roses I am used to and I planted more of those too. I always will plant more roses. I want this place covered in a wild, lovely tangle. I have a dying elm tree in my front yard. It’s sad. However, I planted an Old Blush climber next to it. I plan for it to wrap around it, for rose laden vines to hang down from its branches. Then it will be a rose tree. I have done that before at the house I raised my kids in and it looked like fairy land. It smelled amazing too.

We almost lost one of the young special needs guys I take care of this year. Mac got pneumonia which is very dangerous for him. Unbelievably he made it through and has even recovered far more than we thought possible for him. He is doing great. I thank God for this all the time.

I started a new second job this year too, for another young’n with special needs. I pick him up after my first job and spend the evening with him. He’s fun and I have loved getting to know his sweet family.

I have read plenty of books this year as always. I don’t know how many. But since I read a book about every 4-7 days I suppose it would make quite a stack. I’ve developed and interest in T. Kingfisher books and the like. I read one after another.

I’ve lost myself in lots of music. I found plenty of new stuff I am happy with exploring. There is still plenty of weird, interesting music out there, and people still create plenty of beauty. Of course I still love the Cocteau Twins and Dead Can Dance. And hey “King’s X forever!” I still make coffee and listen to jazz every day at 2pm. I mostly like hard bop and straight ahead jazz. And sometimes you just need Ella Fitzgerald and Billie Holiday.

Sometimes you need something fun and different.

I still have chickens, though those traitors spend most of their time at the next door neighbor’s house. They are an elderly couple and they love the chickens so it’s alright. They still come home too. I love having them around, scratching and pecking and being hilarious in the yard. They are Clementine, a crazy game hen, and Jewel, a fat brown hen. They are friends with a wild guinea in the neighborhood who lost its mate. So now it hangs out with my chickens. Its name is either Fred or Lola. I can’t tell which one the remaining one is. However it was lonely so I am glad it hangs around.

My cats are relaxed and happy. Every time I open the door, one is coming in or going out. Whatever they want to do. Presently there are three sleeping on my bed. I have three orange girls; a mother and two of her daughters. These are Annie, the mom, and Dia and Buttercup (don’t blame me my granddaughter named her Princess Buttercup). My daughter has Frankie, a temperamental black cat with beautiful green eyes.

I had a great birthday this year. I felt very loved by family and friends. Plus, I told my friends I wanted a pie in the face at my birthday dinner and they actually did it! It was so funny. I also have been wanting to start a “Little Free Library” in front of my house and my friends made it happen! On my birthday night Maire and I and the kids went to see my youngest daughter, Roise, play and sing with her band, The Fragments, over at Black Water Draw. We had a great time; great music and kids running in circles around our table, us handing the baby around, everybody happy. I love that.

I visited the major relics of St. Therese this year with my youngest daughter and my granddaughter. I have thought a lot about how I felt about that. I wrote about it too. But when I look back at it I think what comes through is how little I felt, how I could see all my wounds in a general way, and that I was seen by God and I was OK. I also felt my love for Therese and that was overpowering to me. I don’t feel a lot of big feelings these days. And I never cry even when I do feel them. That day I did both and I was kind of surprised. I’m glad too.

I also gave a talk at Little Flower Basilica in San Antonio this Advent on The Prayer of Recollection. I think it went well. I gave a handout to everyone there to take home and practice the prayer even if they didn[t have the book yet. I took them through a brief guided version of the prayer. I made my dumb jokes. šŸ™‚

As we get ready for Christmas this year, I notice I feel different than I usually do. Christmas is a mixed bag for me as it is for most people- especially for us who have lost people we loved. I’ve kind of hated Christmas. As a neuro-divergent person, the executive function that appears to be required is overwhelming for me. It’s not even a lot but it totally freaks me out. I see the lovely things other people do for their friends and neighbors. Sometimes I can do some of that stuff and sometimes I can’t. I get really scared of forgetting someone. I worry about what to get or what to do.

And there is grief that comes up of course.

It used to be very important, after losing almost everyone I always spent Christmas with except my kids, that I keep up traditions we always had when I was raising my daughters. This is the first year I have kind of let Christmas happen. I usually have my daughters and my kids over to decorate the tree and make cookies. The kids love this. But I also do Advent candle lighting and prayers, and there is a certain order of me putting the star up at the end and us singing “I want to walk as a child of the Light.” when the tree is finished. We have always listened to Dead Can Dance’s album, “Aion” when we decorate the tree.

This year I was working and when I got home everyone was here. They already had music; traditional and pop Christmas songs on. They had the boxes of decorations out from the garage. Everyone was happy. We decorated the tree randomly. Some things I always put up first, almost in a ritual manner because they were my mom’s or from my first married Christmas. I didn’t do that. I put the delicate ones up and let everyone do whatever. Brazos wanted to put the star on the tree so my daughter Maire lifted him up and let him. I quietly lit the Advent wreathe while everyone was talking. Maire smiled at me from across the table. It was good. I just let Christmas happen.

Christmas Eve I’ll make enchiladas, beans and rice as I usually do. Maire is bringing the drinks. And Christmas will happen.

I look forward to the sense of tenderness I eventually know when things quiet down after mass and the candles are blown out. That’s when I think the morning star rises in our hearts, whatever we may be feeling. It still does. Jesus is here. He comes no matter what. And we can let that happen.

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Dreaming of Our Lady of Guadalupe: A Call for Compassion

I dreamed of Our Lady of Guadalupe years ago; maybe many years ago but I still remember. I was in a church I had never been in before but in the dream it was familiar. I was praying in front of a beautiful image Our Lady of Guadalupe that seemed alive in some way. The church was fairly dark, mass not having begun. There were people scattered in the pews praying and waiting.

An old man in a middle pew started talking loudly about how there were too many (insert slur for Latinos here) in the Church and we needed to “get them all out of here.” He went on and on about this. I felt such horror that he would speak this way at all but especially in the Church. I looked back at him, then back at the image of Our Lady and noticed it was smoldering in the corner and the burnt part was spreading. I ran to the man and begged him to stop. “Please Sir, don’t speak like that! Please! Not in this holy place!”

I don’t remember anything else about that dream, though I think I may have asked the angry old man to come outside with me and talk about it there.

Given what’s going on now though I wonder if it was kind of a warning or a premonition.

Today on her Feast, as Queen of the Americas, I pray for an end to the violent hatred and rage toward her Latino children living in the U.S., and end to the hateful speech, the cruelty and disregard toward them. In this holy place, this temple of the hearts of men and women, let there be love and respect, humility and understanding.

I promise to help you, Mother Mary, to pray and intercede for your immigrant children in my country.

I associate you as Our Lady of Guadalupe with love and protection, compassion for all who weep, solidarity with the lowly, conversion of heart and reconciliation between people who were once enemies. God has entrusted the Americas to you. Mother of Tepayak, of roses given in winter snow, you choose the little ones the world disregards to speak to us all and reveal to us your sweet face, your presence, your love.

Allow us to bring you the roses of dedication and celebration. Remain with us now as evening draws near. Tell us the story of Jesus, your Son.

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