Tag Archives: reflection

Harder Better Faster Stronger

Tuesday mornings are always spent at my favorite cafe in town.  I drink coffee and finish homework and people watch and talk to my favorite server, Ron.

Today a woman came in with her mother.  Neither looked strikingly elderly–perhaps 50 and 70, respectively.   The daughter took great care of her mothering, putting ice in her coffee, helping her inch the spoon full of oatmeal into her mouth, and aiding her to her walker.  They conversed about simple things.  But they were together.  And despite the mother’s frailty, that is all that seemed to matter.

How difficult it must be to slowly deteriorate.  To be so strong, and then to need assistance in something so simple as the use of a spoon.  How hard it must be to experience it, as well as to watch it happen.  But there is also such great strength it requires.

It seems to happen, though, and we adapt to life as it adapts us.

Also, I know I’ve been gone from this blog for a while.  I’ve noticed, too.  Rather than try to draft why I’ve been gone, I’m going to just pick up and keep going as if I’d never left.  I hope you can keep up.


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losing one’s hair on the wedding day

I wish I could express to you how beautiful such moments are.

My my uncle, Fr. Dan, does it justice. Take a moment to listen.

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run’n on

My run took me on an unexpected route this morning.  Going past the signal tower at the far south-west corner of campus always makes me think of death.  Not my own.  Just in general.  In the fall a student mysteriously fell from the tower.  Of course, even if they did find out why he was up there in the middle of the night, the papers failed to report upon it.  Through the streets of Champaign, up 6th and in front of Newman.  I think of the girl who was hit by a car on Unofficial, the girl who went into a bus’s blind-spot, the the cafeteria worker whose body was found after he’d taken his own life.  How is it that in my four years we so easily forget these incidents?  We are sad for a while, but soon the corner is no longer adorned with flowers and pictures of their lost friend, but continues to be any other intersection.  And what is worse, I am quite positive that such things happen on a regular basis on campus, but many go unheard of.

Moments like these make me want to be anything but a mother.  A mother never forgets.  I think I grieve for these women more than the victims in each of these situations.  We are expected to raise our children and then just let them go.  No, she couldn’t have saved him had she been there.  She did all she was expected to do by simply raising him.   And now he is gone from this world.  I will never forget the cry Johnathon’s mom expelled at the memorial mass for her son.  The sound reverberated off the walls of the hollow chapel and left a deep sense of agony in my heart.

But life goes on.  We continue to live.  To run.  To study.  To work.  To raise children–hoping that they, too, will find a great life.

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