This post was originally published in 2007 on the first incarnation of this blog--no longer up. I wanted to repost some good writing from time to time just to remind myself, even in all the busy craziness, that I can do it! I also wrote this when my parents were not well, but now they have both died, so it makes this post even more poignant to me.
This post seemed especially appropriate because today's first Mass reading is from Job 1, with all the servants coming to Job and saying, "I alone have escaped to tell you." That's the title of Ralph McInerny's beautiful memoir, and I write about today here today.
Several weeks ago, I was at a gathering of moms. I made a comment about "being older" in some context which escapes me now. We all laughed about whatever the comment was, but then one mom said, laughingly, something along the lines of, "When you make a comment like that, I always think about it like you think you are some 80-year-old lady." It was a funny aside, but it gave me pause. I have noticed myself that I tend to make these "I am getting older" comments and I think my (just a bit) younger friends are a little perplexed, or think I am giving up. I've been reflecting on this lately and wondering why I do this.
When my mother was 60 years old, I was 25. I remember her saying, "I'm old," and it seemed to me at the time as a kind of giving up or a hopeless statement. And I said, "Mom, you are NOT old. You are 60--that's middle-aged!" She replied, "60 is not middle-aged. Nancy, how many 120 year-olds do you know?" That set me back a little, but I still argued with her and talked about how active she was, how much she did, how much of her life was left to live well. She agreed with all of that, but persisted in saying that it was "real" that she was old. Now I think I understand a little of what she meant by the statement. It's just an acceptance of a reality; a meditation in a way on the end of human life. What one does with this reality is the important thing.
I am officially middle-aged now. I don't really see it as a crisis or a tragedy--oh, no, no more miniskirts! (never me anyway), but as a reality that can be frustrating, funny and frightening, all in the same moment. Having a preschooler when one is over 40 and very (though happily) gray-haired in a small community where more people have grandchildren than children at this age sometimes makes me feel a bit odd. My husband and I laugh about it, but we tire of having to say, "No, they are my children, not my grandchildren." It is kind of funny to have to admit my wounded pride there. Do I really look or act that old, I think? I don't feel that I do; I stay active and love having little kids; I know I am a much better parent at this age than I would have been as a younger me (though children earlier would have been good for me in so many ways!)
There is a sense in which these comments of mine, even internal comments, are my mid-life crisis--really coming to terms with and meditating on what it means to grow older, and yes, to die. I am so much more aware of it than I was in my 20s and 30s. The physical signs are only a little bit of what I'm feeling. While it is true that I don't bounce back from injuries or late nights or overeating as I did in my "younger days," I I would say I am in better shape now than many times during my life, and I am much more careful about taking care of myself.
But at the same time, I feel a growing sense of urgency to accomplish goals before... I don't know; it's not exactly getting old, or dying.... Even though I know that decline is decades in the future, decades is not so long anymore. It is so easy to keep putting things off and putting things off until it really is too late. Time is just moving too quickly for me these days.
Also, I am much more sensitive in a number of ways to mortality, and old age, and weakness. It is not just my own, far away as that may be (or as close as it may be; the fragility of life is painfully close sometimes). Emotionally I am much more aware. Funerals affect me much more deeply than in the past; I feel more a sense of being closer to the person dying than I ever have in the past. I feel this partially because my mother is somewhere along the path to death. The idea of losing my mom, either of my parents, is just overwhelming at times. I know intellectually this is the normal scope of things, but it still feels scary.
Ralph McInerny, one of my personal heroes and author of the excellent memoir ,I Alone Have Escaped to Tell You talks about "standing on the precipice separating time and eternity" when the people he most admires begin to die. He says it much more eloquently, but I would describe it is as a fundamental vulnerability--there is no more layer of protection between me and the wide world. That sounds strange; I have been independent of my parents for many years in so many ways, and I act very grown-up, but actually being that grown-up person...wow.
And yet I can remind myself that we are all surrounded by "so great a cloud of witnesses" in the communion of saints. There is a layer there; we are all connected; perhaps this is God's way of helping me understand some of these theological concepts in a real way.
So I tend to comment on my age a bit lately, and I will continue to comment on my age. For me, it is not an excuse, or a complaint, or a giving up. It is a continuing meditation about what it means to grow older, to have life and have it abundantly, at the same time to always keep in mind the last things. It is not because I feel like an 80-year-old, I promise you, even if I do complain about the aches and pains and grandmother comments. I am just standing on the precipice of time and eternity, trying to embrace the view.
Monday, September 27, 2010
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Mother-Daughter Book Group: The Shadow of the Bear thoughts and discussion notes
The Shadow of the Bear by Regina Doman is the first of the (currently, five) Fairy Tale Series of Novels by Regina Doman. Shadow is a retelling of Snow White and Rose Red by the Brothers Grimm. Each chapter begins with a quote from the original fairy tale, and the events of the chapter relate to each.
Some important points: even though the novel takes place in “reality” (relatively recent NYC), it has fairy tale elements that make it not strictly “realistic.” Some of the specifics (young people trying to solve mysteries on their own, people getting out of dangerous situations improbably) are more in the fairy tale mode than realistic mode.
We need to be clear here, both in our reading and in our discussions, about what plot elements are meant to be an interesting, page-turning part of the story, and what could be edifying or useful to us in our lives.
We’re not meant to think through how we would handle the situation if a group of surly teenagers kidnap us, or how to foil an evil treasure-crazed man in an abandoned church, because those events from The Shadow of the Bear are not likely to happen to us.
But we can take away a number of points about how to behave from, for instance, what Rose does right (and what she could have done differently) on prom night, because while we won’t be in the specific situation described, situations like it are very likely to come up during one’s high school and college years.
Also, we’re not meant to emulate the specific actions of the characters (trying to solve capital crimes on our own, putting ourselves and others in dangerous situations), but rather learn from their virtues (thought they are not perfect) and their ability to view situations in the light of their Catholic faith. Most of all, we’re also meant to enjoy this fantastically written and engaging story as the great story just as it is!
Here’s a link from author Regina Doman’s website, of pages on The Shadow of the Bear.
Following are the Catechism connections we will make/discuss with this book at the Mother-Daughter Book Group. Please bring your Catechism with you, but if you want to look these up online, I love this searchable Catechism of the Catholic Church.
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Chapter 1:, p. 30: Mrs. Brier: “After all, we were sheltering the stranger and tending the sick, weren’t we? That wasn’t wrong no matter what may happen from hereafter.”
CCC Connection: 2447, 2448
Chapter 2: Blanche overhears Mr. Freet, brother of the principal (also Mr. Freet), saying, “Art isn’t about truth, it’s about form,…That’s why the absence of a beautiful, structured form destroys music. Yes, and art, too.”
Blanche consider this and wants to discuss it with her family and Bear. Is this true? (they conclude in a later chapter that it is not true, truth and beauty are one, and that even evil that appears as beauty just steals beauty away from truth)
CCC Connection: 2500, 2501, 2502 (339)
Chapter 4: Bear takes the girls to St. Lawrence Church, a now closed church next to their high school where he was an altar boy. It is dark and a little scary, since they all know the former pastor, Fr. Raymond, was murdered there.
p.82: Bear: “Um, you know, since it is my secret place, you wouldn’t tell any of your friends that I took you there, would you?” Bear suddenly seemed a bit flustered.
“Oh, we don’t have any friends to tell,” Rose assured him. “Just Mom.”
“Oh, I don’t care if your Mother knows. She’s as solid as a brick.”
CCC Connection: 2488, 2489, 2491, 2492
Chapter 8: Rose and Blanche go shopping for a prom dress and other items as a thrift store, and Rose finds and buys two dresses, and the girls buy a few other items.
p. 110: discussion of relative modesty of dresses
CCC Connection: 2521, 2524, 2525
Chapter 11: after-prom party Rose attends; be prepared for discussion about what she did right, and what she might have done differently
CCC Connection: CCC 1806 (prudence), 1807 (justice), 1808 (fortitude), 1809 (temperance)
Chapter 14: Blanche goes to talk to old Sister Geraldine to get information about Bear, and he tells her about how he and his brother Ben converted to Catholicism with the help of Father Raymond. Fr. Raymond collected and had quite a storehouse of unused church vessels that had been in flea markets, etc.
Sister Blanche: “Most people thought he was crazy. After all, most of them weren’t worth very much. But Father believed, “holy things for the holy,’ and he kept them safe and in good condition. He wasn’t a reactionary or anything of that sort. He simply believed in showing reverence for all things connected with the Holy Mass.”
CCC Connection: CCC 948
Chapter 17 & 18: When Bear parts from Blanche to “go to his fate,’” he tells her:
"All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well" (a quote from St. Julian of Norwich, afterwards used in a poem by T.S. Eliot.) What do you think that Bear means?
CCC Connection: 313, 314
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