Happy Easter!
I forced myself to stay away from the computer for the Triduum and Easter. Just to give myself over to mover meditation and less blather. But it’s Easter Monday, so I’m free to blather on, right?

Part of my silence was caused by my internal snit over not being able to attend the Easter Vigil Mass. Out of the 52 Saturday nights in a year, this was the night that Embot’s future in-law’s invited us to dinner to celebrate their engagement. After an initial stab at rescheduling, I decided that I was not going to make this a battle of wills between Em and me. And as much as I wanted to be at Church on Saturday night, I figured being the only family member to not show up at the dinner would not be the sort of Christian witness I wanted to make. I doubt that I would blow everyone away with my piety.........I’d just make the loyal Catholic contingent look like rude bad eggs.

So I decided to offer up my disappointment, though I did find myself rhapsodizing to those who called the rectory for Mass times on Saturday morning. I described the Vigil Mass in more detail than asked for..........stopping just short of saying, “I’d go if I were you - I’d be there if I could....”

We had a great time. The food was great. I must take the boys to Chinatown for a little field trip. While we’re there, I’ll grab an order or mayonaise shrimp with candied walnuts. And keep the boys out of the ‘glass tree’ store. For obvious reasons.


And...pride goeth before the brief nasal hemorrhage.....
I was the lector on Holy Thursday. I did OK. Pumped full of ibuprofen, so I would not limp in the procession. One of the deacons tried to convince me to join in the recession with the rational that Jesus likes a ‘crowd.’ Not just because of the touchy hip - though that was a consideration - I took that one to the Pastor. My rational - Jesus doesn’t like a ‘burlesque.’

And my dear late mother would have been proud. Laughing at inappropriate times (especially in Church) was a specialty of mine back in my tender years. (i.e., up to the time of my marriage) I didn’t crack a smile when someone’s cell phone went off during the first reading. Playing an especially absurd tune. I didn’t smile - nor make eye contact with my family - when I read the words ‘loins girt.’ The kids think loins is funny. This may have something to do with my receiving phone calls from people looking for “E-loin.” I also bit my tongue and didn’t throw in an ad lib comment about our Flower Fairy being the person who delivered and arranged the flowers for the Altar of Repose. That would have been..........well, you know what it would have been. Ad libbing lectors are a prickly spot with me. (And heaven knows I have a lot of prickly spots.) Besides, as my dear father used to say, “You know it and God knows it - that should be enough!”

So I could stay in the pew. Which is where I wanted to be after spending the afternoon reviewing the Pange Lingua and Tantum Ergo with the boys. I reviewed ever so briefly the legend that the Pange Lingua derives its tune from a Roman marching song. I certainly didn’t need anyone bursting into “Ecce, Caesar nunc triumphat qui subgegit Gallias” by mistake. I can see now that I had a lot of my personal pride invested in this. Which I didn’t realized until the second verse of the Pange Lingua. I was kneeling there feeling like Mrs. Perfect POD Homschooling Mom - just knowing that my children were singing in Latin, without the Missalette. At that moment, Chuck taps me on the arm and I turn and see that he is in the midst of a sudden torrential nosebleed. The rest is something of a blur. Lots of Kleenex and nose pinching. Couldn’t really leave the pew because the Eucharistic procession was heading toward us. Chuck’s fine. My moment of glory was pulled out from under me. Which is precisely what I needed.

RIck took the twitchy contingent home soon after Mass. I stayed another hour. I had a lot to discuss with the Lord.