In a few days, here in the U.S., we will be celebrating Mother’s Day. With this in mind, I began to wonder, “Why do we celebrate Mother’s Day?” In a quick search of the internet, I found that a day honoring mothers has existed in many cultures for thousands of years under many names. I discovered that our own U.S. celebration began with one woman, Ann Jarvis, remembering her own mother during a memorial at a Methodist Church in West Virginia in 1908. It impressed me that one woman’s love and respect for her own mother was the one drop in the pond which sent ripples far and wide for over a century thus far.

Ann Jarvis’ recognition of her own mother led me to think about all our maternal roots. For many, like Ann and myself, the physical presence of our moms and grandmoms is gone. We can place flowers on their graves or have a Mass celebrated in their memories, but we can not hold their hands, give them a kiss, hear the sound of their laughter, or taste one of their delicious meal I’m sure that many of us wish we could have them back in the flesh just one more day! To those who are grieving this Mother’s Day I say, “Take consolation in knowing that, in their new lives, they are no more than a breath away.” Whenever you think of them, pray for them, or miss them, their spirit is right there with you. The love you shared bridges the chasm created by death.

Some of you may have the opportunity to see your mothers, and possibly grandmothers, every day. I hope you really appreciate what a gift that is. I know that close relationships aren’t always peaceful or as loving as we would like. After all, we are imperfect. Sometimes we have said hurtful things or have not been as attentive as we could have been. Now is the time to make those physical relationships the best you can by loving as generously as you can. Today is the time for forgiving and being humble enough to ask forgiveness when you have fallen short.

Lastly, some of you may never have known your mother. On this special day, I pray that you will honor the people who God has put in your lives to act as mother figures. Maybe you have an adoptive mom, mother-in-law, aunt, sister, teacher, or friend who nurtures your soul and challenges you to grow, because that is the heart of motherhood. In this regard many of us have been blessed to have several “Moms” in our lives.

If you happen to be Catholic, you are abundantly blessed because our faith tradition tells us that motherhood, and the celebration of Mother’s Day, is not merely a biological reality, and encourages us to look to Mary, Jesus’ mother, as our own spiritual mother! I have a good Redemptorist priest friend who will often say, “I need to talk that over with Mom,” when he is going to pray the rosary. I hope this Mother’s Day, we will all take the opportunity to develop a deeper relationship to our Blessed “Mom”, because I believe we truly please Jesus, when we show love for his mother.

As a Catholic I recognize another level to this Mother’s Day, because Scripture encourages us to consider Mary’s response to the Archangel Gabriel, “be it done unto me according to your word.” Our Church has called this response Mary’s “fiat,” literally meaning her “let it be so.” We are urged to look to Mary as our example of trust, courage, and love of God. Each day every one of us is called to make our own “fiat.” Mary’s example can give us the courage to say “Yes!” to God’s will for our lives. We are asked to open our hearts and allow Christ, “the anointed one,” to be nurtured and brought to birth anew in this world. We are all, in one sense, called to be mothers to Jesus Christ. Of course, we can never carry Him in a womb as Mary did, but we can carry Him in our hearts and share his love as she did. So, with that in mind, I wish each of you, man or woman, child or adult, “Happy Mother’s Day.”

Today I have GREAT news! It is a new year, all our attention is focused upon a future of possibility. We have another opportunity for a fresh start! All the mistakes we have made in the past are passed…the proverbial “water under the bridge.” Turing the calendar allows us to celebrate the triumphs of the outgoing year and physically tear up a symbol of whatever was negative in the year gone by. The days ahead are a blank slate!

Yes, I know that the news coming from Chicago and around the world is not very positive. Gun violence, man’s inhumanity, and the petty actions of our government leaders are still very real. However, a very wise college professor once made this observation, “Commercial news by its very nature must be sensational. The things you read in the newspaper or watch on TV must always have a hook that makes the story stand out. If newspapers ever become full of stories of daily kindness, compassion, generosity, and understanding, the world will be in serious trouble. If violence and brutality ever become the norm, those happenings will no longer deserve commercial space. They will no longer be news!”

That observation has brought me much hope in the times when I begin to feel helpless against the tide of darkness. It is at those times that I look to my neighborhood and neighborhoods around the globe. I look for all the unsung acts of kindness and courage that happen each day without much fanfare. I look at those teachers who go to work daily, diligently studying the needs of their students and searching for ways to make difficult concepts more understandable. I think about the nurses and doctors balancing the concerns of their personal lives with the joys, sorrows, and concerns of patients and their families. I rejoice in the members of my faith family who are always willing to lend a hand when someone needs food, clothing, comfort, shelter, and a ride to the store or doctor. I marvel at those who are caring for loved ones suffering the hardships of declining health or facing the challenges of Alzheimer’s, dementia, or approaching death. I admire the men and women who work one, two, and even three jobs trying to provide for their families. I appreciate all the moms and dads doing their best to raise healthy, happy and responsible children while balancing work and family life. I respect the men and women who lay their lives on the line everyday in the military, fire and police services and their families who continually pray for a safe return at the end of every day. I remember the many people facing serious illness, who endure uncomfortable tests and painful treatments with little complaint. I respect those who honestly pursue ways to overcome addictions, mental illness, and homelessness.

This new year I am struck by the fact that the vast majority of life is just ordinary people, doing ordinary things with extraordinary courage and humility. The thousands of good people I have met in my lifetime, face each day with no media attention. Whenever I have said, “I really admire your courage, perseverance, patience or generosity,” my comment is usually met with a humble and selfless reply which reminds me of the old song, “we did it all for the glory of love.”

Oh, sure we all have our days of complaint when life’s challenges and changes weigh heavy on our shoulders! Those are the times we truly appreciate the ear of a friend, loved one, counselor or confessor who understands our frustration, and points us toward renewed hope.

This new year I stand in awe of the resilience of the human spirit and sing the praises of all those ordinary people who continually find a way to step back, take a deep breath, and face each new day with fresh determination and perseverance, especially those who do it all with a smile and real interior joy! You are my heroes!

I wish each and every one of you blessings, strength, joy, and love in 2017!!

Are you pulling out all the best china, crystal and linens in preparation for Thanksgiving? Or maybe you are loading the car, having the oil checked, and getting ready for that drive “over the river and through the woods”? Maybe you have the blues because this is the “first” holiday without certain friends or loved ones? Is it possible that you are a soldier or missionary on first deployment far from home and familiar traditions?

No matter what your situation might be, I want to wish you a “Happy Thanksgiving” and let you know that, no matter where or who you are, I will be thinking about you and offering many prayers that you, and those who surround you, will be able to find the peace and joy which this approaching season embodies.

At my age, and with my family’s history, I can easily relate to the mixed emotions stirred by this time of year. I have experienced the gamut of emotions, from innocent childhood anticipation and excitement lingering deep in the recesses of the psyche, to the exhaustion brought on by self-imposed expectations, and the deep sadness which may seem to lie in ambush because that “special person” is so deeply missed.

I am going to make a suggestion for the holiday season of 2016. Make this a “Season of Less.” Yes, I have said this before, less can actually be more. Some valid questions for the “Season of Less” would be, “Does this activity, thought, or process embody the spirit of the season? Does it expand my mind, heart, or soul? Does it kindle a joy that is deeper than the more obvious surface emotions? Does it extend that type of joy to someone else?”

My hope for all my friends, family, acquaintances, and world family is that, from now until the new year, we would make a concerted effort each day to simplify the season. Here are a few suggestions. By no means is this meant to be an exhaustive list. Let the notion that “less can be more” soak in and then act upon that desire to be an agent of simplicity.

• Be less critical of those who don’t share your “Jingle Bell” enthusiasm or be less harsh on yourself whenever you are not in a “holiday mood.”
• Be less judgmental of those who have differing beliefs about this season.
• Refuse to take insult if someone scowls when you wish them a “Merry Christmas” and refuse be cranky when someone wishes you “Happy Holidays.”
• Make an effort to simplify your holiday decorations. In other words, do you really need all those Griswoldesque lighted displays in your yard and on your roof? The original reason for this holiday season began in simple surroundings.
• Visit a place you consider “holy” or “sacred” and offer gratitude for that place.
• Spend a few moments in quiet gratitude for all your memories (the good and not-so-good).
• Have a good cry over a bad memory and then let it go!
• Seek someone’s forgiveness for an error you have made. If they won’t forgive, let that go!
• Watch your favorite holiday movie with friends, this is NOT “wasting time.”
• Send greetings to your friends in January. It will free up some holiday time and your greetings will really stand out from the rest.
• Bake less cookies and use the time to call someone you have not spoken to in over a year.
• Take a one day vacation from all news sources. You may find this so uplifting you will want to extend that vacation.
• Spend one day free of your computer and/or cell phone. Notice if you have any “withdrawal” symptoms which may indicate you are flirting with a technological addiction.
• Be on the watch for critical speech. Criticize less and praise more.
• There’s no need for a gratitude LIST. Just think of ONE thing each day that brings you joy.
• Spend less.
• Have one less cookie.
• Have one less drink.

May each day of this holiday season be filled to the brim with MORE hope, joy, kindness, love, patience, and peace, because you have committed to make it a “Season of Less.”

My husband and I are on our way back home, after spending time with my brother-in-law, Jim, during his last days on this earth. His journey across the divide was shorter than any of us ever expected. We felt blessed to be able to say our “Farewells” and assure him of our love. My sister was by his side when he breathed his last.

After the initial shock, we helped my sister, her children, and grandchildren plan the memorial service and together we grieved the loss of a great husband, loving father and grandfather, brave fire fighter, loyal friend, gentle servant, and generally funny guy.

As I attempted to ease back into some semblance of normalcy, I logged into my Facebook newsfeed and was greeted by this quote from St. John Paul II, “I plead with you – never ever give up on hope, never doubt, never tire, and never become discouraged. Be not afraid.”

I know that many of you may call this “coincidence.” Some of you may say that it is an “ironic happenstance.” Still others may say it is just “pure chance” and that, if I had been greeted by any other quote, my broken heart would have found a way to relate it to this recent loss.

Believe what you will, for me, these words have touched my brokenness with love and reassurance, like no other could.

When someone you have loved for over 54 years passes from this life, the loss has deep physical repercussions. For the last ten days, though I feel profoundly exhausted, my sleep has been fitful. There is a physical sensation in the center of my chest that I can only describe as a heavy emptiness. Symptoms of acid reflux have amped up and tears always seem to be just below the surface during any conversation. The mention of his name, and even the most happy memory puts a lump in my throat and pressure behind my eyes. I feel slightly off-balance and easily distracted. It is difficult to accept the fact that I will no longer see him or speak with him in a physical sense.

My usual daily routine has been everything but normal. I have been trying to nurture my sister as she learns to carry the pain of her widowhood, to be a gentle companion as she attempts to get through this dark forest of grief. In some ways it is the blind leading the blind, but I truly believe the old adage “a burden shared is a burden lightened.”

While it is true that we have lost our parents and many beloved relatives and friends, this loss is different. It is a loss that has stripped away great chunks of her confidence and energy. It is a loss that is felt every time she opens the door to an empty house. It will be experienced each time she gets into the car they bought to accommodate his increasing medical needs. It will fill her days and nights in ways that no one but she will truly understand. Still I hope that when those times come, she feels our love and realizes that though she is lonely, she is not alone.

For now, Jim’s laughter and off-beat sense of humor are conspicuously missing. We all tell ourselves that one day his spirit of joy will again well up in our hearts and shine through our own eyes, but right now we are numb, exhausted, and hurting. Right now, hope is all we have. We are contending with the temptations of doubt, discouragement, and fear. We are leaning on the foundation of our faith and the love of friends and family.

Into the midst of this darkness, today a light has shown. It was like standing in a pitch-black room being fearful of stumbling when a ray of light illuminates the familiar and comfortable surroundings. In my heart I feel Jim reaching through the veil. It is his voice saying, “Never ever give up on hope, never doubt, never tire, and never become discouraged. Be not afraid.”

Okay, Jim, I hear you!!

My Facebook page has recently been flooded with images such as, “Aren’t you glad you grew up before technology?” These posts generally talk about blissful play, returning home “when the street lights came on,” and “drinking water from a hose.” I have two concerns about these memes. First, they devalue today’s experiences and secondarily, they romanticize a time that was far from idyllic. Maybe it is a survival instinct that, as we get older, we focus on memories of joyful times and compartmentalize (or forget) the experiences that were less than perfect.

If you are younger than 60, it may be very hard to truly understand what it was like living in “the good old days.” Some folks often say it was a time of greater faith, more safety, greater innocence, and strong family values, but I think it is all about perspective. I believe humanity is brimming with potential and that the best times are still ahead. I am also very aware that many things are better today than when I was growing up.

I will soon turn sixty-four and my memories of the 1950s and 60s are not all roses, unicorns, and rainbows. I have lived through riots, assassinations, wars, “military conflicts,” kidnappings, murders, terrorism, and recessions. I have also experienced great innovation, altruism, spiritual awakening, courage, and perseverance.

For eons there has been nastiness in the world. In my youth, media outlets were prevented from publishing many of the darker stories. The underbelly of life was relegated to small-circulation tabloid papers. Today, the shadows are out in the open. Unfortunately, this disclosure can cause people to fall prey to cynicism and pessimism. I want to challenge those temptations with some reasons I am glad to be living in this time.

My maternal grandmother lost two infant sons. One was called a “blue baby” and died because he had a hole in his heart, the other died of rickets caused by malnutrition. My mother’s older sister was a premature baby, born weighing two pounds. She was wrapped in cotton and kept warm in a shoe box on a coal stove. She survived, but remained sickly and had “dropsy” (congestive heart failure) most of her life. She married a man “from the old country” and gave birth to 10 children in nine years. Only six of those children survived, and of those it was her eldest who was physically and mentally strong. Subsequent children had various disabilities including club foot, schizophrenia, and what was then called “mental retardation.” Though doctors often suggested that her “tubes be tied for health reasons,” her Catholic beliefs prohibited the procedure. She died at 48 years of age and most of her children died in their 40s. I am grateful for improvements in reproductive health.

The same aunt’s husband was an immigrant, and could never manage to secure anything but menial labor and my mother and father often had to help their family financially. I know there are dishonest people, but statistics show that the vast majority of welfare recipients truly are in need, just like my aunt’s family was. I appreciate the work of food pantries and welfare programs.

The ladies in my old neighborhood would speak in hushed tones about local suicides and murders due to, what would now be called, postpartum depression and spousal abuse. Yet none of these episodes were on the Nightly News with Walter Cronkite. Women suffering depression were often institutionalized. Battered women were instructed by the police, courts, and religious leaders to be “submissive,” and if their husband beat them “they must have had it coming.” I am thankful for all the efforts to assist women in dangerous relationships.

When I grew up there was a definite separation in my neighborhood between Catholics and “pagans.” Churches in the south were often fire bombed. When John Kennedy ran for president, editorials and political discussions showed concern that a “papist” would allow the Vatican to rule the United States. Religious finger-pointing and suspicion is nothing new! I am glad that people are discussing and fighting for equality among belief systems.

In my childhood, racial and ethnic epithets were common place and even acceptable. My dad, and many of his friends and business associates, regularly used at least a half-dozen derogatory references for people of color, or ethnic origins. We were often called “Polacks” and portrayed as being stupid. I grew up among real live Archie Bunkers! I am glad that “political correctness” makes people moderate their language.

My mother managed a “beauty salon” for Goldblatt’s. One of her co-workers was a homosexual man. He was a great worker and clients always praised him, but they also talked behind his back. He was never invited to any co-workers’ homes, including ours. He could never be honest about his inner thoughts and feelings. In the 1960s he committed suicide. I am grateful that we have open discussion about the dignity of all people.

When I was a girl, prostitution was hidden but common place, and men knew where to go to obtain those services. There was little concern they would be caught and/or prosecuted. Heck, some fathers took sons to a “pro” as a rite of passage into manhood. I am grateful that there are organizations to fight against sexual slavery.

My paternal uncle and grandfather both died of tuberculosis, aged 27 and 48 respectively. My paternal grandmother died of congestive heart failure at age 32 only six months after giving birth to her 7th child. My husband’s father and four of his maternal uncles died of heart disease before age 45 and my dad died at 58! I know people who were orphaned in the influenza pandemic of 1918. I went to school with a girl who wore leg braces because of polio, and my stepdad had a permanent limp because of that disease. I rejoice daily that my husband, and many others, are alive because of the advancements in medical treatment.

I have two cousins who died in “mental institutions” and another cousin whose family member died in an “insane asylum.” I am grateful for improvements and hopeful for future advancements in the treatment of depression and other psychological struggles.

We certainly have a long way to go in learning to truly be the land of the free. Still, I believe the vast majority of people are doing their best to live honest and loving lives in the pursuit of happiness. Ultimately, I agree with Billy Joel, “the good old days weren’t always good, tomorrow’s not at bad as it seems.”