Wednesday, December 25, 2013

After Midnight...with P.S.

I went early to Midnight Mass, so I could listen to the choir sing before the actual service.  It was good for my soul to be back in that beautiful old church.  I took a seat in the back, and ended up in the ol crones row.  All dressed in black they were, glasses perched on partisan noses, short gray hair.
I like being in back, so I don't have people behind me, and to see what is going on. Old family friends across the way to wave to.  A couple: the man sporting a high and tight, his arm around his lady, kissing her hair, and smiling down at her.  An older gentleman a few rows up by himself, but comfortable with it.  A young couple with small fussy children and a baby that slept thru it all.
The music was beautiful, a great choir. Outstanding really, when you consider the size of the parish.
 They have a Filipino priest now, a gentle kind man, but difficult to understand.  Maybe I just miss when Father D was here: his wit, wisdom, and sparkling Irish eyes. His crafty council could make something good out of imperfection.
Many prayers were whispered for the Corpsman's safe return home. I wanted to shout them, for fear they otherwise would get lost in the crowd. 
While the crones were off for wafers and wine, a wee gentleman stepped up to me and said "Where's your husband?"  A bit taken aback, I just shook my head.  Whereupon he said, "YOU don't have a husband!"  The crones returned then and he retreated.  I so wanted to laugh, it must have been my wild white hair, red coat and red heels in a sea of black.

PS:  Sitting on my parents bed this morning, with Dad in his chair, and mom dozing, I was telling Dad about Midnight Mass when suddenly two sharp eyes pop open in horror, and Mom yells... "Oh My God, you're a Catholic."


  1. Our Christmas Eve service at the church was lovely. It was difficult for me to keep from crying from all the nostalgia. But at the end of the service I suffered my first panic attack in years. Everyone had lighted candles, including the children and I could hear the parents of the child behind me constantly reprimanding their child to be careful. I just knew that my wig of synthetic hair was going to go up in flames any second as this child seemed to be flailing about trying to keep her parents from taking the candle away from her.

  2. Merry Christmas, Brighid!

  3. My son made music at the 11 o'clock service. Makes me happy. Offering up prayers for all of ours serving everywhere, for safe returns. Sending our love out to all those far from home.

  4. I'm glad you got to go and take in the music. Have a wonderful day Brighid.

  5. I was there Brighid! Because you described it so well.

  6. The PS made it all come together.

  7. GRANNY ANNIE: Whoa, good thing it wasn't me there!

    LL: Thanks

    CELIA: Wonderful that your made music. Lots of prayers for those in harms way.

    OLD NFO: Thank you

    BRIGID: Thanks, I'm glad I went.

    GRANNYMAR: Thought you might enjoy that...

    NELLY: Thanks, I try!

    LL: About time it came together huh!