#today people are dying but it is the 40th day of her death which means it is the 40th day of the revolution which is the 40th day of

[oatbugs]

non-zero amount of swans and a non-zero amount of lakes.

[allie1804-fan]

Kerensa

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5 , Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8

Chapter 9

The Griefcast Record

Keanu got out of the taxi at Whistledown Studios and headed in. Cariad and the recoding team greeted him and they got set up with teas, biscuits and a box of tissues on the table

“God, it’s just like a therapist’s room!” he joked

“Best to be prepared! They might be for me anyhow” she laughed.

Before we start though, can I just spend a moment being a fangirl and just say how amazing it is for me to meet you. There are so many films of yours I love – and my kids adore Duke Caboom!”

“ahh yes, Canada’s Greatest Stuntman” he boomed - “that was a fun role”

“and so perfectly cast right?”

“Yeah yeah I guess. I’m glad they picked me from the roster of Canadians they had lined up!”

“Ok, so thanks for letting me just gush for a moment! Are you ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be!”

“First tell me the story of how we managed to get you as a guest.”

“Ok so right, so errm my friend Kerry is the link. I was filming in Cornwall this past year and uh, after we wrapped I was so charmed by the place that I decided to stay and rent a place for a couple of months down there. Kerry was my landlady and one day I came across her walking along the beach, tears streaming down her face and she was listening to your show which she highly recommended to me. I admit it took a bit of persuading to listen, given the crying thing!, but she told me it was more reassuring and uplifting than upsetting. Anyway, so sorry, this is turning into a shaggy dog tale!, so I did give it a go, really loved it

“Oh thank you”

“So then one day we were discussing an episode about baby loss, something we had in common and had talked about before and she said I should do the show. Now THAT took a lot more thought and persuasion, but she said it would do me good and there would be the angle of the man’s perspective and being someone with a public profile going through loss and you know yada, yada yada so here I am, finally!

“That’s amazing and thank you so much to Kerry for listening to the show and for your persuasive talents in getting this lovely man here today. So Keanu, as you know we always start with this question. Who are we remembering today?”

“Today we’re remembering my daughter Ava who was stillborn 23 years ago this year.”

“Ok so would you mind telling me a little bit about what happened.”

“So, ahh, it was in the spring of 1999. The Matrix had just come out and my life was pretty full on. My girlfriend Jennifer became pregnant around that time. It was unplanned and I’ll be honest, I wasn’t super happy about it at first, but she wanted to keep the baby and I said I’d support her, you know, and as time went on I was more excited than worried about becoming a dad.”

“And how was the pregnancy? How far along was Jennifer when Ava died?”

“Everything seemed fine, she, Ava was growing and developing normally. Jen was healthy. Then I was away filming, a god awful project as well! And, Um, ahh, give me a minute” Keanu cleared his throat and took a drink of water.

“I swore I wouldn’t do this” he said gesturing at himself tearing up, his voice cracking slightly “but sometimes, the memories can be, uhhh, very powerful, very vivid”

“Yes you can be taken right back like it just happened can’t you, however long ago - you know I’m 20 plus years out now and still very occasionally I can be catapulted back there. So, everything looked good but you were away, filming - and I’m sure it can’t have been an awful film”

Keanu snorted

“I assure you it was!, yes anyway, Jen went for a last check up at a little over 8 months and uh, there was no heartbeat. Ava had died and so I flew home and she had to, you know, give birth in a maternity unit, hearing all the other babies being born - I mean they have to do it there because you still might need, you know, that expertise and they tried to keep us private but those places they get busy and she had to go through all that with those sounds sometimes breaking through”

“Yes I hear that that is a common experience here in the UK too and one that SANDS, the still birth charity is trying to address. It’s interesting your choice of words: “she went through that”, presumably you were there so didn’t you go through it too?”

“Yeah, yeah - I guess, I just meant that it was worse, more traumatic mentally for her and obviously physically too”

“Sure sure, but awful for both of you nonetheless”

“Indeed, it was” Keanu paused a moment as though something important had just occurred to him “and she was beautiful too you know”

“awwwww” Cariad moaned sympathetically

“she was beautiful, perfect and warm, just silent, still”

Keanu looked up at Cariad, his eyes filled with tears once more and they both just sat for a moment, taking in the pain of his loss. Eventually, Cariad started the conversation again.

“And did you both hold her? Did the hospital staff help you, you know, to say goodbye to her?”

Yeah yeah, we did hold her. They left us be for a good amount of time, they took prints of her hands and feet and a photograph. You know they were supportive in that way, especially as we knew already, you know, that she had died, they were prepared. I don’t think we were, I mean I don’t think you can prepare for that, right? Your brain won’t let you, not really.”

“Yeah yeah, we talk about that a lot on the show, there are people who say it’s better when someone dies of an illness so you know it’s coming whereas with a sudden death you suffer more shock but I still think there’s a degree of shock you experience even when you have some warning.

“Yeah yeah and it’s so stupid, we’re all just so dumb because death is coming man, to us all but we just don’t want to think about it!” He chuckled

“So are you someone who thinks about death a lot?”

“Yeah yeah it’s always there in the back of my mind, spurring me on to do things, make that film, write that script, build that bike!”

“And do you think that’s because of losing Ava?”

“I don’t know, no not really, well maybe a little but that’s come more with getting older I think - I didn’t really have that reaction at the time”

“So what was your reaction, how did you grieve for Ava?”

Another chuckle came from Keanu.

“A more appropriate question might be how didn’t I grieve for her, at the time I mean!”

“Oh?”

“Hee hee you’re like a therapist, leaving the gaps for me to fill!”

“Some of my critics say I interrupt too much and start talking about me so…..”

“We’ll that’s not very nice is it? And also not true!”

“Thanks - Comes with the territory I guess, so please, go on, fill the gap”

“What was the question again?”

“It was about how you did or didn’t grieve for Ava after her birth?”

“Mmmm well we buried her, in the new year, she was born on Christmas Eve, which is uhhh, another tricky thing about it”

“Oh that’s awful, death on high days and holidays just adds another layer right?”

“Yeah yeah. They do - so um after that I went to Georgia to shoot a movie!”

“So you threw yourself into work then?”

“Yup, my trusty friend in times of crisis. In fact I did, let me see, 1, 2, 3, yes 3 movies in the next year and then started training for the Matrix 2 and 3 so I guess the answer is I put my feelings in a tightly locked metaphorical box and didn’t open it for quite some time!”

“And was there intrusion from the press , I guess this is pre the days of the internet being so developed and social media but how was that side of it?”

“Yeah there was some, you know photographers with long lenses at the cemetery”

“God! I can’t imagine”

“Yeah pretty low, right but in a way because of the taboo of stillbirth, people, you know interviewers and stuff, didn’t ask me about it. I mean I would sometimes say “no personal questions” but at other times that hasn’t stopped people.”

“Oh like what?”

“I’m thinking of when River, River Phoenix died, even if I said I wouldn’t answer anything personal they would still ask how I felt, did I miss him. I mean, fuck! Oh sorry I can swear right?”

“Swear away, sure, and god, fuck yeah, that deserved it. I mean obviously that’s a bit of a contradiction coming from me given we’re here and I’m making you talk about private things but”

“But I agreed, that’s the deal here, it’s not the deal to segue from “how was it jumping onto a moving bus to “how do you feel about your best friend dying!”

“Absolutely. So you said you dealt with it, but much later? What about Jennifer, how did she cope?”

“Umm, I don’t know - I mean what’s normal in that situation? She cried, she wailed like a wounded animal. Her mum moved in. I was away and not there to support her like I should have been. We weren’t really a couple either by then. We were going to co-parent but not as a romantic couple you know so it was complicated. To be honest I think a little bit of her died right then - and then she died herself the following April so you know, what you see before you is the last man standing of that family unit that might have been.”

“Woo that’s tough. You’ve really been through the mill as it were.”

“Yeah, yeah but you know I AM still standing. I’m lucky.”

“And how did Jennifer die?”

“Car wreck”

“I’m so sorry”

“Thanks, me too”

“So how is that, being the only one left? Some people talk about losing key people as losing their witness.”

“Yes! That’s it, exactly. Now it’s just me here to remember Ava, to remember her coming in and out of this world”

Yeah yeah that’s hard. So you said you dealt with it later? How did that come about?”

“Midlife crisis I guess - when I turned 40, I had a bit of a meltdown, you know, wondering about my goals, what I had or hadn’t achieved. I basically “ran away” alone to Paris on my 40th birthday, to escape any awful surprise party! And you know, I quietly fell apart in a vat of wine! When I went home my friend Janey was just like “Keanu, it’s time, time for therapy!”

“Ahhh it’s great isn’t it, big fans of that on the show!”

“Yeah I guess, I mean, ahhh I wasn’t that comfortable taking the lid off but yeah it did me a favour and helped sort my shit out. And a lot of the guilt and pain of losing Ava was gone through belatedly during that process”

“And why did you feel guilty?”

“Mmmm well I think I started to think I was a curse - my sister had been sick with leukemia, Ava had died, Jen had died, River, others as well and I felt guilty for that stupid film I was working on when it happened! So yeah, there were lots of rocks to lift up, inspect what lay beneath and deal with my emotions.”

“Well you seem like you have your shit sorted now”

“I’m a work in progress!”

“So now you’re, 23 years on, how do you remember Ava and Jen now.”

“Well it’s hard to forget the day for Ava what with it being Christmas Eve. I sometimes visit their graves - after dark if I can to avoid being hounded”

“What has the world come to when a person can’t be left in peace to visit a loved one’s resting place”

“Yeah it’s fucked up right?”

“Precisely.”

“And what else? , well I do have one little thing that my friend Alex who’s an artist, made for me. It was because of something she said she did to remember her lost loved ones. She would get a Christmas ornament that in some way represented the person and hang it on her tree at Christmas. So she made this beautiful little stained glass bird to hang up on my tree or in the house if I don’t have a tree which sometimes happens. So, uh, Ava’s name in Latin would mean bird or bird like so that’s why she did that, yes so I always think of her then and you know I would think about where she would be at a given point like when my friends kids have started school again after summer break I would think “oh Ava would be starting you know kindergarten or elementary school etc.”

“And do your family share in that?”

“Yeah, yeah - especially my mom. She has no grandchildren so yeah she remembers and we’ll have a moment sometimes yeah but it can be lonely, not having the other parent there who shares the same loss.”

“Yes I’m sure it is. Grief can be very lonely sometimes. Well, Keanu I really can’t thank you enough for coming on my little podcast and sharing your experience of baby loss and loss in the public spotlight with us today. Thank you so much for telling us about your beautiful baby girl Ava and her mum Jen.”

“Thanks for having me - I know this might sound weird, but it’s been a pleasure talking with you and remembering them today so, thank you and thanks to Kerry who suggested it. She said it would be good for my soul and she, as always, was right!”

@fortheloveoffanfic @omg-imagine @iworshipkeanureeves @toomanystoriessolittletime @ladyreapermc @paperplanesandwallflowers @patric9

[sweaterinvested]

— up, up, and away:;

SETTING   /   OUTSIDE THE PRIMRODIAL AUTO CLUB AND MC CLUB HOUSE. EVENT   /    PRIMORDIAL MOTORCYCLE CLUB 40TH ANNIVERSARY PARTY. TRIGGER WARNINGS   /   GUN VIOLENCE, BLOOD, INJURY, DEATH.

    Coming to the Primordial anniversary party wasn’t his brightest idea. Desmond is well aware of that. But Sutton had invited him, and he knew that despite the thin ice he was treading on with the gang that there would be people there he cared about. And of course...he didn’t want to say no to Sutton after she’d invited him— especially when his best friend had seemed so down as of late. So he was here for moral support, and perhaps there was the smallest kernel in his still bruised ribs that said he was here to simply prove that he wouldn’t be bullied into submission. But he wasn’t here to listen to whispers and spy and snoop today. No, he’d decided he would just be Desmond, the high-school English teacher, and get some of that glorious potato salad he’d heard so much about. At some point he’d meandered into the outside area of the party to the front of the shop, getting some fresh air and the like.

    Being a teacher in such a small town came with its own hazards, one of which being that he couldn’t go much of anywhere without running into a student, a parent, or a coworker. Today seemed to be a day for the first two of those roles, and it hadn’t taken long for him to run find AJ and his little sister, Iris. AJ had started off as, for lack of a better word, a nuisance. But Desmond knew that beneath the acting out, there must be a reason for it. So instead of writing him off as mini-Anthony, he’d taken the time to know AJ, and encourage him in his writing. In truth, the boy wasn’t bad at English, especially when it came to stroy-telling. In the end...he liked to think he and AJ had reached an understanding of one another, and were as close to friends as a teacher and student could get.

    It had been the reason Desmond had brought along a gift for AJ to this shindig for the boy’s birthday, grinning as he passed it along to the student he considered a success, the two of them bathed in smiles together before things shifted. Just a few moments later...something changed. A loud crashing sound, screams erupting from a nearby crowd, and a chill went down Desmond’s spine. Then he was hit, a solid mass coming into contact with the back of his head. Something warm trickled down his hairline, and he put a hand to the sticky substance on his skull to pull it away...ruby red.

    A little laugh erupted from him as he recognized the insides of a pie from the dessert table, and he turned to find the culprit. A young girl stood there wide-eyed, realizing her vital mistake “I wasn’t aiming for you!” she blurted out, trying to claim her innocence. “AJ was there, and then you walked in front of him!” Apparently, a food fight had broken out when he wasn’t looking. He should have just shrugged it off, and given the girl a free pass. But everything had been so heavy lately, and those few moments of lightness were ones he wanted to hang onto for as long as he could. So instead of grinning and saying ‘no problem’, he scooped up a pig in a blanket from his plate and tossed it her direction. His laugh came when he hit his target, and the girl’s stunned features slowly spread into a smile of her own. Her expression changed again, and a nearly blood curdling scream was ripped from her lips. So extreme was it that Desmond flinched, a frown coming over him. That was a bit dramatic of a reaction, wasn’t it?

    Everything that happened next came incredibly fast. The screams of joy coming from those in the food fight around him...moved, morphed into something much more sinister like the one that had come from the girl who’d been his target. And then the gunshots rang out, and the sound of the first one was like a punch to his gut. Pop! It only took a moment for the air to be filled with a downpour of the bullets, coming in quick succession. Pop! Pop! Pop! There wasn’t any time to think before Desmond was grabbing AJ by the collar to pull him to the ground, trying to make the boy less of a target. Next was Iris— who he brought down to the dirt and grass with him as well. Chaos was quick to come, robbing the happy destivity of its joy in only seconds, and groans of pain and terror pervaded the air. Desmond didn’t even bother to wonder exactly who was shooting. All that mattered was that danger and death were here to knock- no kick in the door of the security they’d been nestled in.

    Instinct kicked in, the deep-seated need he’d always felt to protect flashing through him as he looked for a place of cover, and adrenaline rushed through him. He had to get Iris and AJ out of here. A thickening in the trees caught his eye, as well as a large boulder that could hopefully create a shield for them. Desmond dared to peek his head up from the ground, trying to find a lull in the gunfire for him to make a break for it along with the kids. Finally their opportunity came, and he was unceremoniously picking the pair back up with him, directing AJ towards the trees with shouted words. He didn’t bother taking chances with Iris, scooping the girl into his arms to run with her to the treeline. By all means— Desmond shouldn’t have been able to do it, not in the state Andy had left him after the gas station run in. But adrenaline was a wonderful thing, dulling the pain of his bruised ribs to be barely noticeable as her ran with Iris and AJ.

    Finally they reached the place of safety, and Desmond put Iris to the ground once more, looking AJ in the eye, a confidence and fierceness there that gripped the teacher in times such as these. “Stay here. Look after your sister. Don’t move, and cover your heads.” Then Desmond was gone once more, diving back into the sound of terror and panic. The smell of blood had already seeped into the air, so thick that he swore he could almost taste it when he breathed. There wasn’t a moment of hesitation where he wondered whether or not he should be helping the gangs, rushing to save the people that he’d worked so hard to fix. There was no thought at all as he rushed back and forth between the safety of the trees, and the people still floundering about the scene of what was once a party, now turned into a murder field. People were at risk, and Desmond helped people. It was as simple as that.

    It wasn’t long before he had blood streaks painting his clothes, most of it not belonging to him, but rather the people he’d been helping. There had been one who’d stopped moving as he dragged them, the air no longer finding their lungs as they’d died in his grasp. There was no time to linger, though. Not now. Move on, and save those you can. But he had caught a few scrapes along the way, the sting of them fading with what should be the pain of his ribs. Still- the lines of red along his arms and face were angry and insistent as he went from place to place, person to person, dragging, and carrying, and guiding to safety. The process seemed endless, as if he was caught in a long tunnel running towards a light that was never getting closer, entirely unattainable. And yet he kept on sprinting because that’s all he knew how to do. He had never known when to stop, never known how to hold back when it came to things like this. That much was obvious with so many things in his life.

    First was Lettie. First was always Lettie in his mind— often forgetting to think of much else these days other than how he most likely had lost something so valuable in his life due to his inability to just let things be. Next was Andy. Desmond couldn’t just shut up and take a threat, couldn’t stop the continued words and such from slipping through his lips that had earned him the stench of gasoline and aching ribs. There were too many examples in his life to count, reaching back as far as he could possibly remember. The only thing that had ever stopped him was when he was made to stop, when his body quite literally couldn’t keep going, or his mind was scrambled to bits.

    And it seemed that another instance such as that was now. Again he felt something hit him, though this time it was in his thigh. Once more his hand went to inspect whatever it was that had found him, and there’s a small sense of deja vu as that hand came away sticky and red. Shot. He’d been shot. There was a moment of almost wonder as he paused for a second, nearly unable to believe that this is what fate had in store for him. This pain he feels. The burning of the bullet searing into his flesh as more and more blood gushes from the wound in his leg. Isn’t there some important artery in his thigh? One that’s nearly always fatal if hit? But he can’t bring himself to worry about it as he limps forward on his crippled leg, looking for another person to help to safety.

    Still, he refused to stop— to quit— to let something other than good and right win. However, he’s not left with much of a choice when his leg gave out on him in the heart of where the party had been in full swing, crumpling to the ground under the weight of himself. He moved to stand again. Determined not to let this get the better of him. He would crawl if he had to. But just before he can straighten himself, something struck across his head...hard. Hard enough for his vision to blink out of sight, and make him see spots. Suddenly the world is even fuzzier, and his line of thought goes garbled and nonsensical.

    Why was he thinking about potato salad again when he can’t seem to figure out which way was up or down? This time he hit the ground without catching himself, not even realizing it’s rushing up to meet him until he was lying on it, face down. Everything was dark, and Desmond didn’t know if it was because his eyes were closed, or perhaps because he’s dying. Even if he’s not dying currently, he can’t imagine a passerby might turn him over to see if he’s alive or not. Why would someone try and help the English teacher who’s been snooping around far too much?  If he doesn’t simply die from whatever’s happened to his head, surely he’ll bled out before anyone gives enough of a fuck to find him, to notice he’s gone. Ignored just like he was for the first half of his life.

    Dying. He had thought of that more often than not as of late, mostly because of the rising tension of the clubs, and his meeting with Andy at the gas station. If he died here, at least it would be better than dying with Andy. Here he had done something, here he made a difference. And that was all he had wanted to do with the world. Make a difference. It was why he’d become a teacher in the first place, to teach the younger generation that they had the power to change everything if they wanted to, to make the world their own, and to form it better than their predecessors. Desmond had helped people today, helped AJ, and Iris, and plenty of other people he didn’t know the name of. He’d make a difference. If he died today..at least it wouldn’t be alone at a gas station, unable to fight back. He’d die a death worthy of a hero, having saved those that might not have saved themselves. And that was all he had ever wanted. The difference was made.

[thewahookid]

July 2, 2021 Reflection – The only word is “Wow” The only word is “Wow”

July 2, 2021

Dear Family of Mary!

Denis and I are home, safe and sound, after 10 days of heaven in Medjugorje! The 40th Anniversary was a gigantic moment of grace!!! We all felt it, those of us there at St. James Church, and those of us there at St. James Church via Mary TV!

As Fr. Shawn Roberson put it, “You know, if I had one word to describe this past week in my experience here, the only word that comes to mind is, Wow! I mean, utterly amazing! ” And I agree!! Wow!!

Our shipmate, Stefanie transcribed the homily that Fr. Shawn gave on June 27, 2021 at English Mass in Medjugorje. Fr. Shawn was so filled with the Holy Spirit during the 40th Anniversary, that he couldn’t hide it!! His words are life giving! So, thank you Stefanie! Here is the homily:

English Mass Homily for June 27, 2021, Medjugorje, given by Fr. Shawn Roberson:

Well, Good Morning!

You know, if I had one word to describe this past week in my experience here, the only word that comes to mind is, Wow! I mean, utterly amazing!

I come from Franciscan University of Steubenville, Ohio, and we’re not short on big events. We do have big events there; but nothing like what took place on this Friday. I was so taken aback and left in awe! To be concelebrating and be in procession with 350 plus priests around the whole perimeter, being followed by that beautiful statue of Our Lady of Medjugorje… It was so incredible, so moving that it defies description.

In one way, I’ve come to sympathize with even the visionaries here. If you walked up to them and said, “What’s it like to have Mary appearing to you?” There aren’t really words, probably, for them to describe it. This is a place where words fall short.

And we encounter this moment as something special that we have been called to. And I know that in my heart. I was! We were, supposed to come last year in June. And we all know what happened. And we end up here for the 40th Anniversary of this incredible time.

And, as we were coming to the Consecration and we heard every priest there pronouncing the Consecration in their own language, it came to me, then and there: This is the New Pentecost! This Is the New Pentecost! Medjugorje – orchestrated by Mary, Spouse of the Spirit – is the New Pentecost! The place where the outpouring of the Holy Spirit coming through Her Intercession and the Presence of Jesus Christ is poured upon His People!

And it is something to behold! We are in, truly in, a historical moment! And isn’t it beautiful? Isn’t It Beautiful?!

And, you know, I came to this land to see and witness such beauty, not merely in the phenomenon that’s going on, but the way that the people here have been affected, the beauty in them. Because all of us coming from English-speaking countries – and I can only speak from my own, which is the USA – we live in a very secular world; huh? A very secular world that has closed itself off to God. Where God can be put into four walls – you do your thing and leave the rest of us alone – that’s pretty much the creed of the United States. That’s pretty much where we come from. And it’s seemingly a cold place.

What is the outcome of that secular world that we live in? What has become of it? St. John Paul II, in his prophetic wisdom, said, “We will be living, we are living and will be living in a time where this will be the Culture of Death.” We live in the Culture of Death. We live in a country and in a culture that has enshrined “death.”

Right? And where does that come from? Death didn’t come from God; God didn’t want death. We’re told in the first reading. It comes from the envy of the devil for the Word of God. It comes from the envy of the devil and all those who belong to his party will find that out. What a terrible statement. And what is that Culture of Death, but Pro-Abortion, Pro-Euthanasia, and other things that lead us down the path of death.

I was in Jamaica, Montego Bay, a few years ago, with a mission from Franciscan University – we had a beautiful mission. I was talking to a doctor there in Montego Bay. And we got into a conversation of just about, basically this, and he said to me, “Father, I was four years in residency before I even saw an attempted suicide.” They have an incredibly low suicide rate in Jamaica. I was stunned by that. I said, “We got young people dying by suicide in legions in my country.” And we talked about that and what it meant and what it came to. You know, Jamaica was always a very hospitable, welcoming place; you can walk into a store there and talk about Jesus and they’d be happy. You don’t do that in America.

But that’s not the way God wants it. Every step that Jesus Christ took – every step He took – brought life. This poor woman is bleeding for years, going to every doctor, clinic, whatever is at that time, to get healed; and nothing is working. All she does is touch the fringe of Jesus, and the cusp of death that she always lived on, is gone. Let alone the story that follows that, of the little girl.

Jesus doesn’t want His young people dying, especially by their own hand; whether that’s suicide directly, or that’s drug addiction and overdose. And our secular world has built a shrine around death. And what do we bring to that? We bring the life that God has given us, the Life that God has brought us to, that cherishes Life, that cherishes the Will of God, that cherishes Love.

The devil is at work in that culture. He’s telling young people, “You’re worthless. Your life is worthless. You can’t have Hope.” He’s sowing seeds of doubt, despair, hopelessness, in their lives, and they have nowhere to turn. And there it is. And this is the critical need for Evangelization. And there is a great hungering out there. There is a Great Hungering!

And you don’t hear anything about this on the main-stream media, huh? of the Pandemic of Suicide, the Pandemic of Death. Oh, we’ll hear about the pandemic we all know about, night after night, and sowing these seeds of fear. But we don’t hear about what’s really at the heart of the problem; because it’s a core issue for a secular world that they have no answer to. But Our Lady has appeared in Medjugorje with the answer. She has appeared with The Answer!

And I don’t want to say there aren’t Pockets of Goodness, because I – as I say – I am at Franciscan University of Steubenville – there is incredible Hope; what I see in the young people. This past year, we have daily mass and we are having five daily masses because we have to spread things out – but there have been seven to eight hundred at daily mass. Have you ever gone to a daily mass, can you imagine going to a mass at 6:30 am and seeing 150 to 200 young people, college students, there? There’s Hope folks! Thank you, Jesus, is right! It’s amazing!

But we also have our work to do. We have to be the witnesses that the Lord has called us; to the Goodness of Life; to the recognition that Jesus Christ loves us; He has designed us to have worth, to have purpose in this world; and to work for our salvation and the salvation of others.

And in a way, we do that chiefly by our witness, by what we have gotten here in Medjugorje. Our lives have been changed. You may be sitting there saying, “Well, I really don’t’ feel it.” But that’s okay; because it has. Your life has been changed by being here.

And, you know, as we raise a question – we are all going to get ready to go, Lord knows I’m going to go into withdrawal when I get back; you’ll see me with the earphones listening to the Croatian Rosary, night after night – but we go back with something. We’re not just going back with externals. We’re not going back with the gifts we bought. We’re not going back even with the experiences and the memories we have.

We’re going back with something that Our Lady has done here. She’s imprinted the Image of Her Son on our hearts. She’s imprinted the Image of Love (holding his hand to his heart) right here – that we come to know our worth; that we come to know how we look in the Eyes of the Living God; that we come to know who we are by His Plan and His Design. We have been called here to Medjugorje in this time to receive. And what we have all received is the imprint on our hearts.

And as we go forth, we are called, by Our Lady, to “guard our hearts.” That’s a saying among the young ladies at Steubenville; they talk about guarding your hearts emotionally from, you know, getting over-involved with guys. But we use it here, as to say that we are going to guard that image that she has imprinted on our hearts. And that image will carry us through this life, and it will radiate to others. It will radiate that the existence of what she said in her first apparitions, that God is real to a world that has declared that He is not. We have the opportunity to radiate that from the imprint that we have received. We have to guard that, with the works of these messages:  of mass, and confession, and fasting, and prayer, and rosary; and those things that Our Lady has brought us to that empower us with the Holy Spirit that we have received here.

This is a special moment, in a special time, in a special place. And, incredibly enough, we all have been called to be here. Let us rejoice! Let us rejoice to know the victory is won. She is here as a sign of God’s victory, that all the works of the devil that are out there, that sometimes are very much in our face, have no power whatsoever in her presence.

And we, today, brothers and sisters, are in her presence. We can rejoice in that and know that God has loved us here and called us to be His witnesses to the truth of this moment, to the truth of this time, and to the recognition that the Triumph of the Immaculate Heart – the Triumph of Our Lady of Medjugorje – will have the final word.

And she leads us to her Son. She leads us to the Heart of Jesus, who has a special place for each and every one of you. Let us rejoice in that this day and call upon the Lord to continue to lead us in a greater way in His love; that we would be His witnesses to a world that is in dire need – dire need – to know that Love, to know that Purpose, and to know God’s Living Plan.

Amen!

View the Homily here:

https://marytv.tv/english-homily-in-medjugorje-2/?smid=iqzCTRs02ic&slid=IRBKmbjFsDA

Thank you, Fr. Shawn! We all say, “Wow!” Amen!

In Jesus, Mary and Joseph! Cathy Nolan (c) Mary TV 2021

[theseadagiodays]

June 8, 2020

Art in Isolation

Artists listed clockwise from top right: Miriam Tingle, Shaheer Zazai, Ariel Shea, Veronica Pausova

I think, for me, there has been no group of people for whom I’ve had more empathy during this pandemic than those inside care homes.    I recognize that many of these facilities provide stellar support for their residents, as they struggle with ill health.  And I can think of nothing more honorable than a profession that allows people to face end of life as gracefully as possible.  However, I still think that there is a good reason why so many of us carry fear about such places.  Particularly given the restrictions imposed on these facilities during Covid, residents are now faced with what, perhaps, most chronically terrifies humans: the possibility of dying alone.  The Japanese even have a word for this - kodokushi or lonely death.

Thankfully, nursing homes and hospices have made extensive efforts to ameliorate these fears.  They are arranging regular digital communication for patients, with their loved ones.   And artists are also addressing this problem in very meaningful ways.  

Vancouver pianist, Matthew Li has been playing virtual performances for isolated patients all over Canada. https://www.cbc.ca/radio/thecurrent/the-current-for-may-4-2020-1.5554395/this-classical-pianist-is-offering-hospital-patients-virtual-private-music-recitals-1.5554784   And there are many other performers doing the same.

Also, this Toronto artist/curator team has organized an art donation program that has succeed in collecting over 200 original works, from the artists themselves (see photo above), to deliver (with fully compliant sanitary measures) to nursing homes in their area. https://cdnartinisolation.format.com/works-test

What’s important to acknowledge is the fact that end-of-life caregiving is a two-way street.  Sometimes, those in palliative care are less afraid to die alone than their loved ones are to be denied the opportunity to serve, comfort and seek closure.  So, it is beautiful that these gestures of music, and art, and video calls can soothe the souls of everyone involved.  

June 9, 2020

Making Lemonade

I don’t know about you, but lately, I feel like I’m drinking an awful lot of lemonade (and yes, sometimes spiked!).   Don’t get me wrong.  I usually love lemonade.  In fact, there are summer days when the craving hits me so hard, I can focus on nothing until it’s quenched.  I guess there’s something about the bittersweetness and resiliency of a drink that turns lemons into lemonade which usually attracts a “path-of-most-resistence” girl like me.  However, if I’m to be completely honest, I’m beginning to run out of Plan B’s.  Sure, there have been plenty of really tasty ones so far.  Like the socially distant private cocktail class for 6 that we gifted two of our friends (with us & their partners), when their big 40th & 50th birthday plans went caput with Covid.  One had hoped for a trip abroad with his family.  The other had booked a large venue and invited 100 friends and family for his now cancelled-‘til-‘21 bash.  So, mixing maitais and shaking whiskey sours as a back-up plan certainly wasn’t half-bad.  Then, there is the fact that my treasured local pool (a rare ,137-meter swimming facilty right on the ocean, available to the public for only $4 per visit) hasn’t opened this season, and probably won’t all year.  So, what did I do?  I rushed out to buy a 1 mm spring wetsuit, intent on “ocean hiking’ instead.  My inaugural swim, last Sunday night, down wind and down current, surrounded by mountains and the cityscape, which ended just below an eagle perched only 20-feet overhead, was an admittedly euphoric moment.  

So, believe me, I know I have no right to complain.  I’m just recognizing that, currently, I feel like I’ve pretty much tapped my creative juices to the max, which means that I’m looking for things to fuel my imagination for the months to come.  In my quest, I stumbled upon this particularly sophisticated back-up plan, which I imagine will be inspiration for many.

The Kanneh-Mason family is likely the most famous musical family you’ve never heard of.  All seven, that’s right, seven of these siblings are top-shelf classical musicians, conveniently covering nearly the full string family with 2 violinists, 3 pianists, and 2 cellists.  And, remarkably, their parents, who moved from Sierra Leone to England, where the children were raised, had only minimal exposure to musical instruments as kids.  Sheku, the third eldest, may be the most reknowned, having had his debut Carnegie Hall cello recital at just 20.  However, right by his side was his older sister Isata (23) on piano.  And it’s the lemonade that she recently squeezed out of a bum lemon which inspires me right now.  She’d been excitedly waiting for her upcoming Royal Albert Hall debut, a performance of Beethoven’s Third Piano Concerto with the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, originally scheduled for April 18th.  So, once it was cancelled, as all family phenoms do, the five oldest kids, shoeless and in sweats, performed a string trio and double piano arrangement of the piece from their living room, in a livestream performance on the exact concert date.  Even more notable than the oodles of talent and sensitivity that pour out of this one family, is what seems to be their genuine humility and gratitude, amidst the disappointment of a postponed dream, just for the opportunity to share their passion, even in far from hoped-for circumstances. #glasshalffull

https://www.classicfm.com/artists/sheku-kanneh-mason/family-isata-beethoven-live-stream/

June 10, 2020

Poet as Witness

Interestingly, this has become a very poetic moment in our lives.  This time, rife with fear and heightened emotions, has been witnessed, as poets do so well, with acuity and depth of vision.  Somehow, the poet as witness is able to observe something too large for most of us to contain, and then distill it for us into digestable doses that cut right to the bone.   I’ve heard many people speak of inboxes replete with verses sent from friends meant to comfort or console.  And it has felt appropriate and almost necessary for me to leave people at the end of each of my weekly guided meditations with a relevant poem that they can sit with.  The publishing world has recognized this need for poetry, too.  Consequently, Random House has, with lightning speed, put out a compilation of poetic work created during this period.  Together in a Sudden Strangeness was released today.  And in one entry from this stunning collection, Joshua Bennett’s raw words speak to the helplessness that he felt when he was not allowed to accompany his pregnant wife to her ultrasound during Covid.

Dad Poem by Joshua Bennett

No visitors allowed is what the masked woman behind the desk says only seconds after me and your mother arrive for the ultrasound. But I’m the father, I explain, like it means something defensible. She looks at me as if I’ve just confessed to being a minotaur in human disguise. Repeats the line. Caught in the space between astonishment & rage, we hold hands a minute or so more, imagining you a final time before our rushed goodbye, your mother vanishing down the corridor to call forth a veiled vision of you through glowing white machines. One she will bring to me later on, printed and slightly wrinkled at its edges, this secondhand sight of you almost unbearable both for its beauty and necessary deferral. What can I be to you now, smallest one, across the expanse of category & world catastrophe, what love persists in a time without touch.

Other poets have found a more literal way to turn some of this current hopelessness on its head.  And their reflexive approach is not new.  The violin duet, Der Spiegel (score above), often wrongly attributed to Mozart but written by another 18th century unnamed composer, is meant to be performed with Player One reading from top to bottom, and Player Two from bottom to top.  Cleverly, the two parts have unique yet complementary melodies that make a cohesive whole when performed together.   Similarly, Britt MacKinnon’s poem, Covid 19 Outlooks manages to paint a realistic picture of the simultaneously bleak and hopeful perspectives that many of us vascilate between, right now.  You just have to make sure to read it in reverse after you’ve read it from top to bottom.

I have no hope or control. Nobody can convince me that I still have a future. I recognize that I am safe and loved But I am overwhelmed by fear This situation dictates my daily well-being. I refuse to believe that There is a bright future ahead. Our world is disrupted. No longer do I feel that We have support and help from our leaders. During self-isolation. I am reminiscing and dreaming. Now I cherish the good old days. My way of life Changing Because of COVID-19

June 11, 2020

Dance On!

The fluctuating moods expressed in MacKinnon’s poem can be found in an abundance of art created during this time.  Mark Morris is known for his music-driven choreography and unorthodox elegance.  One of my former in-laws, Rita Donahue also danced with his company for many years, which adds an even more personal interest to my fandom.    His wide range of styles and moods is well-illustrated in the three pieces that comprise his latest virtual offering, Dance On!  From the uncomfortability of his discordant Lonely Waltz (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0hfkn4FI2CI) to the raw, visceral desperation of Anger Dance (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0mdAmS81E0Q) to the comic simplicity and object puppetry used in Sunshine (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VKAt2vBlMRw), the emotional evolution that I had as an audience member was much like the shift I experienced reading the poem above, upside down.   Geoff and I have always loved handstand therapy as an effective mood booster.  So, I’m taking this as a reminder to bring more inverted poses into my life.

June 12, 2020 

Rap & Gown

I have a confession.  As a rapper-wanna-be, flutist, with long curly hair and a name that begins with L, I secretly believe that Lizzo is my alter ego.     With her chutzpah, self-love and straight-talk, I think she is a prime role model for people of all ages and races.  And strong voices like hers are exactly what we need at this time.  Obviously, others agree, because she was invited to inspire stay-at-home graduates with her silver sounds on this collaborative performance of Elgar’s Pomp & Circumstance with the New York Philharmonic.  Now, that’s a grad ceremony that should have been worth coming out of quarantine for!

https://www.classicfm.com/artists/new-york-philharmonic/lizzo-plays-flute-class-of-2020-youtube-ceremony/

[sixtyfivehundredmiles]

Great Lakes Drownings an ‘epidemic.’ Meet a Michigan Man Obsessed with Ending them.

Too few folks appreciate the dangers of the Great Lakes, whose waters kill dozens of swimmers per year. Too few know what to do when sudden currents whisk them from shore.

MICHIGAN CITY, Ind. — About a dozen middle schoolers clustered on a beach on a recent morning — sun shining, a slight chill in the air. Some looked down at the sand. Others at Lake Michigan, its hypnotic waves washing ashore.

Most appeared to listen as a gray-haired, gray-bearded instructor shared a message that bordered on a plea: Too few folks appreciate the dangers of the Great Lakes, whose waters kill dozens of swimmers per year. Too few know what to do when sudden currents whisk them from shore.              

To bolster his point, Bob Pratt, the 59-year-old executive director for education at the nonprofit Great Lakes Surf Rescue Project, launched a quiz.

What do you do if your clothes catch on fire?

Stop, drop and roll, the students answered.

“What number do you call if you have an emergency?”

“9-1-1,” came the reply.

“What do you do if you’re drowning?”

A pause.

“Scream ‘help,’” one boy answered. A girl waved her arms.

“Here’s the thing,” said Pratt. Arm-waving means sinking. Screaming? Not if you’re choking on water. It all happens so fast, he explained. The answer: Flip on your back, float to conserve energy, try to calm down, and then follow a safe path to shore.

A few yards away, a firefighter taught another gaggle of students how to toss an orange life ring to anyone struggling in the water. Across the beach, still more kids learned about lifeguarding from a pair of beach veterans.

For the students of Krueger Middle School in Michigan City, just south of the Indiana-Michigan border, it was a fun, if at times sobering, field trip. For Pratt, a retired East Lansing fire marshal who now leads trainings like this across the Midwest — often camping in his pickup truck –  it was another day in his battle against what he calls an “epidemic” of drownings in the Great Lakes.

Memorial Day kicks off the unofficial start of summer, and already this year, at least 17 people have drowned in the Great Lakes — four of them off Michigan shores.

Last year, 88 drowned in the Great Lakes, bringing the tally to 640 since 2010, according to according to data gathered by the Surf Rescue Project, the nonprofit that Pratt founded in 2007 and now runs with Dave Benjamin, an Illinois native who became an advocate after nearly dying while surfing in Lake Michigan.

The Great Lakes are “really more like inland seas than they are a lake, and they pose particular dangers,” said Pratt, who lives with his wife in East Lansing but spends long stretches teaching on the road.

Pratt, who was named the National Drowning Prevention Alliance’s “Lifesaver of the Year” in 2012, has played a key role in regional efforts to make the Great Lakes safer.

If not a “superhero,” Pratt is certainly a “champion,” said Jamie Racklyeft, who leads the 2-year-old Great Lakes Water Safety Consortium, an Michigan-based umbrella  group for researchers and others trying to end Great Lakes drownings.

“He’s been a lifeguard, a fire chief, he’s been a fantastic trainer of all-ages.”

‘So relentless’

Globally, the World Health Organization considers drowning a “vastly neglected area of public health.” And for decades, the same has applied to the Great Lakes, which hold 20 percent of the freshwater on Earth’s surface and have powerful currents.

In some ways, the mammoth lakes are more perilous than oceans, whose salt makes floating easier. Great Lakes waves are typically smaller than those in the ocean, but they come far more frequently, said Pratt. Survivors of near-drownings describe being pummeled.

“The waves were just so relentless,” said Racklyeft, who in 2012 nearly drowned in Lake Michigan while swimming off a beach 25 miles from Traverse City. “They were 4 and 5-feet tall, every five or six seconds.”

Most drowning deaths are preventable, Pratt and other experts say. He’s among those pushing for policies — more life guards and safety equipment on public beaches, more education for kids — to thwart the problem.

“We need to catch up with the education for water safety,” Pratt said.

Diving for data

In an age where Americans with an internet connection have seemingly endless data at their fingertips, Pratt learned the hard way in 2003 that no government agency catalogues drownings on the lakes that touch eight states and two nations.

That was when he drove his son to Grand Haven for some surfing on Lake Michigan. Greeting them when they arrived: U.S. Coast Guard boats and a helicopter scouring the lake in search of a body. The park was closed, Pratt recalled, leaving a small clutch of people on the beach — law enforcement and presumably family members — awaiting news about their loved one who would end up dead.

It wasn’t the first time Pratt, a poor swimmer until taking lifeguarding classes while attending Michigan State University, had witnessed such a search. That day in Grand Haven got him wondering: How many people had drowned on the Great Lakes? Some Googling and other poking around led him nowhere.

“Believe it or not, nobody knew,” he said.

The Centers for Disease Control tracks and categorize all deaths across the U.S., but its data doesn’t shed light on how many happen in the Great Lakes. The National Weather Service tracks Great Lakes incidents specifically related to dangerous currents (12 fatalities, 23 rescues on average each year.)

And Michigan state health data show 125 accidental drownings statewide in 2016 in any water.

Today, Pratt’s group keeps a comprehensive database of Great Lakes drownings. It includes those who die shortly after a rescue — from conditions clearly caused by their struggle in the water –  but not obvious suicides. He scours news reports and other official sources for data, and sometimes gets tips from friends or others on-the-ground. Armed with the information, he can tailor his message to those who most need to hear it.

From the data he knows:

Great Lakes drowning victims are overwhelmingly male —  Pratt suspects they’re more prone to showboating or carrying out dares.

The majority of drownings happen near the shoreline, typically involving bathers, kayakers, paddle boarders or surfers.

Life jackets save lives. Only seven of the drownings since 2010 involved people wearing life jackets, and most of those were due to cold waters.

Not surprisingly, drownings tend to spike when the weather is warm and waves are high, conditions more likely to drive people to the beach.

Some 296 of the documented Great Lakes drownings since 2010 were in Lake Michigan, with a significant share along its southern shore — largely, Pratt said, because the lake has so much usable beach and relatively high populations nearby.

That’s 10 times the death toll from the 1975 wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald, the Lake Superior freighter immortalized by Canadian songwriter Gordon Lightfoot. Lake Michigan in each of the last two years has seen 40 or more drownings.

An online relationship

Pratt founded the Great Lakes Surf Rescue Project in 2007, in association with theGreat Lakes Surfing Association. As he dug into data, he also trained surfers and attended a slew of conferences.

Along the way, he met Benjamin, a longtime surfer, through postings on an online surfing forum. After organizing a few safety trainings together, they fully teamed up at the nonprofit.

“It’s one of those successful online relationships,” joked Benjamin, who manages projects and handles public relations.

Benjamin poured his energy into Great Lakes safety after nearly becoming another Lake Michigan casualty in December 2010, shortly after his 40th birthday.

Knocked off his surfboard and fighting a current in 35-degree water that felt like razor blades through his wetsuit, he held onto what he thought was his final breath. But as a whirlwind of thoughts churned in his mind, one memory stood out: an article by Mario Vitone, a sea survival expert.

Benjamin remembered to flip on his back, inflate his lungs and float.  About 40 excruciating minutes later, he managed to crawl back ashore.

“After that drowning accident, it’s just like borrowed time,” Benjamin said. “Another way I phrase it is ‘this is what I have left to do.’”

For both men, their work is a labor of love and some frustration. Both believe Great Lakes-area governments should invest more in water safety.

“Millions of dollars are spent each year to bring more people to water, with billions of dollars in return,” said Benjamin. “Yet when something happens, we blame the victim or the parents or caregivers, and we don’t fund anything.”

Neither Pratt nor Benjamin draw a salary. The nonprofit raised $83,000 last year, including the donation of a truck, Benjamin said. This year, it’s holding many of its trainings in Indiana thanks to a $50,000 matching grant from the state.

Benjamin pays his bills through commercial painting, though he says he’s rapidly losing contracts as he spends more time on the road. Until recently, Pratt, who retired from the East Lansing Fire Department in 2012, did lawn care to supplement his income.

That’s partially why, instead of paying for a hotel, he camped out in his truck the Tuesday night before teaching the Krueger middle schoolers earlier this month at the lake he respects so much.

“It’s such a big, beautiful body of water,” he said. “But it’s also so dangerous.”

(source: Bridge Magazine)