March 19, 2013

19 Mar

Hello Moother,

I can’t stop thinking about you. It’s been really tough these past few days–weeks really. On Friday, I drove to Florida to be at the memorial mass at Holy Family. Father Eddie did a wonderful job with the mass. He said some very beautiful things and referred to you a few times as a saint. 

The readings were also very beautiful. I don’t know who chose them, but they read Proverbs 31:10-31 which is the “The Good Wife” and a letter to the Romans about suffering which brings you closer to God. 

Miss Pat played the most beautiful songs and sang them with so much heart, as she always does. It was nice to see familiar faces. I was a bit disappointed that only one friend, Katrina, made it. I was surprised that my closer friends who live in our hometown would have made it. 

As nice as the mass was, it was very painful. I felt the same pain that I did when we buried you in Canada. The mass was very good for those who attended. It gave them closure, or peace of mine–it gave them something. I don’t think I can ever have any of those things. 

The most painful part of the weekend however was not the service. It was walking into the house and knowing you weren’t there. Knowing you weren’t going to be coming back from an errand or work. Ever. 

As I lay in bed, all I kept thinking about was how you returned to your parents’ house for almost thirty years without losing your mind. How the hell did you that? I never noticed you in any kind of pain at Nonno Pepino’s house. In fact, I was so foolish I didn’t even realize that it would have even been painful. 

I would love to keep chatting, but I have a mountain of things to tackle in the next few days so I’ll check in with you as soon as can. 

Love you,


p.s. Please come visit me soon. 



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