Thursday, November 3, 2016


I think my Mom was a bit of a saint.  She had a friend who would call her now and again just to talk. Mom said the friend, Mary, got depressed or sad at times and just needed to talk.  Mary seemed to know that Mom would listen to her.  Mary always seemed to call at the right time.  There was only a land line with no called ID. The phone call was usually a long one, but Mom felt that when Mary finished, things were good.  I don't think that Mom had an elaborate prayer life of meditation or scripture reading, but she seemed to have compassion and empathy, that I, with all my prayer and priesthood still lack spontaneously.  I have to be in "a good space" to be able to listen to someone who just needed to talk.  Technology now helps people like me to be somewhat helpful to others as my mom seemed able to do naturally.  If they call on my cell, I can see the name, and decide if I "am in a good space."  You don't want to talk with me when I am in a bad space.  I seem to have more good space times each day as I take care of my spiritual practice which includes taking a look at my shortcomings, alone or with friends who like me are trudging along.  Nothing like other people to remind me of my humanness.  I bet I am not alone in struggling for "a good space.  Fess up!

1 comment:

  1. Your Mom was just like my Mom. You knew my Mom. In Knoxville. You wrote about her in one of your blogs. We are both lucky to have been raised by such amazing women.