Posted on January 8, 2014 under Storytelling with no comments yet

The ranks are thinning out with no farm team in sight.  A combination of demographics and scandals has reduced the number of attendees at Catholic Churches throughout North America.  I see it every week from my perch in the choir loft.  Row upon row of empty pews, with scarcely a hint of any young people.  It wasn’t all that long ago that things were very different.

In nomine Patris, et Filii’ et Spiritus Sancti.   Amen

Back in the ‘60’s, Saturday night was notable for two reasons; everyone watched the hockey game and just about everyone shined their shoes in preparation for church.  There was only one hockey channel and six teams, and hockey was the next closest thing to religion.  And speaking of religion, in our family of ten it was imperative to have shiny shoes for Sunday Mass.

We each took turns applying shoe polish to our shoes and letting them sit for a few hours before the final buffing and shining.  It was not uncommon to see all 10 pairs sitting side by side on an old piece of newspaper.  I can still smell the shoe polish vividly.

Introibo ad altare Dei.  Ad Deum qui laetificat, juventutem meum.

We marched into the church like a well-oiled army and took our seats in our pew.  Don’t be mistaken.  We didn’t actually own the pew, but we might as well have.  We occupied an entire row of seats and it was a given that the middle row in aisle 24, was “reserved” for the P.D. clan.  This delicate balance could be upset if an unsuspecting tourist happened to be sitting there when we arrived.  No problem.  We just filed in as usual with the tourist being progressively nudged until he found himself standing in the main aisle of the church.

Kyrie eleison.  Christe eleison.

As young children, we weren’t completely sure why we were attending Mass.  So you can imagine our consternation when the priest started speaking in a language we didn’t understand.  Several of us became altar servers which helped with our mastery of Latin.  And then, in 1964, on the heels of the Second Vatican Council, English became the official language for the Mass in our part of the world.

Father Stanley and Fr, Regis arrived on the scene as curates in our parish.  They could deliver a dynamic sermon and then join us on the football field to deliver body blows.  They were passionate about religion and sports; evidence of their Cape Breton roots.

Dominus vobiscum.  Et cum spiritu tuo.

Midnight Mass was a big deal and you had to get to the church early to get a good seat.  And when the Mass was over, we always went back home and wolfed down rabbit pie before heading to bed.  No wonder none of the family sleep well to this day when you consider some of our strange eating habits from days gone by.

Some of us still go to church even if it does not have the mass appeal it once had.

Ite missa est.  Deo gratias.

Amen.

 

 

Posted on January 7, 2014 under News & Updates with no comments yet

I know. I should just put a picture of Betty with this blurb and everyone will read it.

Those of you who read my website posts know a few things about me…probably too much! My marathon training taught me many things including consistency and discipline. I have tried to apply some of the same things to my writing. So, without fail, I publish Monday Morning Musings on Mondays. Tuesday , I normally publish a story. Wednesday you get a day off. On Thursday, it’s Thursday Tidbits. Occasionally I do a TGIF on Fridays and Saturday is my second story day of the week. And like the our creator, I rest on Sundays. In other words, I am predictable.

Starting this week, I will be changing things up… slightly. As you know, I write a column for The Casket every other week so beginning this week, every other week I will be posting a story on Wednesday to coincide with my Casket story. They changed their publication day from Tuesday to Wednesday. Got that?

By the way, I wrote a beauty today while eating my lunch. Confession time. I was stopped by the Mounties a few weeks ago while travelling through Cape Breton and got busted for using a cell phone. You’ll see the details in the story. I NEVER use the phone, text or e-mail while driving and my phone log will show this if I decide to defend myself. I have nearly been  run over in intersections more than once by inattentaive driver so I heartily endorse enforcement. I totally understand that having distractions while driving is a hazard. So when I saw a driver with his Golden Retriever in his lap virtually driving his truck, I got to thinking. If this doesn’t constitute distraction, I don’t know what does. The story is called ” Driven to Distraction.”

And Norma Jean keeps new story ideas coming my way every time she opens her mouth. Will I ever run out of story ideas? Nope. Not as long as NJ is alive and kicking.

OK. We’ll see you tomorrow. “Mass Appeal.”

Posted on January 6, 2014 under Monday Morning Musings with one comment

When do you do your best thinking? On a solitary road trip to the city? During a walk in the woods or a long run on the back roads? Gardening ( not so much in January! ). Early in the morning before the world speeds up or late at night when the house falls silent? At certain times in ones life ( when you’re raising a young family ), it seems like there’s never time for contemplation. For many people, the bathroom in general and the shower in particular, is the place where many ideas are hatched. Coming up soon, the story called ” A Splash of Inspiration.”

My New Years Eve story ” The Longest Day” hit home with a lot of you. I received a lot of comments and it sounds like many of you shared similar experiences.

And coming this Wednesday, is the story “Mass Appeal” which recounts the rituals around getting ready for mass and attending mass back in the day when Latin masses were the norm.

It seems like the weather is the dominant theme these days now that Rob Ford has quietly slipped into the background. It continues to amaze me the depths of whining and complaining that’s out there. It almost seems like people are surprised with the snow and cold. Spoiler alert: we live in a Northern climate. There are many people who have a legitimate right to complain. When the power is out, it is not only inconvenient for people but life threatening for some. The elderly, the infirmed and people who need electricity to run medical equipment like oxygen tanks are at risk.  People with mobility issues are basically held hostage when the roads and sidewalks become virtually impassable. And being trapped indoors can be particularly difficulty for people who suffer from mental health issues.

May I humbly suggest to the rest of us who are blessed with warm houses, food on our table and who enjoy good health…. please give the whining and complaining a rest. It doesn’t achieve anything.

Instead follow the lead of K.G. and make yourself a “gratitude jar” and on a daily basis drop a small piece of paper into it with something that happened to you that makes you grateful. I am on day 5 with my own. The more that you articulate gratefulness, the happier you will become. Go ahead. Try it. You might surprise yourself.

And if you are suffering from the January blahs and a Christmas/New Years hangover ( not a real hangover… the psychological kind ), go and do something for somebody. Help someone shovel their driveway ( because you haven’t had enough of your own to deal with! ). Volunteer for an organization or just say something positive to someone you bump into.

Have a great week.