Anna's Story - Part 5

Part 5

(Anna Smithson is moving forward after her mother's death and her boyfriend's abrupt departure.  She has grown-up decisions to make.)

Aunt Catherine called.  She wanted to know what Anna was going to do about her mother’s house.  At first, Anna was a little perturbed, but she quelled the resentment and listened to her aunt.  Anna was stubborn and she was well aware of that fault.

 “It is a lovely little house,” Catherine said.  “It needs some updating but it would be such a good investment for you, Anna.  If you change your mind after a while, you could always put it on the market then.  It would be better than throwing good money away on an apartment.”

“I know.  I’ve been thinking about that.  You’re right.  I’ll let Melvin know that I’m going to move to the house.  There’s a lady at work and her husband does really good work, remodeling.  I’ll have him take a look at it and maybe get the work done before I move in.  That way the place would be clean and fresh.  The bathroom needs a makeover, don’t you think?”

 “It sure does.  And also it needs a new color on the walls.  The kitchen should be completely gutted, Anna, truth be told.  Do something more edgy in there, something with stainless steel and granite.  Tile floors maybe?” she continued.  “Get some home type magazines and check them out.  And check online too.  There will be a lot of ideas.  Your mom was sick of everything too, I think, but she just didn’t want to be bothered.”

“Aunt Catherine, since when did you become a designer?” Anna asked.

Her aunt’s laugh bubbled all the way from California to Ohio.  “I get magazines, honestly that’s it.  And I watch those home improvement shows on TV all the time.  Rubs off, I guess.  I didn’t even realize it!”

“You might have missed your calling in life, Catherine,” Anna said.

“And I don’t want you to miss yours,” Catherine answered.

 

Anna's Story - Part 4

Part 4 -

 

Why was everyone hurrying her so, Anna questioned?  What was the big hurry in making a decision about her mother’s house and all of the things in it? 

The week she was off work after the funeral, she went to the house often.  It felt so strange to use a key to enter, when her mother had always left the front door unlocked for her.  She sat in the usual chair in the living room where they’d had so many conversations, some of them rather heated.  The smell of the house was also the smell of her mother – a light flowery scent from a perfume that her mother had used for years.  The dining room looked ready to host a small dinner for the two of them, or maybe once in a while a trio with Jeremy also.

And why hadn’t Jeremy told her that he wasn’t sure about their relationship?  Why did he just continue on or had he?  Was she just so preoccupied with her job and the routines of her life that she hadn’t noticed him distancing himself?  Increasingly, he had spent time at a gym after work and also on the weekends.  She wasn’t a member; her exercise consisted of long walks instead at a nearby park.  He had stopped talking about marriage for a long while.  He seemed bored sometimes and had his head buried in a newspaper or was watching TV, especially sports.  Sunday mornings were always so strange.  He left for the gym and she felt like something more than his presence was missing.  After all of those years of attending Mass on Sundays, the void it left was still there but she wouldn’t go.  She felt like everyone there knew she “lived” with someone.  All she needed was a red letter for her coat.

Back in days gone by like maybe the Victorian era, a woman 28 was already on the shelf.  An embarrassment to her family in many cases.  Unwanted.  And Anna felt like that but she and Jeremy had never had a serious discussion of their feelings for each other in years, but they exchanged a robotic, “Love ‘ya,” at night before bed or in the morning before work sometimes.  She imagined one of those amazing surprises where they would go to a 5-star restaurant and he’d drop down on one knee in front of everyone, holding out a magnificent diamond engagement ring.  Things like that happened to the women at work, one by one.

 He must have met the woman at the gym.  Maybe that’s why he was so enthusiastic about going, and he started wearing cologne.  To the gym, she thought?  And he’d purchased some new clothes too, including some workout items. 

 How foolish Anna felt.  Did he tell his friends about how bored he was with her?  Probably.  Was she that boring? 

Part Three - Anna's Story

Part Three

(Anna Smithson is 28 and her mother died of cancer.  Her boyfriend left her behind for someone else.  She is an accountant and now lives alone.)

“I have my mother’s clothing,” Anna told the funeral home director.  “And I have some things to place in the coffin – a picture of my mother and father and a special prayer she loved.”  The director thanked her and then had her go to the room with him where the coffins were displayed.  She chose a wooden one with an ivory interior; the wood grain gave it more character, she thought.

At 28, Anna had never needed to prepare for a funeral before.  When her father died, her mother had done everything so effortlessly, as though she had prepared for it all her life.  Her mother had channeled the grief into action and made it through the calling hours and the Mass before she finally broke down at home and stayed in bed for a week. 

Anna’s job as an accountant was a stressful one and she knew although they had told her she could take as much time as she needed, that she would have maybe that one week to get her head together before returning.  Otherwise, by the time she got back the workload would be so backed up that any rest she got would be quickly erased. 

 At the calling hours, Anna felt fortunate that her mother’s widowed sister, Catherine, came from California.  Even though Lois Smithson and her sister had never been all that close, Catherine felt an obligation to attend and she didn’t want Anna to be alone for another.  Surprisingly, quite a few came and many of them seemed to know her mother better than she did in some respects.

“Your mother always worried about you, dear,” one kind woman told Anna.  “She loved you so much and prayed for you all the time.” 

 “I loved your mother’s cooking,” another one told her.  “She always put the most interesting things into it, like turnips.  Who would think to do that?” she added. 

 

"We are really going to miss your mother and especially her sense of humor," another said.

 

A part of Anna was thankful for their comments; a part of her was not.  After she moved in with Jeremy and she knew her mother wasn't happy about it, she didn't spend as much time with her as she might have.  The sense of humor comment really bothered her, because she realized that she hadn't seen that much of that side of her mother in a long, long time.  She also realized that she had been a source of her mother's concern to a degree she hadn't considered.

 The calling hours ended at 9:00 and then the funeral Mass was the next morning at 10:00 a.m.  Her mother was buried next to her father in the church cemetery a few blocks away.  Catherine insisted on paying for a luncheon for anyone who wanted to come, and there were about 50.  And then it was over and Catherine flew back to California.

Jeremy who knew her mother quite well didn’t come.

Anna's Story - Part Two

This is part two of Anna's story -- a woman who has reason to be disappointed with her life at this point.  Let's see what's going on today:

Anna Smithson had become almost like a hermit.  A set of happenings had changed everything for her.  First, a long-time boyfriend suddenly called off their relationship, moved out and quickly married someone else.  With that blow still very fresh, her mother told her one afternoon, almost as a by-the-way that she had cancer.  Always a woman very much in charge, her mother got treatment for the cancer which was centered in her bowel, but at some point along the way she halted everything and told Anna that she had made her peace with the disease. 

 That didn’t set well and Anna had begged her mother to continue, but her mother wouldn’t be dissuaded – it was time for her to see Anna’s father again, she said. 

 “But Mom, the doctors told me that they have something else they might be able to try,” Anna pleaded.  “You might qualify to be part of a trial drug.”

“Anna, I know this must be terribly hard for you, but I am not strong when it comes to illness.  You know yourself I’ve always been so well.  These trips to the doctor’s office and to the hospital are just leaving me so tired and weak.  It’s just too much for me, and I hope you won’t hate me for this decision I’ve made, she said.  “I’ve thought about this a lot and it’s the right thing for me.”

At that, Anna became quiet.  Her mother moved closer toward her only daughter on the living room couch and put her arm around her. 

“I’ll miss you so much, Anna.  But in heaven I can pray for you and for everyone,” her mother said.

Her mother’s condition deteriorated very quickly after that, and in her final days at a nearby hospice, she was heavily medicated to control the pain.  Still, she seemed restless at times and needed to talk, especially in the evenings since she could see the setting sun from her room.

“Anna, you know I’ve kept quiet about ‘everything,’ but you have to make me a promise and then make it to yourself.  You’ll go back to church.  You’ll find your true purpose.  And don’t blame God for Jeremy leaving and don’t blame God for my cancer,” she whispered. 

“Oh, Mom,” Anna said.

 “Anna, all things work into a pattern of good for those who know and serve the Lord.  And it is so true, so right,” her mother said.

 Later that same day, her mother slipped into a coma and died on a Friday evening with red sun’s rays disappearing over the horizon.

Anna's Story

Sorry about this morning!!  I honestly forgot to post the start of the story that I promised.  Hope you can all forgive me for my lapse.  So this late posting on Wednesday counts for tomorrow.

Anna's Story

Part One

The woman sat in the second to the last pew on St. Joseph’s side, the toe of her shoe just outside the imaginary line that followed the rows of pews to the altar.  As though by doing so, she could bolt out of church at a moment’s notice.  She was alone and felt very much so.  Quickly looking about, it seemed to her that every other person in church was with someone, and like a lone diner in a fancy restaurant, she felt self-conscious. 

 

As the Mass went along, she followed in the missal and softly said the prayers in response to the priest.  She did not sing but she listened and let her heart rise and fall with the lilting melodies.  At the sign of peace, a jovial-looking woman sitting by her side thrust her large hand toward her in a gesture of welcome, and they shook hands.  A gentleman in front of her turned around and offered her his hand as well.  She watched as a cherubic blond-haired child gave her mother a kiss and hugged her neck tight.  During Communion, she rose only to let the others in her pew get out. 

 

Her presence at Mass was not the norm; in fact, it was the first time in eight years that she had attended.  A few of the spoken parts had changed but overall the experience was familiar and comforting.  Perhaps, she hoped, it was time to heal, to move forward.  She pushed away the negative thoughts that pummeled her, the ones that were making her second guess the decision to attend, and she made a solemn vow to God – I’ll be back next week.  The last stanza of the closing song still playing in her head, she walked slowly to her car and headed to her apartment.

New Idea

For the blog, I've been thinking about doing something a little different, but I didn't want to spring it on my loyal readers without a warning.

How about we have a work of fiction and each day we get a little farther into the story?  In other words, the way you would read a book on vacation -- a segment at a time.  I'm not sure how long it will last, maybe a couple of weeks?  But here's the thing.  I want to hear from you as to whether or not you like it once we get going tomorrow.  If it doesn't work, then we'll return to the usual format.

You can easily reach me (if you don't want to use the "comment" that goes along with the blog) at knelsen@uakron.edu.  I read my emails at least once a day. 

Also, if you have any ideas for the blog or subject matter that you would like to see explored, that would be great too.

So that's it for today, other than a comment from me on the news lately.  Is it just because it's summer or have there been an awful lot of murders lately?  And some of them involve really little kids which is heartbreaking. 

God gave us the ten commandments.  He gave them to the Israelites while they were seeking a place of peace from persecution, while they were nomads without a home.  They are a marvelous guidepost for us in succinct form.  According to a website about the commandments, it states that they are the very minimum of behavior to live a Christian life, but they are far from everything. 

1. I am the LORD your God. You shall worship the Lord your God and Him only shall you serve. 
2. You shall not take the name of the Lord your God in vain.
3. Remember to keep holy the Sabbath day. 
4. Honor your father and your mother.
5. You shall not kill.
6. You shall not commit adultery.
7. You shall not steal.
8. You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor.
9. You shall not covet your neighbor's wife.
10. You shall not covet your neighbor's goods.

According to a website I visited about the ten commandments, "Again, the Ten Commandments are a description of the basic freedom from sin that is necessary to live as a Christian. They are a minimum level of living, below which we must not go."  It also states that each of the commandments is a summary of an entire category of actions. 

The example the site gives is that #8, bearing false witness, refers to any sort of falsehood including lying, perjury, slander, rash judgment, etc.  It's worth a review of all of this once in a while; it was for me today.

So tomorrow -- we will begin with the story.  See you then.

Mysterious Priest

If you have ever read one of Joan Wester Anderson's books about angels, they all have a very familiar ring to them.  And always, the angels disappear in the same exact way -- quickly and without any notice.

Recently, a terrible car crash in Missouri left a young woman trapped in her vehicle for quite a while.  The firefighters on the scene were further frustrated when their equipment (Jaws of Life) failed.  The young woman fully conscious and realizing her situation asked her rescuers to pray with her.  According to those around her, she was fading.  At almost that very moment a Catholic priest came to the scene and helped both the victim and her rescuers.

He anointed the woman with oil and said the prayers of the Last Rites of the church, and he prayed with the rescuers as well, bringing peace and calm to the scene.  Just then the Hannibal, Missouri firefighters arrived with a fresh set of jaws and set to work on Katie Lenz's older Mercedes.  In no time at all, they had extricated her from between the steering wheel and the dash and she was whisked off to the hospital where she continues to recover from her injuries that include several broken bones.

Just as they had succeeded, they turned toward where the priest had been standing to thank him and he was gone.  Traffic was backed up for at least a quarter of a mile and there were no cars parked anywhere nearby.  Where could he have come from?  The rescuers clearly saw him and interacted with him, and they are very amazed by what happened.  Some are calling it a miracle.  Ms. Lenz is telling people to pray loud and often.

Was the priest an angel?  As I mentioned above, the story has that same ring to it that Joan Anderson's do. 

Ms. Lenz's life will never be the same because of this single moment when she was hit by a drunk driver.  And rather than being embittered and angry, she seems to be filled with joy and an appreciation for her life. 

The Lord does indeed work in mysterious ways.  And as for me, I believe!!