Reflections on loving God, being Catholic, being a woman, being ill, loving life and anything else that comes to mind.

Saturday, November 07, 2009

40 Days for Freedom: A Post I'd Rather Not Write

I have no photos of my mother. She died when I was so young. I survived with my life, with the clothes on my back - alone, abandoned, left in God's care. And God has done well. God has done very well. I might be a bitter, cruel woman intent on exacting revenge on a world that stole so much from me. Instead I am happy, joyous, full of life and wonder and gratitude. I know God loves me. I know people love me. I know my parents' faith was not in vain; my legacy is Christ Himself and He has been, is, will always be everything they wanted for me and so much more.

But sometimes, especially since my health has declined, I miss them. I miss them so much. I miss Marmar in particular. There are days I just barely drag myself through and I wish she was here with me. There are nights, such as tonight, when I can't sleep and I long for her presence. Several years ago, a friend gave me a Madonna and Child medal that I wore on a silver chain about my neck. When I felt nervous or lonely, I fingered it. Sometimes friends would glance over at me and see it balanced on my nose - I don't know why I'd do that, I just did. It comforted me and actually did remind me of my mother. I no longer have that medal.

Yesterday I went to D.C. After the rally, we were invited to stop by our representative's offices and I wanted to pay a visit to Nancy Pelosi. Many others did as well and I found myself straggling along behind several new friends. As I walked, I felt I wanted to give her something and wished I had brought a Miraculous Medal for her. Then I remembered the medal around my neck. At first I was appalled to think of giving it to her. But then I knew, she really needs a mother far more than I do. So I decided if I got in and if there was an opportunity, I'd give it to her.

We weren't allowed to just go into the Speaker's office. We were told to keep against the right wall and wait; she wasn't accepting visitors. Some said they wanted us to go away but we had come to visit her and weren't leaving. When told we could leave notes for the Speaker on a table, we began to write. I asked one of the many armed guards if I might leave the speaker a gift? I showed them my medal and asked if she would get it. They were hesitant. My new friends said she wouldn't appreciate it. But I asked, does she need it? They replied, Yes. Yes, she did need it. I wrote my note and waited.

Finally they allowed us to go into the office four at a time and sign the guestbook. When it was my turn, I asked the young man behind the desk if I the Speaker would receive the medal. He said he'd take it and pass it on. His demeanor was one of disdain, distance. Someone said the staff hadn't been prepared for this and I quite believed it just looking at that young man's closed demeanor. I took off my medal, handed it to him and told him about losing my mother and being given the medal as a reminder but that I thought Speaker Pelosi needed a mother more than I did. I asked him to tell her about it.

She does need it. She so badly needs it. I miss my medal, it's abscence is a searing pain. But neither Marmar's nor Our Blessed Mother's love are in that medal. I miss only an accustomed reminder. But what does Nancy Pelosi miss? How hard her heart must be?

I keep thinking and having the impression that she doesn't care, that she no longer values her soul. I keep having the impression that the thing to do is let her and those like her go the way they've chosen; to leave them to God's mercy and give my energy to those who simply don't know what to do in this bizarro world version of the United States.

Fasting means going without. It's been pretty easy for me to go without that chocolate as long as I don't think about it. It is not so easy to forget my medal; I feel exposed. But if that's what it takes to become the kind of person who does her part to care for the immense gift God has given me as a citizen of the United States, then I'll fast from my medal.

And I remain a hopeful beast: I'll hope God uses it to touch some person's life. Our Mother is exceedingly capable and the Sacred Heart is on the back of the medal so it's just chock full of reminders, of powerful blasts of God's love. And the Holy Father blessed it when he came to New York so there's even more powerful goodness waiting to call someone, maybe many someones back to life.

"Lord God, have mercy on what you have fashioned, have mercy on the children of men, have mercy on you own image." from the Apocalypse of Paul (4th Century)


Anonymous said...

Beautiful. All of it, and you. I'll pray for the Pelosis.

Georgia said...

Your 'widow's mite' was a great sacrifice that was seen and fully appreciated by The Father, Lord and Ruler of ALL who loves us with a true, faithful, complete and holy Father's and Mother's love that not even the most godly parent can supply. (Isaiah 49:15-16, Psalm 27:10, Luke 13:34 and more)

In His economy, such a lavish loving holy gift will be magnified, translated into spiritual power in the battle against evil.

Thank you, Drusilla, for sharing your riches (your testimony, gifts of writing, your life in Christ, insight, struggles, joys) and for being a model for me.

Anonymous said...

Don't ever second-guess yourself on giving Pelosi that part of her own life she's forgotten, ok? It's a sign of love, a visible and tangible sign. The Lord said whatever we give up for the Kingdom, we'll get back a hundredfold.. maybe even in this life. So, maybe one day you'll see her balance it on her nose when she's deep in thought.

Drusilla said...

Thank you for your kindness. I never thought to do anything except give her something because it was so obvious that she is in need. Only afterwards do I realize that I gave her something which means so very much to me and that I hope, with enduring faith, to someday see her deep in thought balancing it on her nose. How lovely that would be.

Anonymous said...


God bless you.