Musings before leaving WV

Today is my last night here in West Virginia, and I would like to reflect upon it at least to an extent. Today has been a day of triumph and a day of sorrows, and I am honestly not sure which is greater.

Anyhow, I've also been deathly afraid that grandma will forget me while I am away in Pennsylvania doing my doctoral program, and that by Christmas, with the way that her mind has been slipping, she would not be able to remember who I was. Well today I was supposed to call her to see if we could go over to wish her goodbye, since I won't see her tomorrow...so I called, I said hello, she said hello, and I asked if I could come over. She responded by asking who I was...I was devastated. She didn't know who I was! I haven't even left yet, and her mind is already that bad! I wanted to break down right there and cry my eyes out, to bawl and bawl and not stop, but I did not. Dad asked what had happened, and proceeded to make fun of me for reacting badly and of her for the memory loss with the familiar refrain of "She's your grandmother, she even says she has no mind". Once she recalled me, she of course wanted us to come over, but still...it was bad in my mind, and the whole time I was on the verge of tears. She asked me about five times in ten minutes if I wanted to look at the newspaper, and my response was always the same, "No thank you grandma, I already read it back at the house. But thanks for thinking of me!" No sarcasm, just trying to sound perkier and happier than I was, given my only living grandparent didn't know who I was at first. By Christmas, will she know who I am?

Today I went to mom's church as well, to hear her sing a duet. For the sake of the innocent, I will not mention the church name, just that it is Methodist in nature. For those who are unfamiliar with the Catholic church, you're not supposed to take Communion in Protestant churches, due to the fact they do not believe in transubstantiation, the real Presence of Christ in holy Communion. So I did not go up for Communion, and the dirty looks and horrible way I was treated over it, the nasty comments and such...it was astounding. I was suddenly reminded of all the shame I was put through when I grew up as a Baptist and waited so long to go forward for Baptism, not taking Communion until after I was baptised; the stares on the first Sunday of each month. But that was not as bad as the sheer open hostility of today: the glares, the comments, the spite...people were treating the schizophrenic off his meds who threatened to slit my throat when I was a baby better than they were treating me.

I nearly came home to write an anonymous letter to the pastor, expressing my disgust that his congregation was so hostile to a guest. The Bible is so filled with commands to treat a guest with dignity and respect, warning that sometimes you may even be entertaining angels in disguise. Not to be prideful, but to compare...at Easter Vigil I sat in the back of my parish, and I treated the Protestant guests with every respect, helped keep their little kids occupied and made sure they had warning when we were going to stand or sit and such. I went out of my way to be hospitable, and then when I went to a Methodist church to hear my mother sing...mom and her friends were the only ones who extended that same courtesy to me, along with her pastor briefly.

Anyhow, I went to Mass for the last time at Immaculate Conception today. It was somewhat overcast when I went in, giving it an appearance of darkness outside, but the weather cleared as the Mass continued onward...that's what I have loved about my Sunday morning 7am Mass. It's always reminded me in a symbolic way of the fact that the Light will overcome the darkness. And, much like saying goodbye to BMCs...it was kind of painful. I've come to realize since the break up and break off, that God and the serenity of the Mass and Adoration have become my source of strength, the only places where I can truly feel at peace and like I have no worries. And both go far too fast for my liking, because once I leave those places, I have to go face the world again with all of its challenges and all of my fears.

My priest hugged me after Mass today, which was nice of him. I'm going to miss his sage advice and kind listening ear, he's helped me through so many issues with my dad. He also co-taught my RCIA class, and is a fellow convert, who truly knew what it was like to go through the process, and how challenging it can be, even with familial support. I'll miss him, and count myself fortunate to have known him.

Anyhow...tomorrow is the day, I should get going. Wake up at 7:20, go get the uHaul at 7:30, then loading it up and heading to Pennsylvania.