305/365 Mass of Remembrance

I found the easel, with Sal's help, in the kitchen. Of course. It must have been there for the chili cookoff. So I extracted myself from the conversation with Sal: We decorating church on Sunday? Before Christmas, yes. We going to put up the trees and the wreaths? Yup. Sure are. I'll be there. Sr. Hildegard told me not to touch the trees! I don't touch them! I didn't touch them last year! I have a rotating number of conversations with Sal, who is developmentally disabled, in his late 50s/early 60s and has been our janitor for probably forever; he lives in short walking distance with his sister's family.

Sr. Vanda was upstairs when I got back up with the easel. Ursula and Carlotta were setting up for the reception after the mass. They do beautiful work. Vanda told me all about her worries yesterday and how glad she was that I hadn't forgotten. I have yet to forget this, and every year she worries I'm going to forget. But not in a mean way. She just wants it to go well.

I got the rest of the seasonal corner ready, and went back to light candles to place in the candle stands behind the table where folks can place photos of those who have died. I thought about how we'd had to print a picture of Tom out from a Belleville diocese website, that we hadn't had a photo and the last moment I'm cutting printer paper and trying to find a frame.

I stood in the priests' sacristy and lit the candles. And one of those "I am in the right place" moments happened in my heart, the kind of moment that happened all the time the first year I worked at our parish in this capacity but hasn't in a long time. I lit the candles and put the burnt match on the aluminum sink draining board.And carried the candles out to the table where I put everything just so.Normally I would have stayed, but this weekend, next weekend, all weekends are so busy. Sr. Vanda asked if I'd carry in the incenser (incensor?), but I just couldn't.

"I'll mark you down for next year," she promised, not offered, me.

"That would be fine," I agreed. I like the task. I just couldn't rearrange the time today.

The conversation turned to Infant of Prague and what statues used to be in the nave of church and what I knew about the architecture--could I give a tour if need be?--and I thought I probably could. St. Joseph statues came up, and then we stood there staring at the still-dim church ready for this one last ceremony for those who have died. I thought about my grandfather and how he'd had three memorial masses and ceremonies, that it never seemed to be officially over, I mean, he died in February and there was one then, there was on in May for all the people who donated bodies to science at SLU, and then one when I was in labor with Maeve in October when they buried remains at the national cemetery.

I missed all three of them.

I told Sr. Vanda I'd see her later and made my exit. Tae Kwon Do and housework awaited. I turned off the radio when I started the ignition in the car. Didn't need the noise.