Daddy

My mother always told me never to compare myself to others. This usually happened when I tried to use the old "everyone did poorly on this test, so if you think about it, I did pretty well" trick. I don't think I ever heard my dad say that though. So here is a list of reasons why my dad is cooler than your dad. Happy Father's Day, daddy.

daughter and daddy atop Grandfather Mountain in N.C.

-He collects Victrolas. He also has a walk in closet full of vinyls to play in his room full of Victrolas.
-He is always the first one to pull out the rosary on family road trips.
-He beat up a guy who tried to rob him at gun point. I think he might be batman. If you want to see the news story, I'll send you the video.
-He loves our mailbox. He built our mailbox. My grandmother ran into the mailbox in her Buick, and the car was dented, the mailbox was fine. He really loves that mailbox. It's a healthy pride.
-He laughed so hard once, he passed out. I can only aspire to laugh so hard.
-He bought a 1967 VW Bug, sight unseen, flew from Virginia to California to pick it up, and drove it back from California to Virginia. I wouldn't be surprised if he picked up a hitch hiker or two along the way.
-He has run a couple marathons.
-He got his first job at Burger King.
-He got a job that required our family to be near the ocean at all times.
-He was in the seminary. I'm glad that didn't work out.
-He shakes when he laughs.
-He is passionate about life. Living it, defending it, and enjoying it.
-He can fix anything.
-He always brings back presents for us kiddos when he travels.
-He uses the word whatchamacallit more than 'the' or 'and'.
-He reads more books than anyone I know.
-He loves inviting those Jehova's witness types into our house when they knock on our door, and tries to evangelize them for the Catholic Church. Rock on, daddio.
-He is always warm, wonderful for snuggling. We call him the human heater.
-He always answers my big life questions with, "whatever God's will is".
-He always answers my little life questions with, "whatever God's will is."
-He joins us kiddos in making our family's traditional farting noises every time we cross a state line.
-He says the reason he had children was so he could make them bring him his beer. I'm not sure if it's a joke, but if it is, gosh he's funny.
-He gets all emotional-in-a-macho-way when a large group of people sings a classic hymn or the national anthem.
-He stuffed a kid in a trashcan once, but he swears it was his friend, and his friend asked him to do it because he thought it would be funny. I want to hang out with people like that too. (The principal didn't believe them)

dad giving big brother "the death grip", not to be confused with "the alien face grip"

I could go on and on with more awesome things, like the time he got all of my friends out of trouble for being at a party in high school, because he just laughed it up to all the other parents, reminding them that it's really just a funny story when you think about it.

But in all seriousness, my dad is more than just a great guy. He is a good man. He loves God above all things, and that love for Christ and His Church spills over into his family. My brothers and I can sincerely say we had a childhood full of love. The family unit is so vitally important to an individual's well being, and I am blessed enough to have a strong and loving father leading his family. I love you daddy. Thanks for being weirdly cool.

toastmaster

True friendship

I read this in Italy, in my Magnificat. It was like a little piece of home, because I could agree with the words based on my own experiences, particularly in college. And because it was in English. I hope these words resonate with you as strongly as they did with me.

"Real friendship is very rare, extremely rare in history, for it calls for natures that are already very lofty, and it elevates them still more.
Friendship with Jesus, however, is of a far more exquisite quality, and it brings to souls blessings that are infinitely superior. It consecrates friendships that are purely natural, and raises them up and endows them with a supernatural quality. That is why we should cultivate both at the same time..
Unfortunately, this second friendship is difficult, because the object of our love is not such as comes within the scope of our senses, and our relations with Jesus are bound to follow the way of spiritual things. These make little impression upon us, just because they do not appeal to our senses. One needs time to understand the things of the soul, and to experience the relations that souls can have with one another. How often do we say, “I do not forget you; you are always in my thoughts.” But do we reflect on the deep reality that lies beneath our words?
We do not understand, or rather we do not realize, that when two souls are united, they do no lie side by side like two bodies; they are really each in the other. And this is the principle of the love union, and in particular of that friendship which is the highest form of that union. Two friends become one, because their minds and their hearts are in perfect harmony, in the worship of the same truth and in the love of the same good. That community of love – note the word “community” which means “common-unity” and is very significant – increases our life two-fold, and makes our being greater with all the greatness of the life of the one we love. That is how, when we love God and when we enter into these relations of friendship with him, our life takes on a wideness that is measureless, and becomes eternal life."
Dom Augustine Guillerand, O.Cart. (+1945)

the seniors on GMU's Catholic Campus Ministry Student Ministry Team, and my true friends for life

Anything you can do, I can do better

This was my very first weekend as a working woman. And I spent a good portion of it in dreamland on my little makeshift futon on my floor. I'm learning to embrace all the new cracking sounds I can make with my neck everyday.

My life has finally slowed down after a whirlwind of events. I ended college in a hurry, cramming for final exams, sprinting to graduation in heels because I woke up late, moving out of my apartment at school into a new one closer to the city in one day, and leaving for Italy the next (hence the makeshift futon on the floor). I returned from Italy two days before I was to start my job, and one week later, I am still sleeping on the floor and trying to figure out where to store my 17 bottles of wine.

Don't judge me.

disclaimer: my photo, not my bottles. i totally had more

As I sit down and catch my breath, I can't help but think about my trip to Italy. I am still on that post-trip high, wanting desperately to go back and do it all over again, but time is a one way street. The only plans I made for Italy were my plane tickets, and a one-item to-do list that read LIVE PRESENTLY. I thought I knew what it meant to live presently. I thought it meant drinking slowly the  sweet nectar of life, so as to savor it. I was ready for a relaxing time to just sit back and take it all in.

somewhere near Positano

And then I was whisked away by scooter to see miles and miles of the magnificence, with only  windblown strands of hair between my eyes and raw beauty.  No distortions from gigantic tinted tour bus windows to skew perfectly formed coastlines and cloud murals in the sky. I was speeding along going I don't even know how fast because can't convert kilometers to miles without a calculator.

beach in Amalfi

I had prepared myself for stillness, but instead I was constantly moving. Each hairpin turn along the Amalfi coast gave me one stunning view after another. I think God just relishes in astounding us. Even the thought of it can't get any better than this makes God smile with glee, knowing that He is the ultimate one-upper.


I saw magnificent views. I got to stop on the side of a highway to Amalfi and just look out at the vastness of the sea, the splendor of the mountains and the radiance of the sun. I got to just stand there and hold my arms out, hugging the warm rays of sunshine and breathing in the salty, healing air. This was it, living presently. The zipping about, the moving around, the running amok and the stopping. The breathing and enjoying. This is life.

vatican as the sun sets

vatican after the sun sets

God takes us through whirlwinds, and gives us breaks. Before I embarked on this little Italian excursion all on my own, I thought that the breaks were the times to sit down, collect my thoughts and realize how much I had enjoyed something. But now I realize enjoyment and contemplation are simultaneous. To live presently, I must thank God for every moment and rejoice in whatever is happening now. To live presently, I must delight in the peaceful, serene moments of silence that God grants to me.

Napoli

So even here, on my makeshift futon bed on the floor, where it is peaceful and serene, I will delight in knowing He is here and He loves me, and He can't wait to show me.

Ritorno a Sorrento

If you are planning on visiting Italy, and if you are anything like me, you will wake up every morning and try to convince yourself that you are, in fact, in Italy. It won't work though. I tried pinching myself, splashing cold water on my face, even a quick smack on my cheeks. Nothing worked.

So how do you know you are actually in Italy? After physical violence didn't work, I tried looking for other signs to make sure I wasn't dreaming a fabulous dream of good food, great landscapes, and wonderful people.

Is it because your toilet was made by Ferrari? No, that's totally normal, right?


Is it because your hotel bathroom was designed by Versace? Still dreaming.


Is it because I saw priests and nuns every other block? Nope, that happens all the time at FOCUS National Conference.


Is it because your feet hurt from playing soccer on rocky beaches? No, please, my feet hurt when I'm wearing cleats on turf. But I am also a wimp.


Is it because everyone is speaking Italian? No,  I could be in little Italy in New York, or maybe international week at my university.


Is it because I couldn't understand the Italian homily at Mass? No, sometimes I don't understand them in English, especially if there is an adorable baby in front of me.


Is it because I gained at least a million pasta pounds? I think I do the same thing annually in November and December with baked goods and ham.


Is it because I have scooter butt? If you are wondering what scooter butt is, let me define it for you: it is when you have ridden on the back of a scooter for an hour, and you can no longer feel your body from the waist down. And no, this gives me no indication of my global position because I got a very similar sensation my family lovingly calls numb-butt, from ridiculously long road trips throughout my childhood.


Is it because all the men I see are more fashionable than me? Nope, that seems to be a pretty common occurrence.


Is it because I am inundated with American pop culture? This gives me zero indication about where I am in the world.


Is it because of that time I "accidentally" walked into adoration, and Jesus said "Ciao, la mia bella figlia", and I understood exactly what he meant, even though I don't speak Italian? Yep. That's it. I'm in Italy.

Four Years

Today at 2:15pm, I walked out of Robinson Hall at George Mason University with a feeling that I have never felt before. I had just finished college. I had plunked down my final exam in Health Economics on my professor's desk, walked triumphantly out of the room and...nothing. No parades, no people screaming my name and cheering for me, not even confetti.

But I was done. I had completed four years of tests, papers, exams, projects, presentations, part time jobs, and even a social life. I walked a little taller. I smiled. And then I called my big brother. He walked this same walk four years ago. Big brothers are great. Little brothers are too, but big brothers are great in an entirely different capacity. That experience they have of being older therefore wiser, and also knowing how guys brains work is a double threat. They rock.

For so long I have been trying to figure out how to sum up my crazy-train of a brain, and explain what graduating means. All I had to do was call my big brother and say, I'm done. And he knew. No lengthy explanation needed, he just knew. And our brief phone conversation made me realize the most important thing I have learned in college. 

God knows me.

Too often I feel the need to explain myself and my thoughts in ways that are clever, funny, or maybe even insightful. God doesn't need me to use a thesaurus to tell him how I feel. He knows. He knows that plenty of people have graduated before, and even more will continue to experience it, but He knows I am unique in my emotions.

Part of this wonderful lesson of knowing God knows me, is to see the sacredness in this most intimate relationship. So much is best kept between Him and me. Knowing God knows me has helped me desire the Marion virtue of pondering in the heart. Mary was amazing at pondering great occurrences quietly in her heart. (Read around Luke 2:19). She knew how to have an intimate relationship with God, the most intimate relationship between God and woman the world has ever seen.

So I don't need any parades or confetti. In fact, I don't really want them. I am happy to share these unable-to-be-articulated thoughts and emotions with Someone who knows me more deeply than I know myself. I am happy to sit in front of the tenderest of gazes, and be known, and still loved. I am happy.

Adventures

My parents roll their eyes every time I wonder out loud how life as I know it is about to be over. The past four years of little to no responsibility is ending, and the terrible horrible life of being a grown up with a job and bills is beginning. My mother always reminds me that life is just beginning. She assures me that every year of her life has been richer and fuller with joy, wisdom and experience.

She's right of course. I can't see how life could have been anything but infinitely more wonderful as she got older, because she had me as a daughter.

But despite my mother's correct advice, I still felt as if all fun things were finished, adventures were no longer feasible and I ought to look into buying a cat. With this impending doom of old age approaching, I bought plane tickets to Italy. One last adventure before osteoporosis.

To prepare for this European excursion, I had to drive home to the beach to pack up some of my few belongings that didn't make the cut of dorm room appropriate. As I was sifting through old clothes and photographs, I found a true gem. I found my journal from my study abroad trip in high school. What. A. Hoot!

Here are a few glances inside the workings of my 17 year old brain:

[on the flight to switzerland] "A toddler has been crying for about 10 minutes straight with no sign of stopping anytime soon. I have never wanted to tell a child to shut-up until RIGHT NOW."

[on the bus to Italy] "Our bus driver is named Francesco. Hot."

[first day in Italy] "The best part of our day is going to be lunch time, when we are on our own [no chaperones]. The educational part is important, but on our own time, I think, is when we learn the most."

"Italians are feisty drivers, but they are the best drivers I have ever seen. It's like there are no such thing as car accidents!"

"Cultural comparison of the day: Italy has better looking boys! I don't know what's going on in America, but we need some Italian men over there."

"The Sistine Chapel was more beautiful than I could have ever imagined."

[day trip to Capri] "We had two tour guides, Nello and Ivan. Nello was awesome and Ivan was beautiful. Enough said."

"In Greece, you have to pay for water. I like American restaurants better."

"My hotel bathroom has no shower curtain, and you have to hold the shower head up. I think I like American hotels better too."


Shortly after that trip, it was time to graduate high school. Life as I knew it would be over. My mother told me time and again how wonderful her college experience was. She did her best to convince me that adventures are yet to come. Oh dear, this is all starting to sound familiar. My mother reiterates her wisdom everyday, life gets better and better.

And it will. God is good and life is fabulous. Simple as that.

Nostalgia

My mind is a swirly mess of nostalgia, excitement, and sadness. No matter how hard I try, I can't explain to you how I feel. Instead, I am going to remember the things that make me smile, and share them with you here.

-meeting my new roommate on the first day of college and realizing we had matching bedspreads

-donning my bathing suit at 2:00am with some hall mates to go mud-sliding outside of the freshman dorms because it was raining, warm, and we were wide awake

and i still didn't do laundry for a week after that

-my first hangover, followed by my first confession with our chaplain at school

-my first adoration

-picking my major simply because I loved it

-that one time I didn't wake up until 4:00pm

-that other time I didn't wake up until 4:00pm

-being on the coolest intramural soccer team ever, the Dir-T-Birdz (5 time undefeated champions!)

everyone did the birdz wing flap. i made a beak. KAKAW!

-exploring the nations capital, a big switch from beach living

-front row seats near the 50 yard line and an NFL game

wearing my dir-t-birdz shirt :)

-sticking my tongue to a pole during the snowpocalypse

for someone who has watched A Christmas Story 8 million times, you'd think I would have known better

 -being a bridesmaid for my beautiful cousin

-musically and vocally talented friends who share their beautiful gifts with their not-so-talented-but-love-listening-to-people-who-are friends

-summer vacations and spring breaks (they don't have these in the real world, and I will miss them something awful)

-a life-changing mission trip to the Dominican Republic

-college basketball

-the best Halloween costumes EVER

sophomore year- Matilda

junior year- Napoleon Dynamite

senior year-Lucille Ball (won me the costume contest, woot!)

-a real prayer life

-being unabashed about my faith

let me show you how Catholic I am through markers, glitter and poster board (does that nun look familiar??)

This entire list is a list of memories. Happy, sweet memories that I will cherish forever. Soon to be added to the list is walking out of my last final exam, and graduation. And soon after that, I will start a new chapter in life, blank pages waiting to be filled with more great memories.

The final thing I would like to add to this list is all the friends I have made. But the friends I've made can't go down as memories, because I know they will be present for years to come. So here's to good memories and great friends. Cheers, class of 2011!

Mama

My Dearest Mama,

Thank you for reading to me. Thank you for your quiet, sing-song tone when you read Goodnight Moon and Love You Forever. You read to me from infancy, instilling a love for the written word in me so early on. You made it easy to love fiction. You embodied the character of the kind and loving mother. You are the elegant, poised, romantic mother. You have perfect posture and graceful hands. You maintain composure always, like you would imagine a queen to do. Your smile and laugh are not boisterous, but genuine. The few times I have heard you belly-laugh are some of the greatest joys I have experienced.

Anyone who has had the pleasure of tasting one of your culinary creations, knows that they might not ever eat that well again.

You won the 'best-dressed' and 'most-likely-to-succeed' superlatives in your high school. Not a likely combination.

You are the reason I love the beach.

You are the wisest woman I know. I remember you telling me that you were, in fact, my mother, not my best friend. Despite my cries about how all the other girls had "cool moms", you were perfectly content being who I really needed.

When I was a rotten little girl, you would remind me of a nursery rhyme I heard time and again, there was a little girl who had a little curl right in the middle of her forehead, and when she was good she was very good, and when she was bad she was horrid. That was a pretty accurate description, actually. You also told me you hoped one day I would have a little girl just like me.

Whatever little girls I have later in life, I can only hope that I will be as lovely as you. When I catch myself doing something that you would, I think, oh, I am turning into my mother, and I smile. I couldn't be happier.

I'll love you forever
I'll like you for always
As long as I'm living
My mama you'll be

Love,
Ruth Margaret