Today is the feast of the Holy Name of Mary. It is also the first anniversary of Moms death. There was a mixture of thoughts yesterday as I walked up and down the sidewalk along Maple Street praying the rosary silently with the junior boys religion class. The day weather wise was much like The 9-11, clear sky and warm temperature. Thoughts of the strangeness of that day at school fourteen years ago ran through my mind, as did thoughts about Moms last day on earth. (Mom died shortly after midnight the beginning of the Holy Name of Mary.) There were other thoughts, too. We had been to Mass with the Gospel on the beam in my eye and 14 of the juniors serving as a great, young priest offered Mass. Alumnus Joey Grimberg gave a talk after Mass to the freshman boys religion class on the influence of Blessed Mother in his life. Joey, who had been told that he would never live past 20, is now 40. Earlier in the day I talked briefly with the new chemistry teacher, Dr. Carpenter, who has her little eight-month old son with her every day as she teaches. He was all smiles. Then after school I saw in the chapel alumna Annie Scheetz praying with her maternal grandfather, Dr. Kelly, who is 95. A group of teachers, young and old, were going out for fish tacos in Old Towne. Invited twice, I had to pass because of volleyball practice in the newly refurbished John Paul II Center where Mass had been earlier in the day. Mr. Pennefather, head volleyball coach, had his little boy Charbel at Mass. He was singing Alleluias and praying “the Lord be with you” while the rest of the congregation was silently readying themselves for Holy Communion. Life is amazing; Seton is amazing.
Jezu, ufam Tobie.
