As a contributing writer and member of the Sacred Sorrows community, Lani Bogart shares a fierce love with her son Evan, who went to heaven in February 2022. As she learns to be here without him, she stands on the essentials of faith and hope, and longs for the day when Love is All. (1 Cor 13:13) Lani is supported by her devoted husband Doug and her children Jonathan, Cana & Ennie, Christopher, and Xhiv.
I'm knitting a blanket for our ninth grandchild, who is due to make an appearance in Houston any day now.
When I don't pay attention, my yarn catches on a chair or table leg or gets wrapped around some other object and I have to interrupt the rhythm of my knitting to free it. Similarly, the rhythm of my day hums along, until my thoughts get caught on a memory triggered by an unexpected sound, sight or smell.
Months ago, we attended Mass at a little church away from home. My attention was drawn to a nativity scene, with lights, and a decorated Christmas tree near the altar.
Breaking the rhythm of my usual prayers, the sight of the tree and creche transported me back nearly 40 years to a few days before Christmas. Our children each had a role in a Nativity play in our little church community. A shiny foil covered cardboard star surrounded five-year-old Jonathan's face making him the Star of Bethlehem. Three year old Cana dressed in a gold bell-shaped dress enthusiastically rang bells while we sang Joy to the World. Two-year-old Christopher wore a robe and a head covering depicting a shepherd. And newborn Evan slept in the arms of a ten-year-old girl who portrayed Mary.
The tears I shed at the memory were sweet, happy tears, making it easy to return to the familiar rhythm of liturgical prayer. I've resolved to allow myself, as needed, the luxury of resting in such priceless memories. I need to be reminded how beautiful life is.