Random thoughts for Thanksgiving

I don't have to cook or do a thing this year. We are meeting Rocky's people at Maggiano's Little Italy for Thanksgiving and I am extremely grateful to be lying in bed thinking this afternoon. I'm grateful for a few other things too:


Rocky, my dear husband and Mama, my dear mother and best friend.



The readers of this blog, particularly, Bob, a true Catholic gentleman.



My uncle. I've written before that my mother and I are busy trying to rescue a relative with dementia. It's been horrible at times. It's been painful, tears have been shed, bad dreams have been dreamt. After leaving his apartment and seeing for ourselves how he's been living we were both in some kind of shock. But I am thankful for him. Trying to take care of him and get him into a nursing home has been a grace. I find myself repeating St. Joan's words. "God clears the way. It was for this I was born," and I've made a sign from her quote and thumb tacked it to my wall at work to look at when I need encouragement. You don't have to like your cross, to thank God for giving it to you. Soon, I hope to have him safely in a nursing home and then my mother and I can rest but until then, I am comforted by knowing that Jesus is with my relative and with us every step of the way.

My pastor, Fr. Eagle (that's our nick name for him, I'm Southern so I have a nick name for everyone). He's a fine young, big hearted priest and offers  confession four days a week and a low Mass on Thursdays. Rocky and I look forward to that Mass more than we ever expected or than I can even explain.



Role models like Mary Ann Kreitzer and Elena Vidal 




The Traditional Latin Mass in Maryland blog. I read it everyday. 


Fr. Michael Taylor of Corpus Christi Church in South Riding, Virginia who is being picked on by an unlearned parishioner, who should remember that the Blessed Mother probably was not at the table or even in the roomm  at the Last Supper, the Washington Post and now CNN. 



Monsignor Charles Pope who has served in my home town and in neighborhoods most of us wouldn't dare walk around in, for many years.   On second thought, after being advised of some of Monsignor's views that he doesn't necesarily share from the pulpit I think I need to scratch this.


The nice boy at Mass who told me that he's very impressed that I always wear a veil to the Novus Ordo Mass. I was astonished.



My husband again, always, forever.... the man of my life, friend, fierce protector, inspiration, beloved


Oh and one thing, the first Thanksgiving was not at Plymouth Rock. It was in Virginia at what would later be called Berkley Plantation.