My mother was a complex person who loved her family. We were seven, four girls and three boys. Each one of us called her “My Mother.” All of her grandchildren called her “Ma”; she adored them.

By the time I was eight years old, our parent’s marriage unraveled. Once our father was out of the picture, our Mom became our rock. She used everything in her being to make sure we grew up to be good honorable Christians. I can remember coming home from school to homemade flour tortillas, which we would load up with butter and eat as many as four in one sitting.

She loved to read and she always kept up with politics. It was later in life that she received her GED, which was a huge accomplishment because she had only completed 7th grade.  She was a die-hard Democrat and loved the Kennedys. I once took her to a rally for Robert Kennedy and I watched her as countenance  change to that of great joy. I remembered a photographer capturing what I witnessed and could not stop taking pictures of her enamored expression.  A picture of President Kennedy was showcased on the main shelf of our living room.

Our Mother was funny (I got my sence of humor from her). We always got the giggles at funerals, especially when going up to the casket. This still happens to my sister and me, I realize how morbidly wrong this is but we can’t help it.

Once when my Dad was in the hospital, my Mother asked me to take her to see him. My father was comatose when we walked in. Suddenly I heard my Mom say, “I want to hit him!” I could not believe my ears but then she said it again. ” I just want to hit him!” I told her, “Go ahead, Mom; no one will know.” We started laughing and of course she never did hit him. As a matter of fact, she taught us to love our father. She never spoke an unkind word about him, and would not allow us to say anything mean-spirited about him. This was a powerful lesson of love for us and I never had ill feeling for my Dad.

Our mother made sure we received our Sacraments as Catholics. She never learned to drive and we lived out in out in the sticks, so going to church on a regular basis was a challenge.We took taxis everywhere, to visit our cousins, to go grocery shopping, and to doctor’s appointment. We were the original Uber family.

Our mother taught us to become strong Christians and emphasized the importance of family. We still are all very close because she made sure we got over our differences by calling us out when we were in the wrong.

My mother never got over the fact that I became a Republican, and that caused a lot of heated debates. I remained steadfast as she stood her ground, using our heritage to try to persuade me. It did not work.

When our mother became dependent on others, my sister Norma took over the role of her caregiver, Norma cared for her lovingly.  A few weeks before she went home to be with the Lord, she had a heart- to-heart talk with me. “I don’t want to die in the house.” “Ok,” I said, and then she added, “I don’t want to die in the hospital either.” I gave her a puzzled look and asked her, “Well where do you want to die?” She answered, “Not in those two places.” My mother died in an ambulance on the way to the hospital.

Our mother buried two of her children: our oldest brother Robert, who died at age 33, and our sister Myra who died five months before my mother. She is survived by son George, his wife Mary,  son Mike,  daughters  Jo and Lynda and Mike Lynda’s husband, and daughter Norma. She has left a legacy of 17 grandchildren and 25 great-grandchildren.

We love you Mom! Happy Mother’s Day!

Palm Sunday is a beautiful celebration. This Sunday we celebrate the entrance of our King Jesus coming into Jerusalem on a donkey. Palm Sunday is mentioned in all four Gospels because God wants us to understand the importance of this message. This is the beginning of Holy Week, otherwise known as Passion Sunday. The Latin word passion is “pati” meaning to suffer.

Right before His triumphal entry into Jerusalem, Jesus he heals a blind man. To understand this passage is to understand what spiritual blindness is. Without God we are spiritually blind; yes we see but we see is what the world wants us to see. If you see with spiritual eyes you know the difference and truth comes to light. When you have the Lord you no longer have anger for things you have no control of. We pray and know that it is not in our hands but in the hands of God. For years I was spiritually blind and into the things of the world; thinking that as long as I was good person and did no harm to anyone I was fine. Something happened along the way, and just as Paul was struck by a light from heaven (Acts 9), I too saw the light. Not as dramatic as Paul but nonetheless as powerful. My conversion experience is my own, and it has a purpose: to gently reach out to others and tell them what  changes it has done for me. My only desire is to serve God, because nothing brings me more pleasure.

What this holy season means to me is hope. I have failed miserably at keeping my Lent promises. I gave up bread and sweets but it has been challenging to keep the commitment. I don’t beat myself up about it, I just jump on the holy wagon the next morning and pray for a better day. God knows all my weaknesses and one day I will have better control.

We leave Monday for Jerusalem and invite you to send your prayer requests. Please pray for us as we pray for you. Look for us on Good Friday, and the media does a pretty decent job of covering our Passion as we reenact the Stations of the Cross in the Old City of Jerusalem. You cannot fake this news coverage.

My Prayer:

Dear Lord, so many are blinded by the things of the world, that they see things as they are not. I pray for you to remove the scales from their eyes and give them a new vision to see things as You see them. Lord, only You can fix this world and we look to You because You are our only hope. Heavenly Father, we need unity and this can only come with the change of hearts, so we trust in You and call out to You to guide the spiritually blind to the foot of your Cross for Your nail-scarred hands to touch and heal their eyes. Lord, during this  Holy Week, Your Passion, we ask You to bring us to all humility, just as You rode into Jerusalem on a donkey. Make us all humble as You are humble. Your servants sing “Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Blessed is the Kingdom of Your father David that comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the Highest!” (Mark 11:9-10)