My husband Mike lovingly prepares our entire Thanksgiving meal. He’s not the come-alongside-me chef, but more of a loner in the kitchen; cooking this dinner is serious business. My job is setting the table and getting the house ready for our family and our our special guests, our daughter-in-law’s parents Mick and Jean who live in Minnesota. I also prepare spiritually.

Before  the Blessed Sacrament (Adoration), I pray that we all get along, and that if politics comes up,  I will not get caught up in defending my stand. I pray that all of our grandchildren get along, but mostly I pray that the peace of God be in our midst.

Maddie, our oldest grandchild, for the last few years, has been lovingly making our seating tags. These place cards are creative and personal,  depicting different themes of Thanksgiving. I gave our grandson Will a choice of Scriptures on Thanksgiving to read, Will read from Colossians 3:15: “And let the peace of God rule in your hearts, to which also you were called in one body; and be thankful.”   Our son Mikos said grace, and with that we were ready to dig in.

I can only try to explain how delicious Mike’s meal turned out. I was the least surprised because I witnessed all the hard labor of love that Mike put into our feast. For every Thanksgiving, Mike starts Wednesday with brining the turkey overnight, and then prepping for his famous tortilla stuffing.  He gets up at the crack of dawn and works throughout the morning. I help with cleaning up, but mostly I need to stay out of the kitchen, because Mike needs his space.

Jenny is in charge of the salad, and she always uses romaine lettuce, but sadly all romaine lettuce was pulled off the shelves due to an E. coli outbreak. My heart breaks for the farmers, and the great loss they are going to experience, because all the romaine lettuce is tagged and must be discarded. Most of this product comes from California, and framers here supply most of the USA with lettuce. Jenny used butter lettuce instead, and we all loved the new flavor. Sonja made Pumpkin Pies, Turtle Cheese Cake, and Pecan Pie that was a little runny, but delicious. A sweet friend of ours, Natalia, stopped by with chocolate cupcakes; that were topped with pumpkin cream cheese frosting, and we had so many different choices that I had a little of all desserts. There is always a price to pay for gluttony, aside from the scale tipping in the wrong direction, my face was broken out with unwanted blemishes.

While I was Christmas shopping at Marshalls, I noticed a Bingo game, I don’t know why, but the image of the game stayed in my head and I felt a strong urging to purchase the game; however I did not buy it.  Several days later I went to Home Goods and purchased the last Bingo game in the store. I also purchased several gifts for the prizes. This little old-fashioned game was a huge hit. From the youngest to the oldest, everyone loved it, and we ended with a cash blackout bonus.

The importance of any game is to keep the kids off their electronics and to experience real interaction with the rest of the family. Electronic gadgets are quietly ruining a generation of kids, and I am concerned about several things, including the lack of exercise, and placing the device on their laps. I always ask my grandkids, “Do you want to have children when you get married? Then you need to place a pillow on your lap when you’re using your iPad.”  Only God knows what type of emissions we are being exposed to.

Our daughter Sonja has started a tradition with her family of going to the movies after Thanksgiving dinner. Unfortunately for the rest the of us she leaves right after dessert and right before the cleanup starts. Unlike Mike, I welcome all the help I can get in the kitchen. Thank you Jean, Norma (my sister-in-law), and Jenny for all your help.

After our guests left Mike went straight to bed for a well deserved good night’s sleep. Not me, because while I’m putting away Thanksgiving decoration, I’m getting out Christmas stuff. It takes us three days to complete this task.

When I got home from church last night, I walked into a dark house. I asked Mike why the all the Christmas lights were off and he said, “I don’t want the electric bill to be too high.” “So we worked our butts off for three days to not enjoy the Christmas decorations?” I said to myself.  It was late, and I was too tired to start a dispute over this; plus I needed to remind myself of all the hard work Mike put into our meal. The Christmas lights will shine soon enough, and the moratorium for arguments will be lifted after three days.

“The family that prays together stays together.” Fr. Patrick Peyton, C.S.C.

When we first arrived in Spain we were staying at a boutique hotel not far from the city center. Every morning we ordered a tortilla for breakfast. The tortillas in Spain are very different from tortillas in America. Their tortilla is similar to a fluffy omelette with onions and potatoes. It reminded me of Silvia and Florencio, our friends from Madrid, who had Mike and me over for a meal, where they served tortillas. I decided to contact them by texting their son in the US; he quickly responded with a phone number. After exchanging a few text messages with them, we arranged to meet over brunch the following morning.

Silvia and Florencio are the most cultured people I know. They are elegant and hospitable,  yet humble. Our brunch was at an upscale hotel in Madrid.  The last time we saw Silvia and Florencio was at a dinner in Irvine, California, about 5 years ago. I remember because I had a terrible cough and got one of those horrible coughing attacks after drinking iced tea. Silvia kindly suggested that I drink something hot to control the cough, and she was right.

At brunch we shared family pictures and caught up with our lives. Mike and  I have known this couple for many years. Their cookies were imported into the US, and Mike was their distributor. We appreciate our friendship with Silvia and Florencio, and I love to watch how skillfully they eat. Eating for them is an art, and I believe that is one of the reasons this country does not suffer from obesity. Eating is a form of relaxation.

Another observation about Madrid was the freshness of the food; nothing seems to be processed. They have very few fast foods, and you can forget about Starbuck’s because there is nothing that compares to Spain’s cafe con leche; each morning I had three cups.

After leaving Spain we visited Lourdes, France, and then on to Tuscany. We have frequented the same accommodations in a small village about 45 minutes outside of Florence. The Castello del Nero never disappoints, the setting is not only picture perfect, it’s celestial.

We visited Cortona, where the movie “Under the Tuscan Sun” was filmed. Cortona, like Assisi has beautiful, quaint villages that offer incredible experiences. Assisi is always one of my favorite places to visit. This is where St. Francis’s body is laid to rest. Helen and I walked the long distance to the church, said our prayers and left. It was getting dark and driving on unfamiliar roads is not safe for Californians; one wrong turn on the round-about can pose a big problem. Even with navigation, it’s still complicated.  We ventured into Florence, walking around one of the most aesthetically perfect cities in the world. I will always be in awe of it’s beauty and all that it has to offer.

In both Cortona and Assisi, many homes are adorned with small statues of the Madonna and child. These dwellings are more than just homes, because they are witnessing their religious beliefs for the world to see.

We returned to Madrid to once again meet with Silvia and Florencio. This time dinner was at La Gran Pulperia, specializing in tapas. Tapas are like ours appetizers, you get to sample a little of every thing the Spaniards eat. There are many stories about how tapas first originated, but my favorite is the one from one of the oldest restaurants in Spain, El Ventorrillo del Chato.  The story goes as follows: After a long voyage following one the the longest routes in Andalusia, King Fernando VII  arrived at the restaurant. He was served a glass of wine, covered with either a slice of bread or cheese to repel the bugs. The King knew why the wine was covered, but ate the slice anyway; then his entire court followed suit. After this event it is said that the King continued to ask for “tapas” with wine wherever he went. Some of our tapas included octopus – thank God I tried it for the first time a few days earlier. Octopus has the same texture as calamari but with no breading, because it is served with potatoes. It takes some time to get used to the rubbery coarseness. I cannot recall all the different types of tapas we ate that night, only that it was a memorable evening with wonderful friends.

The Vatican Visitor’s Office is located just a stones throw away from the Trevi Fountain. When we arrived we were greeted by Sister Maria. Sister Maria led us to the small office and handed me the four tickets for the audience with the Pope for the following day. Father Brad, a young priest from Michigan was hearing confession. This was a special blessing, because I had a lot of venial sins I needed to rid myself of.  As I walked in, Father Brad was sitting on an over stuffed blue brocade velvet chair. Father Brad motioned with his hand for me to sit down. The room looked more like a cozy living area than a confessional. I sat on a worn out faded green couch to the right of Father Brad.  I confessed my sins, and right when I thought all my sins were divulged, the Holy Spirit quicken my mind about my great disappointment toward the Pope.  As the holy priest closed his eyes, he articulated his words almost as if he was having mystical visions when he spoke. Father Brad’s kind, gentle words absolved me of my anger.

This confession was most important to help me continue the journey in peace. This peace made a great difference in my spirit as I was indifferent about seeing the Pope the following day. There was no excitement, but thanks to the confession, instead of enmity, my mood shifted to empathy.

My righteous anger was in check the morning of the audience. We left in plenty of time to secure good seats. I had all of my Holy items, plus water from Lourdes for the papal blessing. I told Helen to get ready with her iPhone so she could get a good shot of the Pope. I sat back and watched as others yelled with excitement, I thought how two years ago I was just as elated, rushing the crowd to get the best frame. Sadly not today, something was off, and as the Pope passed by, I held the button on my iPhone, taking several shots. I saw the Pope as a man, a regular man through great mercy. I overheard a conversation of two English-speaking women saying, “I feel different, don’t you? She asked her companion.” I too felt different but not like them, they were blessed, I felt sadness.

The message from the Pope was encouraging on this particular Wednesday. Pope Francis elaborated about the importance of marriage, and how to make love the focal point in a relationship. My heart was distracted, and as much as tried to follow, the Pope’s words were lost in translation, not because of the language, but because of heaviness I was feeling for our Church.

The other pilgrims were more gracious and as I concentrated on their excitement, and I wondered if one day this feeling would return.

I loved seeing young married couples dressed in their wedding attire, waiting to get a special blessing for the start of their sacramental union. This restored hope in my heart. Recalling words of wisdom that Father Brad shared, “The Holy Spirit will always be in charge of our Catholic Church and God will always be her protector not man.”

The following morning we visited St. Lawrence outside the walls. A young matted hair girl sat at the steps of the basilica with her frail hand extended for alms, both Mike and Larry obliged.

This basilica is simple, and yet beautiful. We stopped and prayed at the confessio where St. Lawrence, St. Steven and,  Justin are all buried. These saints were all martyred for their belief.

I recently discovered The Holy Cross in Jerusalem at our last visit to Rome. It is walking distance from St. John Lateran.  St. Helena, Contestine’s mother reverently brought treasures of relics from Jerusalem. You can feel the anointing as soon as you step into basilica. Wood from Jesus’s cross, a nail from the cross, St. Thomas’s finger, the sign written in three languages reading: “Jesus King of The Jews.” and a thorn from our Lord’s crown, are all preserved there.

We traveled along the Appian Way, the same route that The Apostle Paul took to reach Rome before his trial. We reached St. Sebastian Church, and walked through the damp, claustrophobic catacombs 30 feet underground making our way up the basilica. St. Sebastian was martyred during the persecution of the Christian and his body is also in this basilica.

On every trip that I’ve taken, there is always that person that takes charge, and knows exactly what to do. Almost as if our guardian angels are asked to step aside, these people take over. On this trip both Mike and Helen did all the work, they were the agents that knew all the right roads to take, how to use a credit card at the gas station, how to pay the tolls, and how to get to the right gates. Larry and I just watched in amazement, and smiled, reading each others minds saying, “Thank God I don’t have to do that!” Thank you Mike and Helen for your servanthood, we weary travelers appreciate all that you do.