Monday, June 22, 2015

June 22, 2015


PHOTOGRAPHS
SELF TEST # 18


What are the photographs you have sitting
around your house?  Tell me about them.
They can tell me a lot about you and then
some. Watch people give selfie reports
about who they are with the pictures they
show us on their iPhones or what have you.
Have you ever ripped up a photo of another?
Or with anger, burned? Where are the photo
albums after a divorce? Where do they go?
Do you have any photos in your wallet?
Do you have any cherished  photos that
nobody ever sees? Show and tell me all
about you. Photos are mirrors. Watch!


© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2015

Sunday, June 21, 2015


FATHER  OF  FIVE

[Last week I had 7 homilies - so I needed a change of pace. It's Father's Day - so I decided on writing a story. That's something I like to do. It's Father's day and since my dad had 4 kids, I put on the top of a page, the words, "Father of Four." Then I read today's gospel story for the 12th Sunday in Ordinary Time - Year B. I'ts about Jesus and his disciples dealing with a storm on the lake.  Then I went to bed and got up early to finish the story - not knowing what the story would be. I like doing that. While writing I saw that I wanted to write about someone facing a storm in life - and then praying for faith to get through the storm and get to other side of the pain. After I told this story, I realized I have to read it again myself - to see what is going on in my unconscious - the purpose of a story. So once more the title of my story is, "Father of Five" and for some reason in the morning I switched to 5 kids.]

He was the father of five: 2 sons - 3 daughters.

Every Father’s Day - after the tragedy - was a big day for him - as well as Mother’s day - because he was also Mr. Mom.

His wife, Judy, died in an automobile accident a good 12 years now - when their youngest, Timmy, was only 2.

At first Jack was beside himself….

Obviously ….

“Beside” was the right word…. because when Judy was killed - mid-March - 12 years ago - because of black ice - he found himself - outside himself - beside himself - unable at first to get back inside himself.

That morning - Judy had bought a delicious dark chocolate - 7 layer cake -  for Jillian - their second oldest. It was her 13th birthday. At the bakery she assumed she had enough birthday candles for the cake. She had seen birthday cake candles hundreds of times - right there  in the  top drawer next to the sink - in the kitchen - along with scissors, scotch tape, a meat thermometer, a book of matches, and two dozen other things - like ribbons and rubber bands and plastic potato chip bag clips.

When she went into the kitchen after supper, when she took the cake out of the white bakery box, she discovered, there were no candles. Someone must have thrown them out after the last birthday.

No use causing a problem. She quickly  put on her winter coat. She quickly opened the dining room door - and yelled in, “Ooops I forgot something. Hang on. Will be right  back in 5 quick minutes. “

They had no chance for a reply. She yelled in her last comment, “Jack …. Kids, talk to each other.”

She was thinking, “You can’t have a birthday cake without candles. You can’t skip the classic ritual of blowing out the candles.”

There was a Dollar Store just a block away - on the other side of the big double lane street their house was on. She had seen those tiny birthday cake candles there just last week when she stopped in to see if they had any dollar Get Well - as well as Birthday Cards.

As she backed out of their driveway onto their street, she saw a dump truck, moving towards her - faster than she expected.

She stepped on the gas. Black ice. She hadn’t seen the black ice. She spinned - skidded - and the car went sideways. The dump truck plowed right into her.

Jack and the kids didn’t hear a thing.

But they heard the sirens 7 minutes later.

As Jack opened the front door - he could see the flashing lights down the street from their house. Except for Timmy and Jenny their youngest 2 - they stood on their cold front sidewalk wondering - “What happened?”

It hit Jack right then and there, “Oh no,” he screamed and ran towards the dump truck and the car.

It was their car - crushed and crashed into.

It was Judy.

He saw the rescue squad working on Judy in the front seat.

He sensed before the police holding him back could say anything, that Judy - the love of his life was dead.

His head slumped. A policeman had to hold him as tears and pain and stifled screams were being blurted out of his mind and mouth.

“Ooops, the kids! What about the kids?” came his loud scream.”  He had 5 kids he had to get to. He ran back towards their house - with his 3 kids on their front lawn.

He said to Mary his oldest. “It’s mom! Take the kids into the house. Mary hold onto each other there.”

Then he ran back to the crash.

The policeman seeing Jack running back said, “It’s not good. Not good. We got to get her to the hospital fast. But it doesn’t look good.”

Jack said, “Let me tell Mary - to take care the kids - and I’ll be right, right back.”

He ran back and told Mary, “Call grandma. Call Holy Family Church and tell them we need Father Max at the hospital for mom. And I’ll call you right back - as soon as we get to the hospital.”

Jack ran back and got into the ambulance - just in time. The police man was planning on taking Jack - if the ambulance had taken off for the hospital without him.

Jack knew when he held Judy’s hand in the speeding ambulance - that it was too late - but he didn’t say it. He was praying, praying, praying big time.

He didn’t hear the screaming sirens in the rush.

The hospital was only 7 minutes away.

They rushed her into an emergency room.

Jack knew it was too late.

Father Max got there in 10 minutes.

In the meanwhile the doctor came out and told Jack, “It was too late. She didn’t make it. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.”

Father Max went in with Jack and anointed Mary and both prayed over her big time.

He asked Jack about who’s home and for their number.

Father Max called Mary and told her that mom had passed away.

She told him that Grandma and mom’s sister were there on their way.

“Good,” said Father Max. “Sorry Mary. Be strong for your brothers and sisters and you dad will be back as soon as possible - within the hour I hope.

Father Max didn’t know how long the next would take. He knew that there would be papers to fill out - phone calls to make - and what have you.

Then Father Max made an executive decision.

He handed his car keys to Jack and said, “You have to get home. You have to be with your kids.”

He lead Jack out to the parking lot,  and said, “Get home - quick - and watch the ice.”

Jack got back - and got into the house.

Everyone clung to each other and cried with each other.

There was no dark chocolate birthday cake that night.

There were no candles of light in their hearts and minds either.

It was one of the biggest funerals at Holy Family Church in years.

Father Max picked for the gospel, Mark 4: 35-41.

It was the story of the violent storm on lake and Jesus said, “Let us cross to the other side.”

Father Max told Jack and his kids and everyone there - that he didn’t want to preach - that he didn’t want this funeral - that nobody wants to be here - but here we are.

In his homily, Father Max continued, “We’ve got to get to the other side of this - the other shore - to the other side of this storm - this tragedy. We have all these screams and shrieks within and we have to hear Jesus say, ‘Quiet! Be still.”

“It’s going to take time - lots of time - losing your wonderful mom and wife and sister, and friend Judy - but Jesus is telling us, ‘Yes, we’re terrified - but we have to have faith.’ Jesus is telling the winds and crashing sea within us, to calm down.”

Father Max concluded, “We’re all in this boat together - and sometimes - many times - it will seem that if Jesus is with us - it seems that he’s asleep. Wake him up when you need to!”

It took time - lots of time - for Jack and his five kids to move on - to reach the other shore.

Jack told friends - but not that first Father’s Day - that after that horrible March - that he thought he knew about what a father was after having their first daughter Mary - or after their fifth kid Timmy.

He told them, that it was long after Judy’s death - long afterwards when they felt healing - scars hardening - peace flowing through their blood.

If asked, Jack - and the kids - as they were growing up would say, “Little things helped. Little moments helped. Going to church together…. Going to the cemetery alone or with each other…. We know that a death like mom’s could cause us to lose our faith. Laughter slowly returned to our home. home - slowly.

Jack added, “Moving helped. We had to get off that street - it reminded us too much of that bad night.”



“And yes”, Jack said, “Dark chocolate cake - 7 layer chocolate cake - with one candle - we have one every celebration in memory of mom - as well as today, Father’s Day.”

[Picture on top by Ludolph Backhuysen]
June 21, 2015


SUPERMARKET

The aisles have it. Walk the aisles.
Some people like to find just what
they want without asking. Some like
to consult the aisle labels hanging
up there. Some ask. Some don’t know
what they want. At 10 it’s different
than 20 to 30. From 30 to 40 it’s different
than 50 to 60. After 70 we don’t really
know what we want till we realize
we’re not buying what we really want.
Sometimes we use what we bought,
because we can’t put it back. Sometimes
we go to another supermarket - or
some small store someone told
somebody about - who told us.
Wait a minute. What do I really want?

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2015


Saturday, June 20, 2015

June 20, 2015


LONG WALKS AND LONG TALKS


Fathers and sons need to take long walks,
long talks - down dirt roads - or along the
water - talking about deep things - hopes
for the young - rememberings and regrets
for the old.  They need to do this - and do
this on a regular basis. Did Joseph and Jesus
do this? I don’t know. Did Adam and Cain do
this? I don’t know. All I know is that I regret
I didn’t do this enough with my dad - yet we
went to the park every Sunday afternoon
to give my mom a break. But I did do this
with my older brother - not walks - but long
talks in the front seats of cars - while just
driving along going nowhere - doing this up
to the year he died of cancer at 51 - way too
early - but glad we did. That’s something I
never regretted. Long talks help us get in
touch with what has been and what will be.

(c) Andy Costello, Reflections, Anonymous


Friday, June 19, 2015

June 19, 2015

JIGSAW PUZZLE

My life, a 500, 750, 1000,
a 1500 piece puzzle. I need
the box, the picture, to tell
me what I’m doing. Frame
first, then to sort the colors,
then easy sections first: an
orange or a child with a kite,
clouds, and an old man with
a cane. Then frustration - but
in time slowly constructing
and connecting and building
bridges with the interlocking
pieces of my life. Sometimes
I was sure a piece or two
were missing and a few times
there I had the wrong cover -
and the wrong picture and I
had to figure out life without
knowing what it was all about.


© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2015

Thursday, June 18, 2015

June 18, 2015

AN ITCH

An itch gets us to scratch our back, 
to move and maneuver our hand - 
to use our finger tips to  bring relief - 
to twist and turn to ease discomfort ....

An itch on the skin of our soul gets 
us to ask, to dig, to move towards
anywhere someone points us towards 
so that we find a possible solution....

An itch triggers more -  to take a risk,
to try something new, and then relax
with an answer or an insight in hand.

An itch - every itch - especially the inner
ones - get us to realize we're closer
to answers at times - but then again
an uneasiness appears with the next 
itch -  till finally - well sometimes - 
as Augustine discovered, the Itch
is called the Son - who brings us
to the Father. Scratch, scratch!
The More is there. The More is near. 
The More is here - and then comes 
a new Itch. God is always beyond 
the next tap on our shoulder, the 
next scratch on our back. Itch. Itch.



© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2015

Wednesday, June 17, 2015

June 17, 2015

HIDDEN

99% of each day, each life, each moment,

is hidden. So Lord, help me to see the best
of that 1% that I do notice. Help me to see
the work behind my life, work and family.  
Remind me to connect - if but a second at
the toll bridge - to the collector. After all,
isn't that the reason I decided not to use
E-ZPass. And Lord, help me by my 1 % to
make life an E-ZPass to at least one person
whom I'll probably won't notice this day. Amen.

 © Andy Costello, Reflections 2014

Painting on Top: The Good Samaritan
bu William Small, 1899
Found in Leicester Art and Museum Service