Sunday, November 6, 2011

Dear God,

I had heard her headstone had finally been erected. Following the retreat I was determined to take the easy walk by the stations of the cross to the little cemetery filled with simple white grave markers. There before her resting place I knelt down, ran my finger across her name, and felt the rush of tears as I uttered my prayer of thanksgiving.

I hardly knew the sister. I had only talked with her for 30 minutes one time when she was 102. But it was her kindly spirit, her loving way, her gentle touch, and her affirmation that she was present at my birth assisting my mother at Mercy Hospital on that September day in 1946. My mother was so taken by her and her name that she named me after Sister Andrea.

I will never forget my conversation with her in the motherhouse infirmary in 2006. Suffering from Alzheimer's and illnesses associated with the dreaded disease, she was perfectly lucid when I queried her about her work at the hospital. She confirmed that she had been a delivery nurse and had helped a lot of babies come into the world. She had smiled, taken my hands in hers, and prayed for me.

As the wind blew, the dead brown leaves rising in the drafts around me, I wiped away my tears and stood, bewildered once again by the wondrous mysteries of the divine/human connection.

Holy God,
full of grace
and mercy,
you constantly
fill me
with eternity's gifts.
I am blessed
to overflowing.

Loving you always, Andrea