Junior's First Holy Communion

We had another red letter day in the Pearl family yesterday, when our second-oldest son's firstborn (who was named after him, and thereby has the handle "Junior" here at the blog) made his First Holy Communion. 

Don't you love this idea?!  They can take a picture of him holding this
picture when he gets confirmed; and then holding the Confirmation
picture when he gets married (or ordained!).

Junior is the oldest of five boys (with a tiny sister in Heaven), and he is the most patient, caring, loving big brother imaginable.  I have watched him in action with the younger ones, and he will definitely roughhouse and wrestle with them because, well...they're BOYS (and I don't care what people say about the two sexes being just alike, without society's interference; boys love--and need!--to roughhouse!  It's in their nature and it's good for them).  But he never goes overboard and always seems to be aware of his superior size and strength; he instinctively holds back just enough that it's still fun, but not dangerous.  Junior is a leader and the younger brothers all look up to him.

This sweet young fella might be all boy (active and sports-obsessed and competitive, and not at all averse to getting dirty), but he also has such a tender heart.  We were with him and his brothers at their house not quite a year ago, when the call came from the hospital that baby #5 was another boy.  His eyes immediately filled with tears--not because he minded having another brother in the family, but because he wanted his sister Monica (who passed away in utero in 2019, but is still very much a remembered and beloved member of his family) to have a sister.  It took lots of gentle encouragement from everyone who loves him to convince him that Monica would be just as thrilled with another brother as she would have been with a sister.  He kills me, that kid.

I think of sweet Monica, who is no doubt a tiny saint in Heaven, looking down on her ragamuffin crew of little men and loving them fiercely.  Junior and his four brothers have a mighty intercessor and protector up there.  And when the occasion calls for it, they sure do clean up nicely.  She must have been very proud of them yesterday.

XO

Especially of her oldest brother, Junior.

We weren't supposed to take pictures during Mass, so I have no shots of our sweet grandson reverently receiving Our Lord in the Eucharist.  But Papa and "ReeRee" got a picture with him afterward.

It is the greatest joy on earth to have so many much-adored grandchildren, and to see them being raised in the Faith by our boys and their wives.  God is so good.  We are blessed beyond measure.

Happy Sunday, dear readers!

Life is Short, Use the Silver

I was inspired recently by one of my daughters-in-law, Ginger (wife of son #2), who texted me a photo of my boy dutifully polishing up a huge silver urn that she'd found at a thrift store.  (He's a good sport, that boy!)  I have silver serving dishes that had been packed away in boxes for ages, some that were gifts at our wedding 43 years ago; and after getting that text, I decided that it was time to break them out and polish them up.  Yes, it was time to start enjoying them on a regular basis, even when it's not a holiday!  Life is short, use the silver--that's my new motto.  :)

Before I continue, I'll tell you a little bit about this particular daughter-in-law: she is the queen of finding incredibly beautiful and ridiculously inexpensive treasures at the thrift store, and she has begun to embrace what they call the "Grandmillennial" decorating style, which is also sometimes referred to as "Granny chic."  This style incorporates many classic, traditional (read: old-fashioned) elements that were beloved by gals of my generation and our mothers--dark wood furniture (often antique); overstuffed couches and chairs upholstered in toile or floral chintz, with ruffles; wallpaper; blue and white china; silver and crystal, etc.--and uses them in fresh ways alongside modern pieces.  This warm, cozy, and eclectic decorating style is nothing new, but for a time it was considered stuffy, outdated, and cluttered-looking; therefore, you can find lots of items that fit the bill at the thrift store, because so many young people have not been interested in holding onto their grandparents' heirlooms! However, in recent years there has been an increasing appreciation for traditional home decor among some millennials, who for a time embraced a more pared-down, minimalistic decorating style (or Joanna Gaines's trademark all-white, wood, and metal aesthetic), but have begun to incorporate the furnishings and home accessories of past generations into their 21st century homes.  Ginger is one such millennial.

So, taking a cue from my sweet grandmillennial D-I-L, I went through some boxes in our basement storage room and got out my wedding pewter and silver, which I hadn't even set eyes upon in the seven years we've lived in this VA house.

Pewter doesn't tarnish as much as silver, but these still needed a little TLC.

I got out the silver polish and shined up these beauties!

One of the most beautiful pieces I own was actually a 25th anniversary gift from my mom and dad.  It's an antique chafing dish; I'm not quite sure of its origin, but I'm going to ask my mom about it the next time we talk.  Wherever it came from, it's just spectacular.  I can't believe it's been languishing in storage since we moved in here!

What is pictured here would have to be considered Granny chic decor.

Look at that beauty!

The other thing I decided to do was to put some of my wedding cutlery into regular use.  As a bride-to-be, I registered for some high quality Oneida stainless flatware (my mother's generation would register for silver or silverplated flatware, but few gals of my generation did so), and we received service for 20, along with a number of matching serving utensils.  The pattern is so pretty. 

Each place setting is 5 pieces.

I had 8 place settings of lower-quality Oneida stainless that was our "everyday" silverware, so I saved those 20 settings of the good stuff to use on Thanksgiving and Christmas, planning for the far-off day when I would have a family big enough to have to use them all at once for a special occasion.  (Goal achieved--ha ha!)

Anyway, while I was polishing up my wedding silver, one thing led to another.  And I got to thinking that our everyday flatware was getting kind of sorry-looking.  We still had 8 matching knives and dessert forks, and 7 soup spoons; but we had gotten down to one dinner fork and one teaspoon from the original set, so over the years I had gotten random pieces to fill in, either at Walmart or at the Oneida outlet, and the silverware drawer in the kitchen was filled with a mismatched mash-mash.  And most of our teaspoons were a tad nicked-up, after run-ins with the garbage disposal.  (Oops.)

So I decided to empty out the drawer and fill it with 8 lovely matching place settings of my wedding flatware (and to be vigilant about always checking to make sure that the garbage disposal has only food scraps in it before turning it on!).  The older I get, the more I realize that life is short, and we should use the pretty stuff now. Because if not now, then when?  And besides, even with 8 place settings in daily use, we are still left with 12 more stored away in the dining room, to break out for holiday dinners or whatever.

I definitely need to take good care of this beautiful flatware, however.  When I looked up my pattern online, I realized how expensive it would be to replace lost or garbage disposal-chewed pieces!

So that's my advice for today: don't wait for a special occasion to use all those lovely things you got as wedding gifts.  Every day is special.  Life is short, so use the silver.  And the pretty china.  And your "good" flatware.  And, well, you get the idea.

We often use paper products with these little peeps (son #4's gang);
but they know it's a special meal when we eat on the good dishes!

Grandparents' Day, a Confirmation, Cousins, and a Cake

Well, it hasn't been QUITE a month yet since I last blogged (almost, but not quite!).  I left off with this post, from May 19, which chronicled a grandson's First Holy Communion and a Mother's Day celebration.  Lots has happened since then...lots that I haven't written about but I'd like to get down "on paper" here before too much more time has passed.

I actually forgot to mention another special event that occurred in May in that last post: Grandparents' Day at son #3's kids' Catholic school, which took place on May 12.  Their school is only about a 45-minute drive from where we live (I've said it before and I'll say it again, this move to VA in 2017 was the best decision we could have made), so we were able to arrive early and snag the best seats up front in the gym/auditorium.  (That way, when the kids looked out to see if we were there, we were easy to find!)  It was wonderful, but a bit crazy: when you have three students (grades JK, 1, and 2) and only two grandparents, it's hard to do all the things you want to do with each one, as each grade level has a different schedule of events.  But we did the best we could and our grandchildren seemed extremely happy that we came.  (Especially our JK cutie, who was literally jumping and dancing with joy.)

 

You may recall that in my next-to-last post, I blogged about a trip out to Iowa for a granddaughter's First Holy Communion in early May.  Well, that same granddaughter (8) and her sister (10), two of our oldest son's six children, were scheduled to be confirmed on May 21--in the same ceremony, at the Shrine of Our Lady of Guadalupe in LaCrosse, WI, by Cardinal Burke.  So we went on another road trip!  We drove out to Iowa first, to spend a couple of days with our son's family.  On Sunday, we went to a traditional Latin Mass at their parish in the morning, and then we car-caravanned over to WI with them afterward for the Confirmation.  Our 8-year-old granddaughter, City Girl, had asked me to be her sponsor.  Her sister, Little Gal, had asked her other grandmother.  What a special honor that was for Grammy and Nonna!

The two newly confirmed girls are in front,  one on either side of the cardinal, with their sponsors
 behind them. (St. Joan of Arc, pray for us!  St. Catherine Laboure, pray for us!)

One more interesting little fact: our granddaughters' mom Regina was also confirmed by Burke many years ago, back when he was a bishop.  

That will probably be our last trip to Iowa to see this beloved family, since son #1 has taken a job with a new company and a move to WI is imminent.  It's funny how you can get attached to a place so quickly.  They've only lived there a year-and-a-half, but I'm a bit sad that my husband and I will never visit them at their sweet little Iowa homestead again.  They've sold most of their animals (the cows, chickens, and ducks; but they still have the goats) and put their house on the market, and they're looking for a place to buy in WI.  We pray that the sale of the old house and the move to a new one will happen quickly and smoothly.

Doesn't this look idyllic, like something out of an old painting?  It's a dreamy piece
of real estate. (Hopefully some buyer will agree with that sentiment, sooner rather than later!) 

Let's see, what else has happened since I've been away?  Oh yes, over Memorial Day son #3, his wife, and their five kids made a trip to TN.  They met up with son #5, his wife, and their infant daughter (who live outside of Nashville), and they all stayed together in an airbnb cabin.  While my husband and I weren't part of that fun family vacation (which included visiting Dollywood), we enjoyed it vicariously through pictures.  We were so thrilled to know that two of our boys had met up with their families and were enjoying precious time together, and that cousins who'd never met before were forming new bonds.  (Although our youngest granddaughter may have to see these guys a few more times before she starts to remember them!)  That's everything to my husband and me, really.  Aside from wanting them to one day all become saints in Heaven (of course!), our one wish for our boys and their families is that they remain close to each other, long after we're gone.

It has become a tradition that sometime in mid-June, son #2 and his wife host a huge family blow-out party at their house, to celebrate the birthdays of their second-oldest son Jedi and my hubby.  After that backyard extravaganza, we head up to NY for the summer to manage our Vrbo house and enjoy the lake life.  This year, because our daughter-in-law Ginger is due to have baby #5 in mid-June, they were going to have the party at the beginning of the month.  But they ultimately decided to cancel, which to tell you the truth was a relief to us.  It's hard enough to be within a couple of weeks of giving birth, but add in a party for dozens of people (which always includes an amazing spread and a giant water slide/bouncy house for the kids), and that's just too much.  

So instead of that, Papa and I brought a little party over to Jedi last night, and we celebrated his 6th birthday a few days early. 

It has also become a tradition for Grammy to make cakes for all the
little ones.  Guess what Jedi is into these days?

Unless the baby decides to come earlier, Ginger is due to be induced on June 16, the Feast of the Sacred Heart.  She and son #2 chose not to find out the sex, and we can hardly wait to meet our new grandson or granddaughter!  We will be staying overnight at their house to watch their four boys while they're in the hospital.  Please keep our daughter-in-law and her baby in your prayers, if you could.

I used to dream that this blog would have all sorts of inspirational content, that it would be more about writing than just telling you what I've been doing and posting photos.  When I read Jenny Uebbing's blog posts, which don't come out that often and are always eagerly devoured, I'm just blown away by her WORDS.  (I love words!  I love to read them and to write them!  Speaking them is harder for me, so I'd rather write them.  But I digress...)  Uebbing rarely even includes pictures in her blog posts, but she doesn't have to.  Every essay is gold. 

This blog, on the other hand, has has become more of a scrapbook of my life than anything else.  But I'm okay with that!  As my 65th birthday approaches, I'm reminded more and more of how fleeting it all is, and I want to commit to memory every single precious moment with the people I love. 

And thanks be to God, there are many such moments.

A Belated Happy St. Nicholas Day!

I meant to blog on the 6th...but life got in the way!  I hope it was a happy one for everyone!

Two of our sons celebrate the feast of St. Nicholas in a special way.  Here are a couple of pictures son #1's wife sent us from their celebration.

And son #2's wife was sure to let us know that their oversized St. Nicholas (which was a gift from us last Christmas) was part of the festivities at their house.

A few days ago, son #4's wife and four kids (triplets-5, and their little sister-3) came over to Papa and Grammy's for a play date, and I got a picture of each of them standing near our St. Nick.  I'm sharing these pictures with you because they are pretty much guaranteed to make you smile.  And also because it won't be long before they all tower over that figurine, so I want to have a record of the days when they were almost the same size as he is!

This fella is a dinosaur fanatic, which you might
have guessed.

It was a fun to give giant handcrafted wooden St. Nicks to each of our boys and their wives last year, and I hope when their children are all grown up they will be a part of their happy childhood Christmas memories.

This year, I couldn't think of anything particularly special to get or make for everyone.  Sometimes, I'm an inspired gift-giver, and sometimes I struggle.  I do so enjoy giving gifts, but that is not my main "love language" (a term I never heard used until I had daughters-in-law).  I'm what you might call bilingual: my two love languages are time spent together and acts of service.  

You probably know all about this love language stuff without me telling you.  But the other two are words of affirmation and physical touch.

All five of the love languages are great, don't get me wrong, and I hope I use them all well with the people who mean most to me.  But I'm just not fluent in gift-giving.

How about you?  What's your love language?  And does your family celebrate St. Nicholas Day in a special way? (We didn't when our boys were young, and I regret that now!)

February Made Me Shiver

I was AWOL throughout the month of February.  So I thought I'd do a quick re-cap of the Pearl family goings-on during that extended hiatus from the blog.

In early February, our granddaughter Princesa (oldest daughter of son #3) turned six.  And her Papa and I decided that as a special birthday treat, we would take her out to dinner and then shopping at Target afterward.  We went to a fun brew pub-type restaurant, arriving early enough to beat the dinner crowd, and we had the most wonderful time.  

This restaurant had mac and cheese on the kids' menu; and better yet, they included an image
of the Kraft box right there on the menu to ensure your kids would love it.  (Ours did.)

That little girl was absolutely adorable throughout our "date night" together.  Her mom had warned us that she would be thrilled, but would probably be a bit shy on her own and not say a whole lot.  Nothing could have been further from the truth!  She was so animated and chatty all night.  It made us realize that this is something we need to start doing with all of our grandchildren when they get old enough to behave for it/appreciate it.  With 18 of them now, and another on the way any day, it's getting harder and harder to get good quality one-on-one time with each precious child.  When the whole gang is at our house for a family party, it's utter chaos (in the best way of course; but still...chaos).

Our second-born son also had an early February birthday, and we were able to celebrate it by having dinner with him at his house, with his wife and four young sons.  (I brought the cake!)

I LOVE the way Junior, his oldest son, is looking at my boy here!

I told you not too long ago that our oldest son and his family were moving away to Iowa, after living a stone's throw from us in VA for more than four years.  About a week-and-a-half into February, we drove out there to see their new digs and offer whatever help we could after the birth of their new baby girl, who'd been born two weeks ahead of schedule in late January.  This sweet little peanut has four older sisters, aged 10, 10, 8, and 6, and a 3-and-a-half-year-old brother.

My boy and his girl.  Is this not the sweetest?!

It was so wonderful to see all of them, of course, but also to see their new house and their new town, so that when I think of them I can picture them in their new surroundings. When we got there, the baby was still struggling to gain weight, but by the time we left two weeks later, she was doing great.  Her little cheeks had gotten visibly rounder during our stay.  And what a little angel she is!

One thing I did find out during those two weeks in February: five years of living in VA has made me SOFT!  Not that I ever liked being cold; but I did, after all, grow up in Upstate NY and raise my boys in NH, so I had to be tough.  I've survived many a brutal Nor'easter.   I am no stranger to snow and ice and below-freezing temperatures.  But yikes!  It was cold out there in Iowa!  Windy and cold.  BRRRR!

There was one mild day, however, and we took advantage of it by going for a walk with the five older kids along the country road on which they live.

Those fields will soon be full of corn!

It was sweet to see how much the older girls doted on their baby sister.  She has a lot of loving mothers dying to hold her, that's for sure.

Beautiful!

We returned from Iowa on Saturday, Feb. 26.  And remember that chaos I alluded to earlier in this post?  Well, on Sunday, Feb. 27 we hosted a little Mardi Gras party for our VA gang: sons #2, #3, and #4, their wives, and their 12 kids aged 7 and under.  (We would have waited until the official "Fat Tuesday" on March 1, the night before the start of Lent; but it's hard to get everyone together on school/work nights.)  I bought all the paper goods and party favors well ahead of time, and I made a lasagna and a King Cake before we left for Iowa and put them in the freezer.  Each family contributed side dishes to the meal, so I had minimal work to do for the party when we got back home. We didn't have much time to rest up from our travels before the festivities, but I was anxious to see everyone as soon as possible after being away for so long.  

Even though my husband and I had never hosted a Mardi Gras party the whole time we were raising our family, we have now had three of them down here in VA.  So it appears that it's becoming a bit of a tradition for us with the grandchildren!

I guess that about wraps it up.  We've been busy since we got back from Iowa.  We go to daily Mass.  We've been having our twice-weekly playdates with son #4's wife and four kids (Braveheart makes the 35-minute drive on Tuesdays and Thursdays so the triplets can attend a Catholic pre-school in our town).

We've done a bit of babysitting here and there, and a bit of visiting.  One night last week, son #2 (who lives about 50 minutes north of us) and sons #3 and #4 (who live about 35 minutes south) met up to see the new Batman movie at the little theater in our town.  And afterward, they came by our house to say hi and grab coffees-to-go.  I cannot tell you what a joy it is for their dad and me just to have them around, to hear them talking and laughing.  We don't even care if we're part of their conversation; just having them hanging out together under our roof and listening to the sound of their voices makes us so happy.  (No matter how old they get, they will always be my boys!  Always.)

I miss our two boys from whom we are separated, geographically--so much that it often brings me to tears.  However, I know just how lucky a mom and grandmother I am.  It's such a blessing to have so many of our family members living nearby.  Our kids are our best friends, truly; but there's been a surprising  development in recent months: we've gotten to be good friends with a couple we met at church--a couple who moved here about a year ago and whose reasons for relocating are very much like ours.  It took almost five years of adjusting to our "new" life in VA, but we are beginning to make connections, and we have our wonderful little parish to thank for that!  But more on that later.

Until next time...

A Date to Remember, A Life to Celebrate

Yesterday was the 48th anniversary of "Will You Go with Me?"

August 6 is a red letter day on my calendar every year because it's the day my husband and I officially started dating, when we were just a couple of crazy 15-year-old kids way, way back in 1973. (I blogged about this memorable date nine years ago--see link above--and here I am bringing it up again.)

When we were 15, we could never have imagined what was in store for us in the coming decades.  We could never have predicted that we would actually stay together forever and how very blessed we would be.  We were the best of friends, and quite smitten; yet we couldn't know then that we would end up married seven years later, become the parents of five incredible sons, and one day get to play the best role of all, as Papa and Grammy to 17-going-on-18 beloved grandchildren.

We thought 63 was older than dirt, simply unimaginable; and yet here we are.  We blinked a few times and 63 happened.

Youth is marvelous, but fleeting, and some spend their later years trying desperately to hang onto it; but there are perks that come with getting older, gifts one can only receive after numerous trips around the sun.

One such gift was a recent phone call from our oldest son, with the happy news that he and his wife are expecting baby #6, which is especially wonderful after two tragic miscarriages in the past year or so. They have gotten through the first trimester and heard a healthy heartbeat, and we are all over the moon about this precious little soul who will be the 18th grandchild with us here, God willing.  (We also have five wee saints in Heaven, watching over all of us.)

Another such gift was a pair of photos, sent by daughter-in-law Ginger (wife of son #2), of her hubby and our youngest son and his wife. Son #5, who was a captain in the Army, just became a civilian again and is getting ready to start grad school.  He and his wife Babisiu, who will celebrate their second anniversary in September, had some free time before beginning the next chapter of their life in Nashville, and they drove to VA to see all the brothers.   It looks like #5 is trying to emulate #2 with the facial hair; but that (along with his long-ish locks) is actually a mild rebellion after ten years (four of Army ROTC, six of active duty) of having to sport a clean-shaven face and a "high and tight" haircut.

You can't have pictures like these of your children if you're in your 20's or 30's or 40’s.  You have to get as long in the tooth as we are to have a second-born son who is 36 and the father of four, and a baby who is 28...

Or a 35-year-old third-born son who poses in matching polo shirts with his six-year-old firstborn son, the oldest of his brood of four.

How adorable are those two guys? 

I can't sign off without mentioning son #4.  He is the 33-year-old father of almost-four-year-old triplets plus a toddler.  His is a very full and crazy life, as you can imagine, and we are so proud of the way he and his wife have handled it all.

These are my blessings, my life, my joy.  And it all started when the cutest boy I'd ever known asked me to go steady--or "go with"--him, many (I mean many!) years ago.

Happy Birthday to Son #2!

There are so many birthdays in January and February in this family!  The latest was yesterday, when our second-born son turned 36. 

36?!  I would like to know how this is even possible! Because to repeat myself here at the blog for the umpteenth time, yesterday is about when it seems like he was born!  Just the other day, he looked like THIS (he is the one who probably resembles me the most, as you can see from this side-by-side comparison picture, which I've shared a number of times here at the blog already).

And now he's a married father of four adorable young boys to whom I am not "Grammy," but "Ree Ree" (their own unique derivative of my grandmother title that I kind of hope they never decide to stop using).

My husband and I are so happy that our move south to VA means that we now live close enough to son #2 (and three of his brothers) to drive over on a weeknight to have a celebratory birthday dinner with him at his house, like we did last night.  We sang Happy Birthday, along with his boys, and then enjoyed the cake I'd made to his oldest son Junior's specifications.  (For some reason, Junior knew that the ideal cake for his dad would be a rainbow cake--and when he saw how it had turned out, he pronounced it "perfect!")

Son #2's wife Ginger and I talk often these days about our similar experiences as boy moms.  She gets a lot of the same kind of "Poor you!" comments I used to get from people who didn't understand the inexplicably awesome enterprise of raising all male children.  She once said to me, "I feel sorry for people who feel sorry for people who have all boys!"  Well said, in my opinion.  My boys always were, and still are, such a joy to me.  And this husband of hers has always been an extremely special boy (I'm not just saying that because I'm his mom!).

Our second-born has always that "it factor," that thing that drew others to him, even when he was a little guy. He's the best storyteller ever, and he can take the most mundane event and turn it into a crowd-pleaser.  He makes us laugh, and there's almost nothing more satisfying than amusing him enough to hear his deep, booming belly-laugh. My husband and I love to watch him roughhousing, joking, and playing with his boys, who clearly adore him.  He has a serious side, too; ever since he was very young, he's had an ability to sense emotional undercurrents and inherently know when someone is sad or upset.  (He even reads into my texts sometimes, when I think they seem pretty normal, and gets in touch to find out if something is bothering me, because he doesn't think I sound like myself.  I won't say how often he's right!)  Because of this, he is often the one his brothers contact when they just need to vent about something; he's understanding, gives great advice, and just has really broad shoulders to lean on.  I could go on about how brilliant he is--a former high school math teacher, now a data scientist--but I don't want him to get a big head.  (Ha ha!)

I can't imagine my life or our family without this guy in it, and I hope he knows just how much he is loved  He likes to joke that he's my favorite child, even though he knows that I don't have favorites.  (You do know that, right, son?)  But on their birthdays, my boys get to be the favorite for a day; so yesterday, son #2, you had the top spot!  

Happy Birthday, and here's to many, many more!

Looking for Beauty in a Broken World

I was going to say "an ugly world," because that's how I often feel these days after watching a horrifying news story featuring the violent rioting in the streets of our cities or one of those ever-changing reports about the Covid-19 pandemic (which apparently has no end in sight, or maybe it does, or who knows?). But if I let myself go down the rabbit hole of worry, anxiety, and sadness that opens up before me, I'm afraid I'll fall into a dark pit of despair and get truly depressed deep down in my soul.  And I know that no matter what, Our Lady promised at Fatima that in the end, Her Immaculate Heart would triumph.  And She keeps Her promises.  So there's hope, always.

The world is damaged, but still beautiful; broken but still fixable.  And I want it fixed, ASAP, for the 28 (and counting!) people who mean the most to me: my children and grandchildren.

Not to put a morbid spin on things, but relatively speaking, I will probably not be long for this earth.  The average life expectancy for a woman in the US today is 81.1 years (I just looked it up), and I'm about to celebrate my 62nd birthday; so if I get another 20 years in this life, I will have done better than average.  My husband and I have talked about this frequently as of late--but when we do, it's not to fill ourselves with an ever-present fear of dying, but rather to remind ourselves that we should live every single minute of every single day to the fullest.  And most importantly, we remind ourselves that we should strive, to the best of our frail human abilities, to keep our immortal souls in a state of grace.

So it's not for myself that I worry about the chaotic state of the world, or even for my husband; I desperately want it to heal for all of my beloved offspring and their beloved offspring.

I also want it to heal before religious freedom is eradicated in this country.  With so much hate-fueled violence exploding all over the place in recent weeks, I expect that the mob might come next for the Catholic Church and Her faithful, who have already been weakened by months of being denied Mass and the Sacraments, especially the Eucharist.  But Christ warned us that they would hate us because they hated Him first, so this is something we need to prepare to face.

But I refuse to despair completely!  I am putting my trust in Our Lady's promise.  And I look at the faces of the people I love and believe that God will make something good come out of all this bad we're experiencing these days.  He loves us and wants the best for us, and as long as we stay faithful there is no force that can destroy us!

Look for beauty wherever you can find it.  I find it in images like these--all photos texted to me recently by my by daughters-in-law Ginger and Preciosa.

Son #2 with his #3 son.

Son #3's most recent family photo.

Son #2's firstborn, giving Ree Ree a moment of extreme 

deja vu--because his dad and his uncles were as crazy

about dinosaurs back in the day as he is!

I can almost feel my pulse rate slowing down when I walk away from all the negative stories on social media and look at these pictures.  They make me believe that all will be well.  We just need to pray lots of Rosaries!