I come from a large Irish Catholic family. My mom is one of six and we try to get together with my grandfather, aunts, uncles and the greater extension of cousins during the holidays. In recent years, we have been seen as pink mob traversing the streets of Baltimore during the first weekend of May. The month that Jack was born (six years ago) one of my uncles was diagnosed with ALS - he was essentially given a death sentence. Four years ago, my family banded together to raise funds and awareness in the effort to support The Robert Packard Center for ALS Research at Johns Hopkins. I have had my kids and husband participate in Fiesta 5K walk/fun run each year. So, while Emma does not know what ALS is exactly, she has known that our walk was centered around my uncle. On March 15th I had to do what all parents dread/fear/don't want to do, I told my children that my Uncle Gary had died. There is no way to prepare a person to say the words, or how to say them. Straight up, it sucks!
Emma looked at me, tears in her baby blue eyes and told me not to be sad. 'Mom, I saw him go to Heaven today. You don't have to worry about him anymore.' I was completely baffled. It was I who should have been consoling the kids, not the reverse! 'Emma, I only just told you - how could you... you were at school!?'
'We were outside for a fire drill this afternoon, the sky was all cloudy except for one opening that had sun rays pouring out of it. I knew that someone was going to Heaven, if he died during my fire drill, it must have been Uncle Gary.' She was so matter-of-fact.
A small bit of background - each summer my parents moved us to the mountains in northeast Vermont. In the afternoon, the skies there are filled with amazing clouds. And, typically, at sunset the rays are dispersed all over. It is absolutely beautiful. Every so often there would be just one opening and my Mom and I would say that someone must be going to Heaven. I have relayed this to Emma, however, never realized how much she clung to the idea. Sure enough, her school had an afternoon fire drill and she immediately drew recognition to her observation.
Now, I usually have dry humor laced through my posts - this one is a bit more out of the ordinary. But, to attempt to keep the theme running... As a candidate for Catholic Mother of the Year I have Emma in CCD, or religious education class. I failed to register her on time last year, so she is being home-schooled. Let me just tell you, oi ve! She has a set number of prayers that she must be able to recite at the end of the year to show that I have been a great role model. Each night at dinner I have her pick a prayer and (make her) practice so that she can show me she knows more than one, and to hopefully drill these prayers into the heads of her brothers. Some nights there are special 'holy wars' over this ritual. I often feel like saying 'Just pick a prayer, ANY prayer!'. The night my uncle died I was setting the table for dinner and the kids - sensing my sadness - plopped into their seats without the usual touching and quibbling. Before I could even begin to request that someone say the blessing Emma began. She had chosen The Guardian Angel prayer.
'Angel of God, My Guardian Dear, to whom God's love commits me here,
ever this day be at my side, to light and guard, to rule and guide.'
Emma is nine. While she watches her brothers do wild and wacky things that drive me to the brink, she keeps me anchored and makes me feel as though I have been doing something right!
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For more information... http://www.alscenter.org/
Or, to join the O'Connor family (Team Low and Slow) and all families that have been scarred by ALS... http://support.alscenter.org/site/TR/Runs/2012Fiesta?team_id=3790&pg=team&fr_id=1100
