How Old Is Old?

Today I became, according to our diocese here in central Florida, a Senior Deacon...Ta-da!

On a number of occasions parishioners, noticing that several deacons are listed in our Parish Bulletin as "senior deacons," have asked me, "What does a deacon have to do to become a senior deacon?" I think they assume the title must be conferred as a reward for some great accomplishment. When I tell them that seniority among deacons is strictly a function of age, they seem both surprised and disappointed. In other words, for a deacon to become a senior deacon he must have been born 75 years ago and still be able to fog a mirror. And today, for the very first time, I qualify.

I was born in the midst of World War II, just a few months after D-Day. But for my mom and dad a more immediate concern was the Great Atlantic Hurricane of 1944 which reached its peak intensity as a category 4 on, you guessed it, September 13. A few days later it roared through coastal New York, Connecticut, and Rhode Island making things a bit difficult for my mom. I don't know the details, but I can confirm that she made it to the hospital -- St. Vincent Hospital in Bridgeport, Connecticut -- and I was the result.

Today then, is my 75th birthday. I'm not a superstitious man, but today is also Friday the 13th, an interesting day to turn 75. But that's not all. This evening the heavens will also mark my birthday with a bright Harvest Moon, a full moon that rises just after sunset during the early fall months, this year in September. Take a moment this evening to step outside and glimpse our planet's nearest neighbor, to contemplate God's goodness and thank Him for the beauty and wonder of His Creation. 

I've been enjoying the clear pre-dawn mornings as Maddie and I take our dalily walk through our neighborhood. She tends to look downward so she can revisit the smells of the recent past. But I look upward and revisit the sights of a much more distant past. This morning I noticed that Betelgeuse, a red giant star in Orion, was particularly bright. At over 600 light years away, the orange dot we see is the result of light that began its journey at the end of the 14th century. I once read that Betelgeuse is one of those relatively short-lived stars -- only a few million years old -- that might well go supernova (i.e., explode) sometime during the next 1,000 years or so. Indeed, it could already have done so, but the visible effects simply haven't reached us yet. One astronomer wrote that this would be a truly spectacular sight, one that would rival the full moon in its brightness. By the way, Betelgeuse is so large, that if it replaced our sun, it would fill our solar system all the way out to Jupiter and perhaps even beyond. In other words, Earth would be inside this massive star, not a good place to be. Indeed, this star is so big I believe it's the only star (other than our sun) that we've been able to photograph and actually see its disk.

Betelgeuse compared to our solar system

I've long believed that God's gift of the universe helps us see our own lives more clearly. How wonderful that the God who created this magnificent universe has a personal and deep love for every person He has created. So often we get so wrapped up in the earthly problems that plague us, we think that only we can solve them, that we must solve them ourselves. Either we never consider asking God for help, or we assume He can't be bothered to deal with our petty concerns. But that's not how God is. The fact that He sent His Son to become one of us, to offer His life for us, is proof enough of His deep love for every human person. This is why it's good to look up at His universe every so often, just to remind ourselves how great God truly is. His Creation gives us a glimpse of His infinite power, something far beyond anything we can even imagine. God can handle anything. We need only ask.

Today I received a few pleasant and unexpected birthday phone calls, text messages, and emails...even a few snail-mail cards. The first call was from a Naval Academy classmate (1967), Buddy Barnes, whom I've probably seen only once or twice since we completed Naval flight training back in 1968. How kind of Buddy to call. We ended up talking for a good half-hour, just telling stories about our common experiences and the people we both knew way back when. Buddy left the Navy to fly for American Airlines and like most of us is now retired. He hopes to visit us here in Florida next year. It will be good to see him again. 

I also received calls from my two sons, Ethan and Brendan, and from my daughter, Erin, who was joined by four of her five children as they serenaded me with a peppy "Happy Birthday." The grandchildren all seemed surprised to learn how old I was...not a good sign. Young Eddie, however, was kind enough to say, "Well. Papa, you don't look that old." 

I intend to goof off this evening and trust all who read these words also give thanks for the blessings they have received.

Home Again

Late last week Dear Diane and I returned home from an almost month-long trip to visit children and grandchildren. The trip was precipitated by two events: one grandson's Confirmation in Massachusetts, and another's First Communion in California. Unfortunately, both events were scheduled for the same day, and the need for grand-parental attendance at each demanded some creative scheduling. We drove from Florida to Massachusetts, spent some time with one son and his family in New Bedford, then visited with one daughter and her family in Hyannis. After several days Diane flew to San Jose, California for the First Communion, while I remained on Cape Cod for the Confirmation. She then returned so we could spend a weekend with our other son and his family on Nantucket Island. Miraculously, we actually managed to spend some time with each of our children, their spouses, and our grandchildren. I suppose that makes it a successful trip.

Adding to the success was the opportunity to swap houses with another deacon and his wife. Deacon Joe, who was ordained about 30 seconds before me back on May 24, 1997, and his wife, Ann, wanted to spend a few weeks in The Villages and we wanted to do the same on Cape Cod. He and Ann have a lovely, old Cape Cod home in South Chatham, just about three miles from where Dear Diane and I lived for 25 years. It's also just a short drive to our elder daughter's home in Hyannis, which she shares with her husband and five of our grandchildren. And so the exchange was made.

I think we got the better deal. Despite the weather -- 40s, 50s, and too much rain -- every morning Maddie (our little Bichon Frise) and I would get up early and take a long walk down to the beach. I think she enjoyed the change of pace from our usual strolls around The Villages. I know I did. After our walk I'd feed the dog, then sit by the bay window, pray Morning Prayer, and sip my coffee while enjoying the songs and flights of the local bird population. What a wonderful way to begin the day.

Taking a few weeks off from a busy retirement in sunny Florida was exactly what I needed. Our temporary home turned out to be the perfect refuge from worldly cares and the pressures of multiple ministries. The only downside was Dear Diane's absence which put Maddie and me into a five-day funk. And to top it off, Dear Diane had to suffer the consequences of my cost-saving  travel arrangements which resulted in plane changes going and coming. She's a real trooper, though, and despite some tight connections, made it to San Jose and back to Providence on time, along with her baggage. I had blessed her and her luggage during check-in and had full confidence that all would go well. God is good!

One evening during her absence, and more tired than usual, I turned on the TV and stumbled onto the NFL draft. I did something I had never done before: I actually watched it. It was the first night of the draft, which included round one and part of round two. Why I watched this I cannot say. I'm not a big fan of professional sports. The huge amounts of money involved only create a breeding ground for corruption and distorted values, just one more effect of original sin. I also believe our professional athletes, like most of today's celebrities, are generally poor role models for young people. Yeah, I know...I've turned into a curmudgeon.

Anyway, watching the draft was mesmerizing. Just observing these future professional athletes -- their over-the-top clothing and jewelry, their attitudes and comments -- was both fascinating and more than a little depressing. Many of these young men, barely out of childhood, seemed completely wrapped up in themselves, convinced that they actually deserve the millions that will be thrown at them in the weeks to come. Sadly, if experience is any guide, despite the millions, many will be flat broke ten years from now.

As one young man said, "Football is my life!" I suspect he is not alone in believing this, even though many NFL draftees will never play in a regular season game. And among those who actually make the team and sign a rookie contract, most will play for only two or three years. And then what? Did they really get an education that will allow them to succeed in a world that places little value on their athletic prowess once they're off the field? They certainly possess some level of physical courage, but did they develop the moral courage needed to live good, productive lives? One can only hope they will come to an understanding of what is truly important in life, and do so sooner rather than later.

The trip up and down the East Coast also provided an opportunity to spend a few days with dear old friends in Virginia, the Lees, and in South Carolina, the Hathaways. Now that I think about it, our trip was characterized by what can only be called mooching. We exchanged houses with friends, visited other friends en route, and didn't spend a single night in a hotel. Ah well...at least all our friends know that they are welcome to do the same when they come to Florida to escape the cold and snows of winter.

We had a wonderful time, but as Dorothy said, "There's no place like home."

Homily: Wednesday, 3rd Week of Lent

Readings: Dt 4:1, 5-9; Ps 147; Mt 5:17-19

I remember the first time one of my children openly disagreed with me. Trust me, it came as a shock.

It was our elder daughter, and I think she was probably 11 or 12 at the time, perhaps even younger. I had pontificated about something at the dinner table, not expecting anything but full agreement, when she said, “No, Dad, I think you’re wrong about that.” The shock was so great I can’t even recall the subject of our disagreement. I remember thinking only, “Our family life is about to undergo a radical change. These children of ours are more than little clones. They’re actually beginning to think for themselves.”

Of course, the four of them had no doubt been thinking for themselves and disagreeing with me for years, but had wisely chosen to remain silent. I also realized that in the future I’d have to give a little thought to what I intended to say or I’d end up having to defend my every utterance.

Naturally, I didn’t change at all. I still pontificated at the dinner table, saying whatever entered my mind. In truth I expected agreement and obedience without having to teach. And as you might expect, our children grew ever bolder in challenging me. This all came to mind thanks to today’s readings.

In Deuteronomy Moses tells God’s People:

“…take care and be earnestly on your guard not to forget the things which your own eyes have seen, nor let them slip from your memory as long as you live, but teach them to your children and to your children’s children” [Dt 4:9].

Then we hear Jesus in the Gospel:

“…whoever breaks one of the least of these commandments and teaches others to do so will be called least in the Kingdom of heaven. But whoever obeys and teaches these commandments will be called greatest in the Kingdom of heaven” [Mt 5:19]

In Moses and Jesus, the Old and New Testaments come together, one pointing to the other, one fulfilling the other – and yet both offering the same Word of God.

Moses pleads with us: Don’t forget. Teach them to your children and your children’s children.

And Jesus demands of us: Obey and teach these commandments.

I’m sure you noticed one of the themes common to both: the call to teach. Yes, both call us to teach, and I wonder to myself…

How well did I teach my children? Did I simply tell them what to think, what to believe, how to act…? Or did I really teach? Did I let them question and probe? Did I help guide them to the truth? Or did I simply tell them and expect unquestioning obedience?

To teach well is hard work because it demands that we place another, the one being taught, above ourselves. It demands humility. And when it comes to teaching the Word of God, the best teacher is the one who lives the Word of God.

This leads us to the second common theme found in our two readings. Both Moses and Jesus also call us to obey. But notice they don’t tell us to extract obedience from others. They don’t tell us to force our children to obey the commandments. No, Moses and Jesus both tell us, the teachers, to do the obeying. For we teach best by how we live. We teach best by our own obedience.

To teach another well, to teach as Jesus taught, means taking the commandments to heart. It means loving our God with all that we have and are, and loving our neighbor as ourselves. Benedict XVI, preaching on the parable of the Good Samaritan, once said:

“Struck in his soul by the lightning flash of mercy, he himself now becomes a neighbor, heedless of any question or danger. The burden of the question thus shifts here. The issue is no longer which other person is a neighbor to me or not. The question is about me. I have to become the neighbor, and when I do, the other person counts for me ‘as myself.’”

Here, too, we encounter the attitude of the true Christian teacher.

Here we find the attitude of the good parent and grandparent.

Here we find the one who is able to love the other as he loves himself

Here we find the one who can lift the other, the one who can bring the other closer to God.

Grandchildren, et al.

I haven't posted much lately, but I have an excuse. We've had visitors...special visitors.

Dear Diane and I had two wonderful weeks to enjoy our elder daughter, Erin, and five of our grandchildren who came here to Florida for a visit. Our son-in-law was unable to make the trip because of work so he was absent from the picture we had made during his family's stay with us. I suppose I could "photo-shop" him into the picture, but that might be beyond my limited capabilities. He'll just have to wait until the next family photo-op. Here's the photo of Mama and her five little ones...

At the same time we were also blessed by a visit of our younger son and his bride of six months who spent several days with us on their way to a vacation ever father south in the Florida Keys. Because every square inch of our modest home had been claimed by the grandchildren, son and daughter-in-law stayed at a nearby hotel and spent their days with us.

On one of our excursions we spent the day at the Homosassa State Park in Homosassa Springs, Florida so we could see the manatees and other critters and birds native to our state. We all had a great time and enjoyed a nice lunch of seafood at a nearby waterfront restaurant. That's where the below photo of our son, Brendan, and his wife, Amari, was taken.

The good news about retiring in Florida is that our children and grandchildren like to visit, especially when the northern weather is cold. The bad news? They don't do it often enough.

We miss them all.

Thoughts on Returning Home

Amari, the Bride

Well, Diane and I are home once again, after another three-week absence. This time we drove to Massachusetts for the wedding of our youngest, Brendan, who married the beautiful Amari on October 1 on Nantucket Island.

We avoided the unfriendly skies and drove, largely because I simply enjoy driving. Not only do we experience the country up close but we also avoid the minor terrors associated with airports and TSA. Driving for me has become a quiet form of protest, one I will be forced to set aside when we take our next overseas trip, unless we discover an affordable way to travel by sea. One hopes that these rather mild public criticisms will not by captured by an NSA supercomputer thus elevating me to a category of traveler routinely subjected to strip searches and cavity inspections.

While in Massachusetts we visited each of our four grown children and their spouses...and our eight absolutely wonderful grandchildren. Since our children live in four different parts of the state, we divided our time among them all, and ended up spending about four days with each family. We enjoyed these brief visits immensely and were pleased that the grandchildren hadn't forgotten us since our previous trip in May. Living here in Florida, nearly 1,500 miles from our grandchildren, generates a fear that the little ones will glance at me as I walk through the front door, turn to their mother and say, "Who's the old guy?" Well, so far so good, although one-year-old Ben took a little while to warm up to us.

Grandchildren: Pedro, Camilla, Carlos, Eduardo, Ezekiel, Phineas, Verionica, Benedito

The wedding of Amari and Brendan was beautiful and the unpredictable Nantucket weather cooperated and gave us a warm, sparkling day, the kind of day one hopes for when visiting New England in the autumn months.

Our four children: Siobhan, Brendan, Erin, Ethan

Later, at the celebratory party after the wedding, I sat in a chair sipping a glass of rather good, but unnamed, Cabernet. I took real pleasure watching our four children enjoying the day as they talked and laughed with each other and caught up on family things.

As parents of grown children we often forget the good that we did as we struggled to raise our children, recalling only the mistakes we made. I've decided to forget those as well because I can no longer do anything about them. About all I can do now is offer quiet advice when it's asked for, pray that their marriages and children will bring them some of the same happiness and joy Diane and I have experienced, and turn everything else over to our merciful, loving God.

Our very 1950s family. That's me on the left.

Happy in the presence of my children, I found my thoughts drifting back to my parents and my only sibling, my brother, Jeff. It's at times like these that I miss them the most. My mother died over 30 years ago, my father died in 2005 at the age of 95, and Jeff died suddenly two years ago at 68. Thinking about them all I suddenly realized, Hey, that leaves only me. I'm now the family patriarch. There's no one else to pick up the patriarchal mantle and offer wise advice based on a lifetime of lessons learned. I suppose being the family patriarch would have far greater meaning if the later generations actually paid any attention to what I said. Yes, it would seem being the patriarch is a distinction that means little more than quite likely being the next male in the family to die. Happy thought.

But that's okay. There's an old Irish blessing: May you live to see your children's children. It would seem the Irish borrowed it from the Jews (Psalm 128:6). And that, too, is okay, since the Irish and the Jews are very much alike in so many ways. If a psalmist hadn't written it, no doubt some Irish poet would have. Anyway, I always thought it a rather strange blessing. After all, don't most people live to see their grandchildren? But then I thought about my own family. My mother's parents died long before I was born, so I knew only two of my grandparents. My paternal grandfather died when I was just five years old and I have only vague memories of visiting him at a VA hospital in Connecticut. He was a veteran of the Spanish-American War and the Boxer Rebellion, and I can still picture him, sitting in a wooden rocker and wearing a plaid bathrobe over his pajamas. He looked so very ill, but as he noticed his two grandsons walking through the doorway, his face brightened into a wide smile. What a perfect memory! It is how I shall always remember him.

My grandmother was really the only grandparent I knew well, and because she lived with us for several years, I have many fond memories of her. She died when I was 15. And so I really knew only one of my grandparents well. I suppose, then, compared to many of my recent ancestors, I am truly blessed.

Earlier this afternoon Diane and I completed a nice 20-minute Skype video call with our elder daughter, Erin, and her five children. Watching the four eldest -- ages four to ten -- crowd together to get into the picture and tell us about their day and what costumes they hope to wear on Halloween was a true joy. Technology can be both curse and blessing, but in this instance it's certainly the latter. One cannot even imagine how our grandchildren will communicate with their grandchildren 50 years from now.

Family is a great consolation and now that I'm an orphan at age 67 I can't imagine what life would be like if I had no children, no grandchildren, no family.

Wise little boys

Ezekiel & Phineas

It's early evening and I'm sitting here with two of my grandsons watching a rather strange animated show, "Fireman Sam", on Sprout. For those of you not blessed with either children or grandchildren, Sprout is a cable network offering fare for the pre-school crowd. The show is strange -- at least to me -- because it features a nasty little boy named Norman who time and again causes major, and usually costly, chaos in his small community and yet is still permitted to live there. After watching only three episodes I was ready to keelhaul the little brat, but the townsfolk, afflicted with an overabundance of tolerance, never cease to forgive Norman. Deep down I recognize the value of the show's message, but Norman pushes the envelope. It would also seem I have a problem suspending my disbelief when faced with fictional Normans. My two grandsons, of course, enjoy the show immensely and have no trouble recognizing the absurdity of Norman and his over the top selfishness. They also applaud the townspeople and their continual forgiveness -- "not seven times, but seventy-seven times." And I thought grandfathers were supposed to be a family's source of all things wise.

Live and learn...


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Location:N. Andover, Massachusetts

Back Home Again

Eddie

Verionica

As you know -- if you're a regular reader -- Diane and I spent the past three weeks in Massachusetts visiting our children and grandchildren. Despite the horrible weather, we had a wonderful time making the rounds from Cape Cod to New Bedford and then to North Andover. As we drove south we took the inland route so I could avoid the insanity of I-95. It also allowed us to visit our good friends, Nancy & Joe Hathaway, in Ocoee, Tennessee, as well as a few of Diane's cousins in the Atlanta area. For obvious reasons I didn't spend much time posting things on the blog, but now that we're back home and warm once again, I hope to ease back into my previous routine. I've included photos of all eight our beautiful grandchildren here -- photos I took during our trip -- so you can see what keeps us going north, even when the weather is less than inviting.

Carlos

Ben

Even though we didn't get home until last night, Diane was up at 5:30 this morning so she could resume her duties as the Thursday cook at the Wildwood Soup Kitchen. After running some necessary errands, I joined her and her team of volunteers later this morning. My time at the soup kitchen is what I miss the most when we're away, and so it was wonderful to be there again after our three-week absence. Of course working at the soup kitchen also leaves me with sore muscles, tired feet, and a need for an afternoon nap -- all symptoms of my senior citizenship.

Pedro

Ezekiel

Advancing age has brought with it some other interesting side-effects, one of which is increasing absentmindedness. This morning, for example, my errands included a stop at Sam's Club to pick up two pair of glasses I had ordered before our trip. When I entered the optical shop, one of the opticians greeted me and asked me to take a seat. I told him I was there to pick up my glasses and he immediately went across the room to a cabinet and selected two pair from the hundred or so in the cabinet. He returned, handed me one pair and asked me to put them on. I recognized them as a pair of bifocals I had ordered, put them on, checked them for both reading and distance, and told him they were perfect. I did the same with the other pair, but throughout it all I wondered how he could have known who I was since I had never given him my name. I also knew I had never seen him before. When I ordered the glasses the optician on duty that day was a woman. Finally, as he handed me my new glasses, along with my prescription, and thanked me, I had to ask, "Excuse me, but we've never met. How could you have possibly known my name? I'm certain I never mentioned it." He just pointed to my shirt on which was clipped a name tag from the Wildwood Soup Kitchen. I had attached it there earlier that morning and forgotten to remove it when I left. I'm glad I asked him; otherwise I might have thought he had psychic powers and I really don't believe in such things. It would have been hard to explain, if only to myself.

Camilla

Phineas

I've actually come to accept most of these age-induced side-effects. I've never been an extremely physical person but for most of my life was blessed with a good metabolism that kept my weight down and allowed me to stay in shape with only very moderate exercise. This is no longer true, but the fact that I would probably not survive a three-mile jog really doesn't bother me. It does, however, bother Diane, and so tomorrow she is inaugurating a serious diet and exercise plan with the goal of returning me to a more mature version of my former slim, trim and healthy self. I'll try not to cheat or allow my inevitable grumpiness to infect future posts.

On the Road Again...in Thanksgiving

We're still on the road, up in New England making the rounds by visiting all the grandchildren and trying mightily to leave them a bit more spoiled than they were when we arrived. After our first week on Cape Cod visiting our elder daughter, her husband, and their five little ones, we've spent the past four days with our elder son, his wife, and our one-year-old granddaughter. Our routine didn't vary much, regardless of whom we were visiting. As doting grandparents we arrived each morning, played with grandchildren, took them out to eat a few times, enjoyed a picnic and a day at the zoo in Providence, played some more, and generally had a delightful time. Tomorrow we leave for North Andover, Massachusetts to visit our younger daughter and her family (husband and two boys) before heading back to Florida.

This morning, being Sunday, Diane and I attended Mass at St. George's Catholic Church in Westport, Massachusetts, just about a mile from our hotel. The celebrant, a priest who was brought up in the parish and has been ordained for ten years, had never celebrated Mass at St. George's until today. He had come this morning to baptize his grand niece and so we had a special treat right after the homily as we all celebrated the baptism of this beautiful little child.

After Mass Diane and I sat down for breakfast at a highly acclaimed local restaurant which neither of us thought worthy of the acclaim. Although the breakfast wasn't particularly noteworthy, there was a lot of it and so exceptional quantity and excellent service trumped the decidedly unexceptional quality and I left the restaurant happy. Later on we took our son and his family out to dinner at a local steak house and then played some more with our granddaughter. We finally returned to the hotel at 9 p.m., almost past our bedtime.

I suppose I shouldn't complain too much about the quality of the restaurant meals we consume during our trip. We should be thankful for our daily bread since so many do without. I was actually thinking about this last night after Evening Prayer. So much of my personal prayer is devoted to petition, always asking God for help or to fulfill my wants which I cleverly disguise as needs. A brief review of my past and current life and all its blessings should lead me to devote most of my prayer to thanksgiving. And yet, how infrequently I seem to thank God. Perhaps a daily prayer of thanksgiving, especially at night before bed, might help me  come to accept my total dependence on Father, Son and Spirit and the love of the Holy Trinity. Maybe this...

I thank you, Father, for life,
for the gift of my very being.
I thank you for this world
and for the incomprehensible
beauty and depth and breadth
of your creation.
I thank you for your love,
the love that is first cause,
the reason for all being,
a love that takes us beyond ourselves
and gives us hope for eternity.
I thank you for those I love
and for those who love me,
all brought into my life by you.
And, Father, I thank you
for your most remarkable gift,
the gift our your only Son.
What a display of love!
You let him humble himself
and by so doing lift us
to a dignity far beyond our worth.

I thank you, Jesus, for you,
the creative Word of God,
who became God's incarnate Word.
Yes, I thank you for the Incarnation,
the event of events
which binds all history,
the only event that makes sense
of every atom and moment of creation.
I thank you for your revealing Word,
the Sacred Word of Scripture,
the Apostolic Word of Tradition.
I thank you for the Gospel, 
for the Word made Love.
I thank you for your sacrifice,
the inexplicable giving of yourself
for my salvation and that of all.
I thank you for your Easter gift,
the gift of hope,
for extending our desperate lives
to eternal lives,
for your Resurrection and ours.

I thank you, Spirit, for your love,
for your unutterable groanings,
for love and life within the Trinity,
a love that offers a taste
of the Three Who Are One.
I thank you for your wisdom,
the gift you share with us,
the just-for-the-asking gift
that brings us understanding
and knowledge and counsel,
I thank you for the fortitude
you offer when courage runs
and hides and I with it,
when standing behind me
you seem so distant.
I thank you for offered piety,
a piety I so often fail to grasp.
I thank you for letting me
grow in fear of the Lord,
for the love that makes me
not want to offend you.

I thank you, Trinity, for all this
and for all that I will never know
until, through your mercy,
I enter into your life.

Praise God, now and forever...

A Brief Blog-Break

Our son, daughter-in-law and granddaughter are visiting us here in Florida for a week, and so our time is fully occupied. There may be an occasional brief posting, but I don't expect I'll do very much until next week.

In the meantime, I've included a photo of my lovely Diane holding dear Verionica, age 13 months. This is one very happy child and, of course, like all of our grandchildren is both beautiful and smart.

We spent the past two days in the Tampa-Clearwater area, enjoying the sunshine and the fesh seafood. Tonight we sample some of the local barbecue right here in The Villages. Yes, being is good.

Happy New Year...Slightly Delayed

After an absolutely wonderful visit with us here in Florida, our elder daughter, our son-in-law, and five of our beautiful grandchildren returned to their Cape Cod home three days ago. Having them all here for Christmas was a special treat for us, for there's something about Christmas -- the celebration of Our Savior's birth -- that demands the presence of children. And with five little ones -- ranging in age from nine years to three-months -- staying with us for two weeks, their presence was certainly evident. We loved every minute of it.

But now the house is once again empty and silent...well, relatively empty and silent since Diane and I don't take up too much space and live a pretty quiet life together. I've resisted taking down the Christmas decorations because I enjoy them so much and their absence seems to make the house a bit less joyful. But I will finally take on that task today, place them in their boxes, and try once again to find room in the attic. Like the Church, as it makes its way through the liturgical year, we will return to more "ordinary" time and begin to focus on Our Lord's pilgrimage to Calvary and the promise of the Resurrection, along with our own pilgrimage as we strive to live the Christian life.

That we are now in the eleventh year of the 3rd millennium boggles the mind. As I age each new year seems to come more rapidly, as if time itself has been compressed making each subsequent year appreciably shorter. I'm pretty sure this apparent shortening of days is a universal perception, something we all experience, and probably results from the busyness that fills our adult lives and the fact that we have ceased being surprised at, or even noticing, what the world places before us. Most children lead lives of relative leisure, as they should. And in that leisure they are able to observe and absorb the surprises that creation offers them. So much that children encounter is new and they tend to savor that newness, enjoying all that comes their way.

If we adults could be more like children and take the time to appreciate and enjoy the remarkable creation that God has given us, perhaps time for us would slow down as well. Here in Florida, for example, we are blessed with all kinds of interesting creatures, everything from alligators to egrets, marvelous animals and birds that show off God's creative power. I particularly enjoy the large birds that gather daily in the ponds near our home. I took the photo below last year during a day-trip to the town of Dunedin on Florida's west coast. We had walked to the end of a small pier when a large egret landed right next to us, obviously looking for a handout from some of the locals who were fishing off the pier. As I approached the large bird, he obligingly turned his head, presenting me with his best side. I love the photo because in the details one can view the perfection of God's creative act. I hope you enjoy it as well. (Click on the photo to view it in higher definition.)

May God bless you all in this new year, helping you grow in faith and love.

Another Miracle

With all the strangeness in the world to distract us, it is easy to forget that God continues to bless our lives with one miracle after another. The most recent miracle in our family is our eighth grandchild, little Benedito (named after our current Holy Father, Pope Benedict XVI). He's all of three-months old but has already developed quite a unique personality of his own, so different those of his four older siblings. A truly happy baby, he loves to smile and laugh and be hugged and held. As long as he's the center of attention, he's perfectly content.

I've included a photo I took on Christmas Eve. A perfect blend of Brazilian, Irish and English heritage, Ben is quite the handsome boy.

God's peace...

More Photos of Our New Grandson

When little Benedito was born last Friday his sister and brothers were all very excited. And so, when we took them to the hospital to visit the little guy and his mom, they all wanted a turn holding the baby. The photos below tell the story...

Benedito and Pedro (9)

Benedito and Camilla (7)

Benedito and Carlos (6)

Benedito and Eddie (3)

Five beautiful gifts from God...

Grandson and Hurricane

Our new grandson has arrived and has been given the name, Benedito. He was born early this afternoon (12:27 p,m.) at Cape Cod Hospital in Hyannis, Massachusetts. Little Benedito weighed a healthy 8 lbs. 7 oz. and was 21 inches long. He and his mom are both healthy and happy. God has once again blessed our family with a beautiful gift.

We took his sister and three brothers to the hospital this afternoon so they could see their new brother and spend some time with him and their mom and dad. We all had a wonderful time and, of course, I took pictures (below).

Our big concern now, though, is the arrival hurricane Earl, although it looks as if the storm has both weakened and turned a bit seaward. This is good and we trust that by the time it arrives here on Cape Cod it will turn out no worse than the average nor'easter. I can hear the wind building up already and so must make a final tour of yard to ensure nothing loose is lying about.

Mom and son

Our daughter's entire family with newborn Benedito

Benedito, age 2 hours

Grandma (Diane) holding Benedito while Eddie looks on

Praised be God for all His goodness.


Blessings...

Crumbling and Decay

Driving from Florida to Massachusetts has become almost routine for us. I've lost count of the number of round trips we've made since retiring in 2003, but this is our second trip this year. The first night we stopped in Roanoke Rapids, NC, just a few miles south of the Virginia border, and stayed at a slightly seedy Best Western motel. The next night, after a day of horrible traffic jams and absolutely insane drivers, I finally could take no more and, as we neared New Haven, Connecticut, decided to stop at the first place we found. It turned out to  be an Econolodge in West Haven and it, too, will never be confused with a real hotel. It was probably the least expensive hotel in town, but still cost us $100. My doubts about the place began when we discovered our room was already occupied -- always an embarrassing situation. It was almost a joy to rejoin the I-95 craziness the next morning. The rest of the trip was uneventful and ended with a wonderful reunion with children and grandchildren.

For now there's nothing to do but enjoy their company as we wait for our elder daughter to let us know that grandchild #8 is ready to make his debut. At the moment I'm babysitting while wife and daughter are out somewhere spending money. So far it's been pretty relaxing, just sitting on the couch with four little ones as we watch old reruns of "I Love Lucy." The kids, especially nine-year-old Pedro, love this show. There's a certain innocence about "Lucy" and its unlikely plots, but it's still a very funny show and the kids and I laughed aloud through three episodes.


Watching "Lucy", one is compelled to compare it to the televised trash that passes for entertainment these days. We've come a long way since the 1950s. And such comparisons inevitably conjure up thoughts of societal decay. This, in turn, reminded me of a recent Spengler post on this First Things blog that places the proposed "ground-zero mosque" in an interesting historical context. It's well worth a read: Why Did Rome Fall?

But of all the things I've read about the controversy in lower Manhattan, the best by far is that written today by Joseph Bottom, the Editor of First Things: Holy War Over Ground Zero.

One final comment about this controversy. Most of the "Muslim on the street" interviews I've seen seem to indicate that many American Muslims are against the construction of the mosque. Like most Americans they, too, consider the plan insensitive. Perhaps more telling is the fact that Hamas, Hezbollah, and Al-queda have all indicated support for the project.

Been Busy, Grandchildren Visiting

To my few loyal readers...I have neither quit the blog nor fallen off the earth. For the past week my younger daughter, Siobhan, her husband, Jeffrey, and two of our grandchildren, Ezekiel and Phineas (Don't you just love those names?), have been visiting. They are a very demanding family and force me to spend time with the little guys doing all kinds of fun things. We've been to Homosassa Springs to see the manatees and other strange critters. We also drove to Tampa for two days of additional animal watching: one day at the Florida Aquarium and another at the Lowry Park Zoo. We've had a wonderful time, despite the steamy weather (high 90s); but the little guys are resilient, much more so than their grandparents. Don't know what we'll be doing this week, but I'm sure the women have made plans.

Here's a photo of the happy family as they boarded the boat in Homosassa for the ride to the state park:

Jeffrey returned to Massachusetts this morning, leaving his family behind. The poor boy, unlike his father-in-law, must still work to keep the wife and kids in new sneakers.


The only real excitement so far was the now infamous squirrel attack at Homosassa. While we sat at a picnic table to savor our fine, homemade peanut butter & jelly sandwiches, a squirrel apparently decided that Diane's lunch was simply too good to resist. He jumped on her shoulder, sprinted right across her face, and down her other arm. Fortunately, he left nothing behind other than a minor scratch and some mild hysteria. After this little stunt, he actually tried to do it again, but I managed to connect my shoe to his belly and send him airborne into the bushes. He wasn't hurt, but learned his lesson and did not return. At left is a photo of this overly aggressive rodent poised to attack...

I don't expect to post much on the blog until after July 1. Until then, God's peace and enjoy this life that God has given you.

Quiet and Lonely Down on the Farm

Our daughter, son-in-law, and the four grandchildren left yesterday morning for the drive back home to Massachusetts. The silence is deafening and I'm lonely. It's especially bad since my dear wife, sweet Diane, left shortly after the others to attend a three-day Council of Catholic Women conference in Orlando. So...I am alone and it's far too quiet around here.

We enjoyed the visit with all the little ones, as did they. We didn't do anything really special this time, just daily visits to the neighborhood pool and occasional rides in the golf cart. It's these simple pleasures that seem to give them the most joy. Oh, yes, we spent an afternoon at Uncle Donald's Farm, a local farm where the kids can interact with the animals, milk a goat, feed the cattle, and in general have a great time. As a city boy who never had the benefit of living on a farm, I always enjoy taking the little ones there. It also makes me thankful that my ancestors gave up on the farming business when they left Ireland and came to America.

Here are some photos...

Looking apprehensive...Is Papa really going to sell us?

Carlos milking a nanny goat

Eddie and Pedro feeding a little kid

Granddaughter Camilla, daughter Erin, and goat

Petting a bunny

A pot-bellied pig looking...well, rather piggish

It was indeed a fine day and even I managed to slip into a photo, taken by my son-in-law...

Waiting for the hayride to begin

Being is truly good. God bless all creatures, great and small...

Grandchildren

I just realized that in the few posts I made during our trip up north, I included photos of only five of our seven grandchildren. And so, in an effort to appease the two neglected grandsons, I present you with Ezekiel and Phineas (wonderful biblical names), who are quite obviously rabid New England Patriots fans. And how about all that hair?

...and, of course, I must include another photo of the new baby, granddaughter Veronica. I especially like her one-eye-open smile.

...and, finally, here's one more of the four siblings who live on Cape Cod: (L to R) Eduardo, Pedro, Carlos and Camilla.

Travels with Grandkids

Well, it's certainly been a busy two weeks, enjoying the visit of our elder daughter and four of our grandchildren. We still have a week to go, so I ask that you pray for our continued sanity. Actually, the little people have been absolutely wonderful. They range in age from little Eddie, who's pushing three, to Pedro, a mature eight-year-old, so it's not easy to find group activities that all will enjoy. This time, though, instead of the usual Disney and related mind-numbing entertainment, we decided to do something a little different. So far it's been a great success; so if you have little ones and find yourself in central Florida, here are some ideas that can make your stay especially memorable and enjoyable.

Our first excursion was to Tampa, about a 90-minute drive from our home. We booked a two-bedroom suite at Chase Suites, a very nice hotel right on the water and relatively convenient to most of the places we intended to visit. On our first day we took the little guys to the zoo...

Tampa's Lowry Park Zoo. This is a wonderful zoo that kids of all ages will enjoy. It was once again rated the best zoo in the USA by Parents Magazine -- very kid-oriented with lots of fun things to see and do. Click here and check out their website. The only disappointment, and it was minor, was the River Odyssey Eco-Tour on the Hillsborough River. It was a nice boat ride, and the crew were very pleasant, but it wasn't particularly interesting. I guess we've been spoiled by previous visits to Silver Springs and Mount Dora where the boat rides always churn up lots of alligators and other wild critters. We spent most the day at the zoo and then returned to the hotel for a little dip in the outdoor pool, followed by dinner at the local IHOP (always a treat for youngsters).

Grandson, Eddie, fascinated by the chimpanzees at the Lowry Park Zoo

A cheetah on the prowl at the Lowry Park Zoo

The next day we visited the aquarium and were again pleasantly surprised...

Jellyfish at the Florida Aquarium, Tampa

The Florida Aquarium. Located downtown near the shipping terminal, this is a terrific aquarium. Be sure to take in any of the planned demonstrations and other events scheduled for the day of your visit. You'll receive a schedule of events when you purchase your tickets. The kids loved the up close and personal encounters with the penguins, alligators, snakes and sharks. All in all, it was a wonderful day. Click here to visit the aquarium's website.

A seahorse at the Florida Aquarium, Tampa

Pedro & Camilla interact with a boa constrictor at the Florida Aquarium, Tampa

Yesterday we took off in a different direction and headed north to Gainesville and the Florida Museum of Natural History, located on the campus of the University of Florida. Normally, I might be a bit leery about taking a group of very young ones to a museum, but this one is different. First of all, it's very kid-friendly and admission to the museum itself is free. But the real plus is the Butterfly Rainforest, a closed rainforest-like environment populated by hundreds of butterflies from all over the world. There's an admission fee for this, but it's worth every cent. You follow a path through the exhibit at your own pace and simply marvel at these wonderful creatures who surround you every step of the way. Although you are not permitted to initiate any contact with the butterflies, if you sit down on one of the many benches and wait a few moments, one or more will inevitably land on you (especially if you wear a loud floral Hawaiian shirt). You can take all the photos or videos you like, and if you click here you can view a slide show of some of the photos I took during our brief stay.

A butterfly settles on grandson Pedro's foot

A colorful bird shares the Butterfly Rainforest

One of the many varieties of butterfly in the Rainforest

What a wonderful creation God has given us. Being is certainly very, very good. More on some of our other outings in my next post...

God's peace...