Belated Thanksgiving thoughts. . .

My thoughts and prayers go out to everyone this Thanksgiving weekend. I would like to just make a few quick comments about what I am thankful for this year.

First of all, I am thankful for my husband, who is not only a spouse and lover, but my very best friend.

I am thankful for my extended family. For my mom, dad and brothers, Brian and Matthew. I pray for you daily. For my grandma who is and always will be, my best friend.

To the wonderful company I am a part of: Saint Benedict Press. I am SOO blessed to have been given the opportunity to have this job. I love working with all of these wonderful people and I LOVE having holidays off so I can visit with my family! (Thank you, Frances, for recommending me and Conor, for hiring me.)

To our Lord above and His Holy Mother Church, for loving each of us frail beings. We would all be lost without You.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! I'll leave you with these words from my fellow blogger, The Crescat:

http://thecrescat.blogspot.com/

Dear Turkeys; 

I am sorry God made you inferior and flightless. Therefore it is your plight to suffer the fate of being devoured by millions of Americans tomorrow. I apologize in advance for the ravenous way in which myself, my family, and the citizens of this nation will masticate your tender juicy golden browned carcass. 

Love, 

Carnivore Kat

The Blind Side: a story of compassion, family and love

For most of his life, Michael Oher couldn't have thought of himself as much of anything. With a mother high on drugs or drunk out of her mind so often that she could not even remember how many children she had given birth to over the years - nevermind who the fathers were of these various children - Michael's life was nothing much at all.

When he was still young, he and his brother were taken from his mother, split up and put into foster care. He moved from one foster home to another . . . running away many times to try and find his mother again. He often slept in a chair in the laundromat when he didn't have anywhere to go.

Okay, wait - this story is getting to sound pretty depressing at this point, don't you think?

No, you don't. At least, if you know Michael's story at all, or have at least seen a preview for The Blind Side, you know it is not depressing in the end.

You see, Michael doesn't sound like much from this perspective, with just words. But Michael LOOKED like something quite different. Especially if you put him in a uniform and stuck him on a football field. At a height of 6' 3" and just over 300 lbs, Michael is one of the best you'll ever see.

But even that is not what makes Michael different. Because the way Michael's life started out coupled with his athletic ability was not what made him a member of professional football. It was one woman, and one family, who opened their home to him and gave him something to believe in: himself.

The film, The Blind Side, which arrived in theaters this month is a beautiful journey into Michael Oher's life. Quite frankly, I have no idea if the details I gave above are completely accurate to the true story, but they are how the movie portrayed it. Whether it is the truth or not is irrelevant because this movie should stand as an example for us all.

Sean and Leigh Anne Tuohy took Michael into their home during his junior year of high school. However, the true charity in this decision was taking this homeless boy into their hearts. He became part of their family and, more than that, they grew closer as a family. Michael gained a brother and a sister and the family of four became five. Michael continually showed them what family life was about, though he'd never had a good home life before.

On thanksgiving day, after serving up the food, the family hops quickly back to the couch to continue watching football. When Leigh Anne can't find Michael, she discovers him sitting politely at the dining room table. This prompts her to turn off the TV and corral the rest of the family to the dining room to sit down for a proper "family-time" meal.

The entire story was wonderfully acted as well. I've always thought of Sandra Bullock as a mediocre actor (though she is my husband's favorite movie actress) but she did a phenomenal job as Leigh Anne. I found one reviewer who said:

I sure wish Sandra Bullock would get out of the business of making crappy rom-coms and make more movies like The Blind Side ..

I couldn't agree more.

Leigh Anne was a woman with money, a loyal husband and two beautiful children, she had no good reason to pull Michael out of the rain and give him a place to sleep, except that she cared deeply for him. All the same, she had a hard time showing him how much he meant to her. When she drops him off at college at the end of the movie, she gives him a quick squeeze and then hurries away, leaving the rest of the family to say their goodbyes. Michael decides this isn't enough and goes to the car door, opens it, and finds her trying to turn her head away to hide the fact that she is crying.

The dynamic of this women is beautiful because she a stunning example to all women and of so many women. We want to be beautiful, successful women with good families. We want to reach out to those in need. We want to feel a deep sense of belonging, of love, of LIFE. But how many times do we try to push away our tears of joy . . . ? How often do we shy away from revealing to others how much we care? Leigh Anne gave Michael everything. Michael knew she cared for him. But she still couldn't reveal to him how much Michael had touched her heart.

I would like to add one negative aspect about this movie. This is truly the only thing I wasn't fond of and should not stop you from going to see it. One review I read about the movie was that it was a conservative, Christian story but still seen through the eyes of a liberal Hollywood. This statement was never more evident than in how Leigh Anne and Sean's marriage was portrayed. Whether it was accurate or not, I do not know, but I was disappointed by how controlling Leigh Anne was in their marriage. They took a light tone with this concept, Sean was making jokes constantly about how he really had no say in anything and that she did whatever she wanted whether he liked it or not. (This is not to imply that Sean didn't want to help Michael - he did.) But I felt that this was yet another example of Hollywood undermining the marital state and the husband's role as the leader of the family. It just left a slightly bitter taste in my mouth.

The final verdict: this is a MUST SEE. If nothing else, it will remind you how precious your family should be to you.

I hope it also inspires more lower class young men and women to remember that they have abilities to do things that perhaps their society thinks they could never do. Michael was lucky because the Tuohy's reached out to him. But that doesn't mean other young men and women can't find similar opportunities in different ways. Reach for your dreams . . . they aren't far away, but you have to go after them.

NOTE: This movie contains no foul language, no sex and very little violence. There is one brief fight scene but it is pushing and punching only, no blood. There are a few guns in the film but they are portrayed in appropriate light as being abused (as in the case of a young man threatening someone) or for protection (Leigh Anne proudly admits that she is always "packing"). There are a few references to extra-marital sex but they are perceived in a negative light. Oh, and there is one scene at the very beginning that is a little gross as you watch a football player's leg snap.

A matter of time...

Just two days ago my husband and I celebrated our second anniversary. As the date approached, we commented to one another how strange it seemed that it had already been two years. On the other hand, we also found it difficult to remember what it was like before we were married because we've become so comfortable with it and it almost feels like things have simply 'always been' that way.

I can remember with perfect clarity waking up the morning of our wedding. My maid of honor, Liz, had stay the night with me but I had woken up before her - and my tummy was not happy with me. I hadn't expected my nerves to get to me like that - but they did! A bathroom trip later, I was fine and I slipped on some jeans and a sweater and drove to St. Gabriel's Church, where perpetual adoration was available. I prayed a Rosary while contemplating the day before me - and knowing that I would arrive back there within a few short hours with my new husband.

I remember being told by one of my bridesmaids, Laura, to take the time to enjoy the day because it would fly by. This was the best advice I could have received. I was relaxed and enjoyed every moment. . . get my hair done. . . drinking Starbucks that (I think I recall) Kristen had picked up for us. . . hanging out at the hotel. . . doing my make-up. . . lunch being late (about the only time I got slightly stressed. . .)

I remember arriving at the church. . . having confession with Fr. David. . . I remember him telling me that I looked beautiful and he was amazed by my calm and, he laughed, that Tim was a basket-case (which I found quite amusing).

The mass was amazing. . . our vows. . . our rings. . . Fr. David singing the "Agnus Dei," which brought back memories of daily mass at Villanova. . . the shower of bubbles afterwards. . . the laughter.

The reception. . . glowed. There were no words to express how beautiful it was. . . and I felt like a princess in the midst of it all, on the arm of my prince.

I remember so many details with clarity and I keep the close to my heart. I remember driving away in Tim's car at the end, watching our guests disappear behind us and then turning to each other and saying, "Wow. . . it's over!" Though it wasn't. . . another Rosary at St. Gabe's and then a flight to our beautiful hotel (the Charlotte Westin, which is still, in my opinion, the most beautiful building in the city).

We'll be returning to Charlottesville this weekend, where we spent our honeymoon. I look forward to seeing those familiar places again.

How amazing that a single day two years ago can seem like a lifetime ago and yet a moment ago.

I cannot recall what it was like when I woke up and Tim wasn't sleeping beside me. I cannot recall my life when my espresso wasn't prepped for me each morning. . . when I had to make my own lunch. . . when I had to remember on my own to take my vitamins. . . when I had to cook my own dinner.

I imagine that the same thing will be true once we have a child. I won't be able to recall what it was like to sleep in until 8:30 on a Saturday. . . I won't remember what it was like when I could eat a meal with both hands. . . I won't remember what a day was like when I didn't hold my children.

I look forward to not missing this time now once I am in that time then. For now, I will enjoy each moment as those days approach. I pray that they approach in God's rapid time. :-)

American Papist's Papal Photo of the Day...

No one dared challenge the pope to liturgical-musical chairs.

[Photo: AP Photo]

See original post here:
http://www.americanpapist.com/blog.html

Support (only) a PRO-LIFE healthcare bill!

Just wanted to encourage friends and family to use the link on the USCCB website to your Senator's & Representatives in D.C.!

While there are a lot of different issues to consider with the Healthcare reform going on in Washington right now, we must remember that above ALL else, innocent human life MUST be protected. Please encourage your representatives to support & vote for bills that explicitly deny abortion access within any part of the healthcare plans created.

I just did. It took me about a minute and a half. Please spare a few minutes in your day to protect our country's unborn.

Memories and thoughts...

When I was a teenager, my grandmother used to tell me that throughout my youth, I always had a tendency to bring up the subject of my father around my birthday (mid-October, for those who don't know). I had never noticed this as a child but I suppose it makes sense . . . although, I tend to think that my birthday wasn't the occasion that brought these thoughts to mind so much as the upcoming holidays.

You see, I have never spent a single holiday with my father. My biological father, I should say. My adopted father, who I have known for about 23 years now, has been present for birthdays and holidays most of my life. So please don't misunderstand these comments to mean I don't appreciate all that he has done (and still is doing) in my life. I love him and I respect him dearly.

But my biological father has almost never been present in my life. Almost. He was there on my birth day (or perhaps the day after?) but only because my grandmother brought him to the hospital to see me. Then through the first two years of my life he was vaguely involved. By that I mean, he arranged to see meet up with my mother several times but never (or nearly never) showed up. My mother tells me he didn't care.

I wonder if anyone in the world can understand how impossible it is to believe your father doesn't care about you. It's not about just wishing he would so you could know you were important to him . . . it's about constantly hoping that he wasn't the terrible person everyone tells you he was. It's about being scared that maybe he really was just an evil man who cared for nothing in the world but himself. It's about the deepest desire of your heart to hope he turned to the Lord during his final moments and begged for mercy. It's about clutching your hands together in prayer and praying mightily for his soul all the time wondering if it matters at all because the flames of Hell may have already engulfed him.

You see, when I was just short of three years old, my father jumped from a five story building and ended his life.

No one knows what happened to him. I'm uncertain as to whether I ever will really know. The police report claims it was suicide. My mother has tried to claim he was likely involved in a drug gang and was murdered (she has no evidence, mind you).

I think I've mentioned before on my blog that my favorite virtue is Hope. I'm not sure how anyone could understand how important this little virtue is for me because honestly without it, I would have given up long ago.

Morgan Freeman's character, Red, in The Shawshank Redemption, tells Andy once, "Hope is a dangerous thing. Hope can drive a man insane." But Andy later proves to him that "hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies."


Andy is right. I don't know where my father is . . . but I hope every day that I will see him again in Heaven. And I pray for his soul's release from Purgatory into that Eternal Bliss. 


I hope . . .