God loves you .
Before I go on to view other things . . .
My dearly Catholic friends,
I really, really need your prayers. I swear to God that I am very nearly ready to kill if I could get physically close to one certain human being . . .
More, though, I need you prayers for a worthy nine-year-old boy, my treasured grandson Erik, and his twelve-year-old sister, my prized sweetheart of a granddaughter Rachel. You see, they are children of a broken home due to the most inadvisable marriage I have ever known. My daughter married a man who has to be the most self-centeredly worthless human, from a human perspective, I have ever known. Without blaspheming this piece with his name – oh, okay, some of you will insist on praying for him, named Ken – I can tell you that he has my Italian so up I could easily, maybe even gladly, send him on to God and let God have him.
My grandson has been spending three and four afternoons a week, into evening, visiting me. It is a delight to have his youthful verve, his cheerful talk, his sharing of every minute and minute thing he does with me. I am, of course, blessed beyond telling. He has also been spending a night every other weekend with me.
This (Saturday) afternoon he came over. He frankly and coolly told me that he and his sister now know that their birth father ‘doesn’t love me’. You see, in a note to their Mom, my daughter, Heléna, explaining that he just couldn’t make his support payment this month, and which his sister purloined to have news of her father, as daughters will, Ken misspelled his own son Erik’s name. Both my grandchildren face the meaning of such an egregious error.
That Erik could so matter-of-factly give me that news means that he has considered love between him and his father a moot unlikelihood for some time. This news is simple confirmation. And, it gives me insight – these afternoons have been Erik’s way for some part of having me act the role of father to him – God bless his open heart!
You know I am weeping tears of great sorrow, and mixed with a rage that could destroy Ken and me together as surely as the sun will rise tomorrow. I am pleased that tomorrow is Divine Mercy Sunday, for thought of it cools such awful passions with my own need for Christ’s unfathomable mercy. And, justice can wait until I can witness Ken trying to glibly explain his actions to God.
Thanks for ‘listening’ – and, do pray for my dear daughter, Heléna, who as their Mom must deal with this painful revelation; and for my sweet Rachel; and, especially Erik, who deserves to be treated as the kind, open, loving child he is.
Think of your Dad forgetting your name . . .
Remember, I love you, too
Through Christ, with Christ, in Christ,
Pristinus Sapienter
(wljewell @catholicexchange.com or … yahoo.com)
