What we are is God’s gift to us. What we become is our gift to God. ~Eleanor Powell
I have returned from beneath the blankets on my bed. I’d like thank both Avitable, Nina and Karen for guest posting while I was recuperating from Chemo – Round 2.
Now that I have resurfaced and returned to normal life I’m preparing for a meeting at the Catholic Church with the Monsignor. True to my word, I called the church after I said we should Call the Pope. I explained the situation and was asked to come down to the church right away to get the process started.
On my way home from the church I stopped at an old friends house. I pass her house all of the time and for the past few years it’s bothered me that we haven’t been in touch. After Dude and I separated seven years ago the friendship between her and I completely fell apart and part of me felt as if she was judging me. I totally understood that.
What’s really killed me is that Teenie was named after two of my friends who both share the same name…this is the other friend. For the past eight years of Teenie’s life I felt as if she took no interest in her life and as if it didn’t matter to her that this child existed. I never once considered her side of the story.
Eight years ago I had asked my friend and her husband to be the godparents of Teenie and Cam.
Something inside of me made me put down the gauntlet, swallow my pride and go talk to my girlfriend. I explained to her what was going on, that I was sick and that my children needed to get baptized. She must have thought I was a crazed lunatic at first. I mean nothing says “crazy” better than a woman on your doorstep wearing a turban touting her sudden urge to make things right with God for her children.
CRAZY!
We sat outside on her porch for about two hours catching up on each other’s lives. It turns out that things haven’t been as great for her as I thought they have been. It turns out that it wasn’t that she was mad at me but that she was wrapped up in her own problems and perhaps that if I had swallowed my pride a few years ago I could have been there for her.
Dude and I asked her and her husband if they would consider being the godparents of our children, just as they accepted our request eight years ago. We always felt that their devotion to the church was something our children could look up to. It also didn’t feel right to ask anyone else because we chose them for a reason although I was prepared for them to say “no”.
Thankfully they have agreed. Now we just have to set the date. In the meantime I’ve been able to reconnect with a friend I’ve missed out on a lot of time with…time we can’t get back.
My youngest daughter has often told me that she feels as if she if a child of God. We all are however she says she feels as if she is supposed to serve God in some way. At eight years old I’m not sure how she knows that but she seems to be doing a good job so far.
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