We had a funeral at church yesterday. Requiem Mass. Such a beautiful service. Got there early to practice with the choir, dressed in the garb, sang, helped get the reception/luncheon set-up while some went to the burial, ate, cleaned up. Tired afterward. And this after considering, just the night before, of just helping in the kitchen. Small church, all hands necessary.
Love it.
Now today at church, most folks there looked careworn and soft. Tears still at the surface, and when our priest gave the Benediction at the end, he began to cry, talking about something totally unrelated. He just needed an opening to let go. That meant a lot to me. Just him being human. That on top of me feeling the sudden burden in my heart of Boot Camp Boy. Whoosh---there he was to pray for. Not sure if he regularly goes to church at the base, but he's said he's not keen on it when he's gone---misses our church.
Love that as well.
