Sunday, Sunday

This is a late Sunday afternoon. The Babe and I went to the VFW Post to do a little office work ad have a meeting regarding the outreach our Post has in the community. We already work with Moving Veterans Forward, a local organization that works with homeless Veterans. They commit to help themselves move from homelessness to nice housing, with the help of MVFNE. It is an honor to personally volunteer with them. Ron Hernandez is a stellar human being, humble in his works, and friend to all the Veterans. They respect him, and it’s mutual.

Once we returned home, I thought I’d just whip through a blog. Guess again. My brain isn’t whipping anything today but me! It’s another very overcast, humid, cold day. The humid cold days are tough for anyone with arthritis. It’s a given. It’s nearly time for me to sit with the heating pad on my back. Yes, it is. Take a break, get a snack, be right back.

Photo by Julia Volk on

The Sunday’s of childhood always began with “Children’s Mass,” where the entire school sat with their classes, not their families. I always thought that was weird, but Mom attended Mass at 6 a.m when Dad just got home from work/Mass at St. Joseph’s Hospital Chapel. He attended on his way home, usually just him and all the nurses and doctor’s. Dad was a very devout Catholic. Mom converted when they got married. As kids, we attended, in high school, and when I married the first time, we did too. After divorcing in 1982, I just wavered in my church affiliation, but never my faith in God. That’s still very strong.

In some ways, I’m reeling from all we’ve seen in our nation the past year. Last week about did me in. I cannot tolerate such blatant disrespect, regardless of who it’s from. I may re-register to vote as an Independent. I was one my whole voting life until 2001. I will re-think my current affiliation.

Photo by Sam Lion on

We were fortunate the Babe had a COVID-19 Vaccine. The VA administered it on Saturday, and he is scheduled for the second shot in three weeks. He reports it was very well organized, and easy to deal with. I’m glad, it’s going to be easier for some of the more infirm veterans. They deserve a break.

Sorry, folks. The well is dry tonight. Tomorrow will be another day. More organized, less random thoughts. We, as a Nation, need to get our act together and unify. Party doesn’t matter. Do you want to survive as a Nation? That is what matters. Forget the rest of the problems. We need to not sweat the small stuff. Time to get it together.

Let’s be kind to one another. Don’t be rude on Social Media. None of us is greater than the other. Not really, when you get down to it. Young have always thought older folks to be decrepit in their thinking. It’s nothing new. Let’s behave like we know better, because we do. We are above what’s been going on. Stop pointing fingers, we’re all guilty of some bad behavior. Let’s be AMERICAN.

Thank you for reading today. I’ll see you again tomorrow, and we’ll talk about all the new, fun stuff we’ll be doing all week. Life’s a joy. Get ‘ya some! Be Safe.

Wednesday, July 15, 2020

As a child, I grew up with my brothers attending a Catholic school and Church. Back in the late 1950s, we made our First Holy Communion, at about the age of seven. Second grade. That’s pretty young, as I think back, and as I think about kids today. Just before the big day, we experienced the other Sacrament that goes hand in hand with it; our First Confession. Wow.

Confession is where you go to the priest, back then it was in the confessional, where you didn’t see the priest, and confess your sins and the number of times we committed the omission. At the time, the Catechism graphics that accompanied the sin was milk bottles. Just like we had our little morning milk break from little glass bottles. They were pictured with a few splotches on them, indicating venial sin. Those weren’t terrible, a white lie, talking back to your parents, talking smack about someone, those kind of minor offenses that marred our characters. A black milk bottle indicated a mortal sin.

I cannot imagine the horror Monsignor Aughney felt when a seven year old confessed a mortal sin. Mortal sins were the game changers, the show stoppers, the back the truck up, let me get absolution kind of sins. Adultery. Murder. Sinful Thoughts. Those were always such hot beds, the nuns mentioned adultery, but never explained it. Murder was easy, easily explained. Sinful thoughts might have been sexual in nature, I cannot see a seven year old sinning that way. At least, not one that has been raised in a household like we were raised.

Our folks were really good people, they worked hard, they sacrificed for us, they taught us about God. They did a good job. We all grew up ok, the usual bumps along the road. The old nuns would call kids out in the classroom sometimes, “Michael M., you need to go to confession!” It was always a boy, being chastised in class. Maybe a stockade would have been less embarrassing. I wonder if the nuns confessed when they beat the snot out of Michael M. for jacking around and talking during class. Any Sister Mary’s out there? Please comment below, just curious.

I no longer attend Mass or use confession as a way to cleanse my soul. I believe the term is “fallen away.” It’s ok, I know God loves me and Jesus saved me, and the Holy Spirit inspires me. I no longer think I need to be killed by the Communists in order to get to heaven. Martyrdom never appealed to me, but as a kid, we were taught about it early. In between offering up little inconveniences and collecting pennies and nickels for the Pagan Baby Fund.

That said, it doesn’t hurt me to “examine my conscience” once in awhile, and tell God I’m sorry for this or that. You can check yourself without having to leave the house. The Catholics still believe in the need for Confession and telling your sins to the priest. I give them straight to Jesus, who to me is the go-to guy for giving it to God. Or I can go direct. Either way, God forgives my indiscretions, whatever they may be. I still haven’t hit adultery or murder, so I’m relieved about that. I have no desire to do either, trust me.

As I got older, gossipping and assassination of character qualified as “murder of another’s character.” A stretch? Maybe, but it makes you think. Even now, being discourteous, being rude, cutting in line, screaming in a policeman’s face at a “rally,” these are all things we do that are not right or helpful to us or society in any way. Practicing discrimination is wrong. I don’t know what sin it is, I just know it’s wrong. Don’t do it. Say you’re sorry. Intolerance of anyone because of race, color, or creed isn’t just illegal in the United States, it’s a sin against humanity. We need to stop and ask forgiveness.

Disrespect for older people or anyone in authority falls under “Honoring they Father and Mother.” If you disrespect Mom and Dad, you will disrespect your elders and police officers. It’s all wrong. I still find myself thinking, “I respect my mother as my mother, so I’m not starting an argument with her over her negativity.” I choose instead to remove myself from the negativity. Problem solved, and I’ve been kindly quiet about it.

A long time ago, while the Babe and I attended Countryside Community Church, in Omaha, Reverend J. Keith Cook gave a sermon about the Ten Commandments. In my whole life, no one ever mentioned the Ten Commandments serve as the basis for all of our laws today. When you think about it, it’s true. Don’t kill. Don’t steal. Honor your parents. Don’t want what your neighbor wants. Honor God, keeping his Day Holy. As a society, we haven’t done that in decades!

I’m going to switch gears here and work on my book homework for awhile, before Gavin gets here. Pizza’s on the menu for lunch, I’m going to let him make them if he wants. This Grandma loves that kid, to the moon and back. Be kind. Be courteous. Be respectful. Wash your hands! Wear a mask! Help me out, can’t meet my grandson in Colorado until we’re safer from the Coronavirus. Thanks for reading today. Think about how we can all be better citizens and souls. I’ll see you back here tomorrow. Be careful out there.

Let’s Be Courteous! We All Need It!