…and chewing my fingernails to the quick.
(The former of those two is the better half.)
As I told my sons when I dropped them off at school this morning, we really don’t know the day or the hour when we will be called from this earthly life. On Sunday, we were at a Senior Recital. The young woman graduating is a neighbor of ours–we have known her since she was five–and she has become an amazing singer. Broadway-bound, for sure!
And yet, as we were gathered there in the smallish hall, listening to beautiful music from Sarah Brightman and Les Mis, the sky grew black and rain lashed the building. Somewhere in the distance a siren wailed, and my daughter Felicity, who is deathly afraid of storms & tornadoes, looked at me with fear in her eyes.
I held her hand. We prayed a Hail Mary. Eventually, that nasty weather passed.
We don’t know the day. We don’t know the hour.
That is the reality I am considering this morning, and while I can continue to devour the updates on Facebook, a better choice would be to go to Mass and pray for the people in Oklahoma. That is what I’ll do instead. I will clean my kitchen (because believe me, it needs it) and thank God for the food on my table and the children around it.
I don’t know the day. I don’t know the hour. What I do know is I have this here, this now. May I be present to it and to Him.