Catching Idle Butterflies

A very full day

Quite a day I had yesterday, so you might want to grab a cup of coffee, tea, or other beverage of choice before you read further. It might take a while.

So if your bottom end falls asleep because you sat too long reading this, you can't blame me. I warned you.

Even as I responded to the many comments for my Memorial Day article, I received even more. I bet I spent almost an hour sending thank-yous.

However, I received a few that felt like a bowling ball hurled at my chest. They made such an impact, I had to leave WDC for a while, emotionally incapable of responding to their comments.

They weren’t negative comments. Quite the contrary. They came from mothers who have sons in the military, and they expressed their gratitude for me writing this article. Some were children and grandchildren of men who served in WWI, WWII, Korea and Vietnam, and they told me stories of how much they miss them along with their thanks. One, larryp, even gave me an awardicon for it.

Even now, I’m feeling weepy as I remember their poignant and heart-filled words.

I showcased the article because I wanted people who didn’t know the purpose of Memorial Day to know it, and treat it accordingly. I never once thought I would receive gratitude from those who are more affected by war than most of us can ever imagine, don’t want to, and thanks be to God and to them, don’t have to.

How do I say thank you to them, and to you who left equally kind and heartfelt comments to my blog entry of the same article?

That’s part of why I had to walk away for a while. I was choked up with tears as well as with words.

*takes a deep breath to move ahead*

In lighter news, last night Dave and I went to one of my co-worker’s wedding.

We stepped into this bright sanctuary with a 20-25' tall upside-down V shaped ceiling topped off with skylights, white walls on the sides, an all-glass wall at the front, and mottled, white marbled floors. The pews surrounded the altar on both sides in an oval shape, so the white oak altar was more in the middle of the sanctuary than at the front. Quite unique for any church.

Only when I noticed the 6 foot by 8 foot crucifix hanging above the altar did I realize this was a Catholic church. I admit to groaning inwardly. I’ve been to Catholic weddings before. They are normally long, very, very long, with much, sitting, standing and kneeling. And me with no knee pads.

I not only expected a long ceremony, but upon seeing the grey-haired priest wearing a white - gown? (I don’t know the term) - I thought, “Oh, yea, an old fuddy-duddy, giving the bride and groom nothing but a slew of “thou-shalt-nots” for the next hour.”

During the priest’s . . . sermon, I guess you could call it . . . where he gave advice to the new bride and groom, he at one point walked over to the bride’s parents and asked, “If your daughter calls you up and asks you to buy her a new car because her old one broke down, what do you do?”

I didn’t hear the answer, but the priest waved his hand at them and said, “You hang up! You then call up the phone company and change your number to unlisted! If she finds out what it is, whenever she calls again, hang up! The point of her getting married is her way of saying good-bye. I’m not yours anymore, I belong to my husband.”

He then sauntered over to the groom’s parents and said, “If your son comes over and complains how his new wife doesn’t cook or clean like Mom does, what do you do?”

Again, I didn’t hear the response. Not that it mattered in this case either.

“You move!” the priest exclaimed. “Hopefully to a small town he’s never heard of far, far away! And you don’t leave a forwarding address! Your son is now married. He has to learn how to deal with the changes that come with it, even if it means she doesn’t cook or clean as good as Mom.”

I’m sure he said more, but I was laughing too hard to catch it.

Not being Catholic, I assumed all Catholic churches were dark, almost dreary, even if they are beautiful. I also assumed all Catholic priests had no sense of humor, and more about the rules and regulations of religion than in preaching with animation along with truth. Plus the mass lasted a mere half-an-hour, not three times that long like I expected. But if it had gone longer, as well as the Priest spoke, and with the joy that I’m sure exuded from every pore, I wouldn’t have noticed or cared.

This is what happens when I have pre-conceived notions about any religion or group of people. I find myself in situations that show me my false judgements, and I walk away both humbled and enlightened.

Third and last happening of the day.

Did we miss a biggy of a thunderstorm last night!

Well, mostly.

We drove home from the reception and at the edge of a massive thunderstorm. Lighting struck and thunder rumbled all around us, but only a few drops of rain fell. To the west, the direction home, only a few wispy clouds marred the sky. To the east, however, the sky was a dark blue-gray. I looked up at the thundercloud above and saw the tell-tale light-blue glow of hail.

I thanked God our house would not be hit with that!

On the radio a storm alert came on saying Bismarck was under a severe-thunderstorm warning until midnight, with a likelihood of hail. It didn’t include our town, however, so I still didn’t worry.

An hour later, I heard it. The smack, ping of hail on our roof. Oh, goody.

Dave and I glanced out the kitchen door, and I’m stunned to see not just pea-sized hail, but golf ball sized hail.

With both our cars sitting exposed in it, and we had just taken full-coverage insurance off of them.

Dave managed to pull his truck closer to the house, but by the time he moved my Jeep underneath our massive lilac bush, the hail stopped.

Isn’t that typical?

It lasted no more than 5-7 minutes, but it did do some damage, at least to our cars. The roof I’m not concerned about, though Dave will have the insurance company take a look next week to be sure. My Jeep faired better though it was more exposed to the storm. If I look really, really hard, I can see four tiny dents on my hood. Dave’s truck however, has many more, and we don’t have to look hard for those.

I teased him saying, “Ha, ha, my Jeep is better built than your truck! Neener, neener, neener!”

He wasn’t amused.

*snicker*