My nan Noreen, the dearest little old English woman you could meet, has been absent from the Catholic faith for 50 years. Her husband of 60 years is having a terrible time… the hospital said her use of reason has declined since her stroke on Feb. 3… she didn’t recognise her husband today… there is “no hope” for her (earthly body), say the doctors. They’re making her as “comfortable as possible”… so her last day approaches.
Let us help her, by our prayers, to find rest in Christ…
Be merciful, O Christ… Lord Jesus Christ, son of the living God, impute not her sins to her, but to us… let us bear them if we have any strength to bear them… give us the penance Lord… have mercy on your handmaid, your daughter, your love, your dove…
George Herbert… 1633…
Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright,
The bridal of the earth and sky,
The dew shall weep thy fall to-night;
For thou must die.
Sweet rose, whose hue angry and brave,
Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye,
Thy root is ever in its grave,
And thou must die.
Sweet spring, full of sweet days and roses,
A box where sweets compacted lie,
My music shows ye have your closes,
And all must die.
Only a sweet and virtuous soul,
Like season’d timber, never gives;
But though the whole world turn to coal,
Then chiefly lives.