The Oasis

 The Oasis

Oasis. /ō-ā′sĭs/

noun

A fertile or green area in a desert or wasteland, made so by the presence of water. 

A situation or place preserved from surrounding unpleasantness; a refuge. 

"an oasis of serenity amid chaos."

I’ve been trying to write something since My mother in law passed away last week. For me, writing doesn’t come on command, instead it wells up inside of me and only then can I express that bubbling over feeling into words and thoughts.

These particular words come from deeper place inside and feel complicated and raw, not quite yet ready for prime time. 

My mother in law.

Sigh.

Angela. 

My mother in law, Angela. 

What do I say about a woman I’ve known for 33 years, who has helped to shape and mold me in the most important parts of my life and faith? How do I reflect on the role she played in my family and the lives of my husband and children? 

Entering into the LeGare family at 21 she stood majestically tall amidst the rest of the crew. Outspoken, happy, opinionated, and just-so-much-fun, are all descriptions that fit her well. My father-in-law Phil, supporting her always, but ever so quietly, hovering  in the background with his gentle manner and soft words. 

She was an absolute force to be reckoned with. 

When I was younger she was an  intimidating woman to live in the shadow of. She could cook and clean, play tennis and golf, run a house like nobody’s business, and her faith was unshakeable. I didn’t think I’d ever live up to her standards, I still don’t. In my mind she is the yard stick that I measure myself against in countless ways. 

I didn’t know at the time what she would come to mean to me or to my children.  Do we ever realize the most important things when they are happening? I didn’t see that  she would grow even more towering  in my life not only as a mother-in-law, but as a grandmother and eventually a friend. 

Fred and I were so young, so determined, so blissfully unaware of what we were taking on in raising  ten children. Angela saw and anticipated every peril we would face as a young new family and helped support us along the way. She did this despite  my opposition and insistence we could do it ourselves. 

I can’t count the times when I was terribly ill with morning sickness and she and Phil would call and then ask if they could come and take the kids for a few days. It was a godsend to me, and my boys, then eventually my girls, who wound up referring to those days as trips to Gramaland. These excursions were a quasi Disney World for my children, where they would visit the local parks and beaches, be stuffed with cream puffs, and home made bread and cookies, given new clothes and toys, and lavished with all of her time and attention, and finally put to bed with readings of Sam the Firefly and Dr Suess, only to do it all over again the next day. 

I needed those breaks. Even when I couldn’t admit it.  She stepped into my life and filled in for me, what I was lacking. She pushed me to carry on and would tell me over and over that I could do it. I didn’t believe her. But somehow, she was right and I did do it. 

I wanted Angela to like me and approve of me because I knew she was honest, which also meant that both her criticism and praise were refreshingly accurate, a rare trait to find in this world full of pretense.  We had plenty of disagreements too, (As I write these words, I can hear her voice saying “Ellen, don’t be impertinent”) but mostly they were about minor things as in the most important things (faith/family) we saw things  indistinguishably.

In my world she represented  pure strength,  which is so odd since she was also emotionally very fragile and tender, crying over a sweet song  or pretty flowers handed to her by one of my children; and worrying endlessly over this or that family matter. She cried easily, copiously,and freely. She  also  knew herself  and was nearly impossible to persuade to a different decision once she had made up her mind on a matter. 

She was fiercely determined. 

She had a fabulous sense of humor that has left the sound of her laughter imprinted on my heart. She loved to laugh and drank in the glory of nature in an enviable way. To go for a walk with Angela was to see nature in an absolute symphony of beauty. She knew the name of every flower, noticed each bird, and loved the smell of the rain on the earth.

And she loved being Catholic! On this point we were knit together. The Mass and rosary were a deep part of who she was. She  loved the Eucharist and found such solace in daily mass. Perhaps the singular accomplishment I can boast of  is that I introduced her to the Mercy Chaplet when Fred and I were newly married. She told me that initially she decided against it, but while visiting Myrtle Beach with Phil and worrying over her life as she walked on the beach,  she had prayed it and had a powerful experience of Gods love and ever afterwards she was very devoted. 

When Phil took sick the first time years back,  and wound up in rehab our relationship changed. She wasn’t handling it well. Diane called me and said “look Elle, I don’t know how else to say it, she needs you” and so Fred and I drove up. I pushed her that week or so, and forced her to drive him to appointments, and get his walker in and out of the car, and cook dinner again. She was so irritated at my insistence. The following weeks as he improved and she became his caregiver, she thanked me endlessly for reminding her of what she was made of. It was then that I knew she could do it even when she didn’t. I was right. And she took such good care of him. 

I speak here of only a few of my own remembrances, knowing these are woven into a tapestry of Angela’s life that includes  so many more children and grandchildren and great grandchildren with their own stories of how she breathed her life and love into their worlds and formed memories in them that will abide forever. She lived for us. She loved us. She has lavished her time on us until we have grown so very accustomed to our world being filled with her presence whenever we needed her. She prayed her rosary for us til her dying moments and left this world with it woven into her hands as tightly as it had been woven into her life. 

She was an oasis for all of us in our own personal deserts of life. A fertile loving  reprieve in the midst of  a harsh world. 

Next week we will travel back up to Hopewell. We will gather without her and feel the void in her spot in this earth. But she will be felt there too, even in her absence- in her now empty house- in her flower beds that will desperately need tending- in her children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren that will have no one to tuck them in, or read them a story, or fill them with cookies and simply delight over them and the splendid miracles each of them actually are.

And in those aching moments we will find her and treasure what she treasured most- each other. 

Thank you, Angela. I love you. 

Eternal rest grant unto her, O Lord,

and let Your perpetual light shine upon her.

May her soul and the souls of all the faithful departed-

rest in peace.

Lord, that I might see

 I've been undergoing an unusual cross of late. My eyes started giving me trouble a few months ago. Looking back, I see that its been longer still that the symptoms started to first appear. First there was an itchiness, then redness and burning, which eventually gave way to soreness, strain, blurriness, spots and floaters. About 3 weeks ago I finally made my way to an opthomalogist friend who diagnosed me with a few small problems creating a medium size problem for me. 

The medium sized problem was actually a large problem for my soul. It made my anxiety, which up until now has been well managed, really spiral out of control. So I have found myself climbing out of bed each morning and clawing my way forward through the day- a sensation I felt certain I had conquered long ago, I am now revisiting. With my usual gusto I decided I would meet the challenge and tackle both my eye issues and anxiety issue simultaneously and get back "in control" of them. 

It turns out that God has other lessons he desires I learn.

 Yesterday, the dam broke when I realized that the anxiety medication I had wanted to try would exaccerbate my eye trouble ( by drying them out further) and that my eye trouble would then exaccerbate my anxiety ( by making me fear a blind future). When I threw everything I had at my problems full force, I saw I had created a great big loop of troubles and nothing more. I had been absolutely useless. 

Almost imediately inside I felt like something in me broke. 

And in that brokenness, I felt myself surrender. 

I surrendered to God. I took my whole problem and stopped trying to fix it and instead just sat with it and accepted it for what it was. You'd think I would've wept or despaired, but no. I did plenty of that in the weeks and months leading up to it. Instead I found the very strangest of things inside of me- hope. 

This morning, I woke up hopeful. I have no answers, no new solutions, but a brand new self knowledge to guide me forward. I can see that God has lovingly given  me this cross because he trusts me with it. He knows I will bring good out of my cross as he has out of his. That good is meant for my salvation and it hurts, at times terribly, but is necessary. This cross is largely invisible to the world. My eyes look fine so no one, even if I tell them, can really understand how my world has changed. Picking up a book or my phone to read has been an agony some days. it feels so perfectly designed to be my cross that I know it is by intention. I suppose there is a strange comfort in that. God knows me so well that he knows exactly what a cross for me looks and feels like in order to be meritorious. 

I also know that talk is cheap. For a long time I thought I knew what "we walk by faith, not by sight" meant. Now, I know I actually walk by sight and that my faith is weak indeed. Only when my physical eyes offered me spots and distortions, pain and worry, could I connect to how spiritually blind I am too. How often have I stumbled spiritually because I live too much attached to the world and what happens tomorrow or next week or next year, when spiritually I have neglected my eternity. If I worried half as much over my spiritual vision, as I have over my physical vision I'd be a saint by now. 

Naturally, I begin to see the meaning in the myriad passages of the gospel that speak on vision now- almost daily the words vision and sight comes up in the readings. How have I missed it all this time? I took it for granted, is how. The richness of the stories is becoming a new found treasure. 

In my recollection I take the position of blind Bartimaeus. Sitting by the roadside begging "Jesus, son of David, have mercy on me". I thought what needed healing was my eyes, but God saw further. "What wilt that have me do unto thee?" is the question he poses to Bartimaeus and to me, so I ask along with him "Lord, that I might see". And because he is faithful, he has allowed me to see that my spiritual blindness is far greater than my troubled eyes. 

Immediately after recieveing his sight, we are told that Bartimaeus, followed Jesus, in the way. 

And so must I begin, in faith. 

Again. 

The path is forward

I haven't written in a long time. Life catches up with you. The good thing about keeping a blog is that it is always there, just a keystroke away. So here I am sitting quietly in my living room after midnight,the only quiet time I ever get, approaching our last week of school for the 2020 year in the midst of a pandemic.


And I am well.

I write that last sentence not as a boast,but  because it is hard for me to believe it is true. You see, for the last 10+ years, I have suffered on and off from an anxiety disorder. I get, at times, crippling panic attacks. I worry. I shut down. I shake. I cry. I think and think until I can't think anymore and my brain exhausts itself. Never one to pretend things that are happening to me aren't really true,  I have always been honest with my family and friends about my anxiety. I also spent a few years in counseling working my way through my own brain and how to manage the hiccups and tantrums it sometimes throws at me. Occasionally with medicine,though mostly without. In the last year or so, my anxiety had notably decreased. Not gone, but I really knew how to handle it now and that is genuinely something to be happy about.

Then the pandemic hit. And I waited for my whole life to fall apart. Surely, someone so prone to panic woulod succumb to the infernal treachery of this awful pandemic? I would most definitely suffer setbacks, right? But that didn't happen. Instead I found myself able to move through and cope and reason with my daily life in ways I had never dreamed  possible before.It appears that 10+ years of anxiety has innoculated me.

The more I spoke with family and friends, the more I realized that the whole world was having  a worldwide panic attack, only they didn't have the tools to deal with it, because it was new to all of them, but not to me and my anxious brain. Person afte person would call and ask how I was and I would tell them and ask in return, only to be met with existential fear and uncertainty. I was stunned- not because I didn't understand, but because I understood so deeply!

That angst I had felt for so long....the questions that linger and hang over your mind....the doubts about tomorrow....or next week....or next year....the scenarios that play on you about work, and children and health and faith....gosh they can be tormenting. Suddenly they were on everyones lips, but not my own.

For ten years I would muster the courage to say things out loud like ....

What if I get cancer and die?

What will I do if one of my kids die?

What will happen if my husband dies?

What will become of my kids if I die?

What if the church continues to collapse?

What if there is no more work?

What if someone in my family doesn't die but gets terribly hurt?

what if there is an economic collapse?

what if???

what if???

what if???

If you have suffered anxiety, you know how debilitating it can be. If you have not, you may be getting a taste of it right now and I'm sure you'll agree its brutal.

So here are some things I have learned that may be of help to you right now. They are all simple and you've heard them before, but maybe haven't yet actually tried them. The path through this pandemic is going to look for you and me, alot like the path out of anxiety. That path is forward.

First- take a deep breath. I mean right now. While you're reading take a deep breath and recognize that you are actually breathing. That means you're alive and when youre brain is telling you the world is going to end, and the media is helping it out, its good to remember those very basic things.

Next- ask yourself what you are most afraid of and get yourself to say it out loud to another human being. Holding your fears in the dark is not helpful. Shine some light on them. I used to worry that if I said them out loud they'd be more likely to come true, but that turns out to be a lie. So go ahead and name things, no matter how ridiculous it sounds.


Next, ask yourself what your job is for this day. Not tomorrow, not next week. When you are suffering anxiety, its is ridiculously important to stay in the moment as anxiety is a time stealer. It robs you of your present and future by borrowing and inserting troubles that don't belong there.

Once you figure out what your job is for this day- begin. You don't have to do all of it, but begin. Take small steps. Focus on the task at hand. Make a dinner. Do some laundry. Make the bed. Teach one lesson. Go for a walk. Keep moving forward. Anxiety can trap us if we allow it to. That usually happens when we are idle. Our minds wander and soon enough we are imagining worst case scenarios. Just do the next right thing.

Be courageous. I cannot begin to tell you how many times I had to actually face my fears in order to get through them. There is no other way. The monster under the bed needs looking at to be proved he is not there. Tell someone what you are afraid and figure out what dealing with it looks like.

Are you afraid of lost work?- okay- taht is real, maybe you've lost your job. Thats awful and you need to feel upset and sad and acknowledge that- but also think of a game plan for when you may be able to find somthing new, or change fields, or do something temporary until things look better. The point being not to let oneawful thing defeat you, or have a snowball effect on your whole life. Take a sgtep forward and confront that fear and you'lll make progress. If you stand up to one fear and start working on it, in time it may resolve or a new opportunities may open up. Begin with setting a plan.

Don't try to do it by yourself. One of my greatest strengths while I was dealing with anxiety was being able to acknowledge it to others, and even laugh about it. It takes the sting out of so much when you can crack a joke at your own expense as we all take ourselves too seriously.Talking to my family and friends has literally saved me countless times ( THANK YOU!) over the years.

Pray. Remember that God has a plan for your life. He is ordered and precise, and most importantly, He is on your team. He wants to see you succeed. It is not a mistake that He has allowed to you to be born in this place and time, it is His design. Trust that He knows what He is doing and that He can bring order our of the chaos of your life and of your brain.

You have this day. Be not afraid. Enter it with joy. The world around you needs you!

One more sleep

Only one more sleep til we see you!

We've had a beautiful few weeks in Italy catching glimpses of this country. All of us feel so satisfied by the visit. You can't know a whole culture just by visiting it, most of the time not even by living there, unless it's for a long while. But the glimpses we have seen reveal so much beauty and gentleness that our spirits are really lifted up.It rained here today, first time all trip. Since it was super hot when we woke, it was a blessing because it cooled the earth down. We were walking in Pordenone when the showers came and we were able to duck into a little alcove to stay dry. It bordered a parking garage, but you would've thought it was a secret garden instead. There were roses growing up and wisteria hanging down, and rain falling all around us. The sound of the rain on the brickwork streets was lighter then on the roads at home, I didn't realize that would matter to my ears but it did. It has felt like each day is a small feast for our souls as we take in new places and foods and people.

Honeysuckle is so sweet

It's growing on nearly every street

Today's a harder day on both Abbie and Pete as parting just isn't easy. Dad and I have done our best to keep them preoccupied, but we also remember how hard it was to be apart, and there's no getting away from it. Still, the engagement is hopeful and helpful.

Two young hearts

Of course dad and I don't want to leave Peter but, but, but, we get to come home to our favorite people tomorrow! What you haven't realized is that while we were away, when we saw fun things that reminded us of you, we actually got them! So tonight you can go to sleep wondering about what interesting little trinkets we will have for you to unwrap. I think we got something for everyone...I sure hope I didn't miss anyone of you...with so many kids maybe I forgot one?  (it makes me laugh to write that.) Do you know how many times people ask dad and  me that question for real? I wonder if they  think it could truly happen? As if the times we have had  here together is somehow not part of what we have as a whole family. I mean I know that Peter was the only real family member in Afghanistan last year, but weren't we all there too most days and nights? It seemed so to me, and I know how many days it did to you too .

And now tomorrow we get the chance to bring pieces of Italy back to you, not just in boxes and bags, but mainly in stories and pictures and reminders we have now to tell you about until it's your own turn to visit a special place and tell us all about it.

Sweet dream. See you tomorrow!
Love,
Mom and Dad

How do you say "snarky" in Italian?

Hi kiddos! We made our last trip to Venice today. We had planned to get up early and head to Trieste, but when we woke up, we all realized how wiped out we were and readjusted for Venice. The weather is now hot and summery, and honestly, we just love Venice. Plus, I hadn't seen St Lucy yet or actually visited St Marks tomb.

So we took it slow, ate along the way and just checked out whatever our hearts desired. St Lucy is incorrupt so we headed to that church first. The doors were locked, but also glass, so you can  set up a visit with prayer cards an offering etc right from the front which we did.

Then we took a water bus to St Marks and waited on a miraculously short line to visit the tomb of the apostle. The church is a masterpiece, but I was mostly in saint mode today so lots of candles and prayer time. We had a chance to venerate St Marks tomb which was such a blessing.

Afterwards we had an early dinner then visited Santa Maria Gloriosa friary and we're all mesmerized by the art work and statuary reliefs. If it sounds like we visited alot of churches, let me try to put it into perspective for you. Our guide told us there are 180 Catholic churches in Venice wit 60 of them currently operational (the others are either being restored or are museums). We saw about 10 since we arrived. Each one is a little gem of history and art. It's just a heavenly place.

Our train ride home was...interesting and the reason for the blog post title. Dad had been a little overheated today and was happy when he finally got onto the train home. In fact he put his feet up across from me cause he was so tired and just not feeling himself. A few minutes went by and a woman came walking down the aisle, she looked like she worked for the train company. She stopped and asked dad "excuse me, can I sit here?" To which dad immediately replied "of course" and sat up to make room. She followed up with "do you think I want to sit there if your feet have been on the seat?" Her tone was awful, her demeanor worse, and quite frankly-she hadn't anticipated Dad. (when I heard her starting I thought gosh it's time to buckle up, dad is not gonna do well and we're gonna get kicked off the train. You know and I know, that Dad doesn't take smac talk from anyone, unfortunately, this woman did not). Before she could take a breath he returned fire "you do know if you wanted me to put my feet down, you could have asked me instead of talking to me like you were going to teach me some schoolboy lesson?" She stammered on about the seat, Peter sat up wide eyed to listen closer, "it is not our custom" She tried to say before dad went at it again. "Okay, then you should have said so instead of being so rude" (She actually was really rude, and quite frankly the only person in Italy that has been in the last 14 days, not bad stats at all). She kept muttering things under her breath as if to regain some of the lost footing she had just suffered. Finally dad just took a deep breath, looked her dead in the eye and said "what's the Italian word for snarky?" She huffed and walked off. When she went to the next car laughter broke out all over. Peter and Abbie almost split their sides laughing. 3 stops later she was getting off the train herself and as she left she called out to dad "I am polite!" To which he called back "sure you are!" And Abbie added "and I'm six feet tall!"  causing a fresh round of laughter as the doors closed.