Definition of human holiness...

The Church, this world, and our family lost a giant this past Saturday.  Not a giant in stature, she was a rather petite woman.  Not a giant of education, although she attended college during a time when most women didn't.  Not a giant of wealth, though wealth is measured in far more than monetary means.  Rather we lost a giant of faith and holiness.

My Gramma Jeanne spent 91 years on this earth.   For the 32 years I knew her and, I'm sure for most of the almost 60 before that, she embodied holiness beyond anyone else I knew.  Her holiness was beyond the public tenants that a lot of self-proclaimed holy people practice.  She gave to the church but probably only my uncle who took over balancing her checkbook really knows how much she gave.  She prayed - a lot - without making it a public spectacle.  She learned about and grew in her faith and loved it deeply but recognized the humanity of The Church.  She practiced social justice as part of her daily living.

Living alone for the majority of her last 31 years after my grandpa passed in 1984, her holiness was quiet.  I knew she attended Mass most days, I assumed she gave to the offering, I heard passing stories of her service but until I lived with her over the course of a few years, I didn't fully understand how deep her faith ran.  She WAS holiness.

She was a walking example of how one should live.
She stocked up on pantry supplies so she could donate to the church food drives.
She unabashedly welcomed all family members and their significant others regardless of race or sexual inclination despite growing up in rural Montana during the early part of last century.
She cherished marriage - attending all weddings and giving the best advice (don't give up your bed for anyone and whoever asks for the divorce gets the kids).
She did not judge whether you were struggling to find yourself and needed a job or going through a identity crisis or in a dead-end marriage. But she did not stand for cruelty.
She drank beer, wine, and whiskey when she wanted but I never saw her overindulge.
She claimed she wasn't a baby person yet found her rocking my week old first born having grabbed him from his rocker because he looked sad all alone.
She "leaned in" far before that was a catch phrase running both gift shops at the two major hospitals until almost 80.
She traveled a lot because, as she told me many times, why not and how else would she learn about other people?

She was a wife, a mom, a sister, an aunt, a gramma, and a great-gramma.  She was our matriarch and a beautiful soul. She is now gone from this earthly life to be in the next. She will be missed.

Why? Our response...

What should our response be?  At this point, what can we do?  We can pray.   We can ponder.  We can discuss.  We can shake our heads with don't-get-its and failures-to-comprehend.

But, honestly, what more can we do?

It feels inevitable.  Eventually, we will probably have another one circling around the news and this one will fade into the background, part of the collage that's become a fixture in our American life.  If the statistics remain steady, we will probably have another one next week, after all there's been 45 so far this year.  That's over a shooting a week.  And we still have thirteen weeks left. 

Sadly, one of my first thoughts was "I'm thankful it wasn't another elementary school."  Then immediately after "Maybe this will be it.  Maybe someone's someone was killed and this will finally make a difference."  Then "Nope.  Probably not."  (sigh)

I'm not saying those thoughts are "right" or the best.  My initial response should be anger and grief, but how much more can I honestly hold the anger and the grief?

Shootings have become an unfortunate norm of life in these United States.  And no matter how much we say "don't give attention to the shooter, don't honor the "zero" but rather the 'heroes'", it doesn't make a difference.  The gunman's name is released along with stories of their family or friends and the usual shock and disbelief.

Because that's what the public expects.  Or at least what the media believes we want.

And usually there are too many victims to remember all their names.  It's easier to remember the one.  The guilty one.  The murderer.

How strange that last word is seldom used.  

Shooter.  Gunman.  Lone Wolf.

Those are more common in news stories and court cases.  Why?  Is a person who enters a building carrying weapons and ammunitions with all apparent intentions to kill unarmed individuals not a murderer?   We are not at war.  We are not in a continual state of revolution.  There is no obvious need to carry a gun into an elementary school or a university or a church.  The only reasons one would do so would be to kill others or out of fear that someone might enter to kill them.

So if the individuals take it upon themselves to determine who lives and who dies in the middle of a hallway filled with finger paints and cut out snowflakes, in the middle of a sanctuary as songs of praise are sung, in the middle of a playground where children are laughing, in the middle of a small college nestled into a quiet forest, why can't we call them murderers?  They aren't innocent.  This is not an "until proven guilty" situation.  They loaded guns, entered buildings, and killed whoever they felt needed to die.

Is it because Murderer is too raw?  Because of a sense of justice?

Children have been murdered in their safe havens of learning and play. 
Adults have been murdered in their sanctuaries of faith. 

When is enough enough?  Who's child, spouse, parent has to die in order for something - anything - to change?

For now, all I can do is pray for the repose of those innocently taken too early from this world.  

Eternal rest grant unto them O Lord

and let perpetual light shine upon them.

May they rest in peace. 

Part 4: The cumulation of many moments...

February 12th was a joyful day.  We finally welcomed our third bundle of joy into the world with no complications or too much drama.  Much like his journey so far, he took his time but it's been worth the wait.

I feel like this is a conclusion to a chapter.  And possibly a book.  I'm not sure where this blog will head after this.  I might delve into a more food/DIY realm or stay on the random path of daily life.  However, I hope that these four parts may find their way onto someone's screen when they are needing a shared experience.  Miscarriages are incredibly common and equally as common are pregnancy and parenting after a loss.  We need to bring this conversation into the forefront of women's health.  I truly believe we had Little Man 2 happy and healthy because of the extensive lab tests and blood work I went through and the discovery of mutant genes and lack of folic acid in my body which has been treated.  I also believe that those are the reasons I suffered so many miscarriages.

These are our bodies and we are in charge of them but we can't fully understand them without proper education and testing.  Hopefully insurance will continue to grow in coverage of the many areas of women's health.