Monday in Holy Week

Last night I hardly slept at all. It was a long stressful day so not sleeping seemed counter intuitive, but that's what happened.

At some point between Saturday night and Sunday morning, my oldest aunt, age 90, passed into the nearer presence of God. It was not unexpected, but it is the first of my mother's siblings to pass away. Yesterday was partially taken up by getting her flight arranged and packed up to go.

Then I took a hike with a friend, although I thought it was going to be fairly easy, we went further than my hip would tolerate and it was pretty much uphill all the way back. I was not happy with him because I had told him before the trouble that walking too far has for me. But I realized something, unless you have an injury that can be seen on the outside, then no one believes you have it! Oh well. What I know and what they think have almost always been two different things.

All the above whining is preface to the fact that I woke up every hour on the hour, starting the first hour after I went to bed. At 3am I gave up and got out of bed. What else was there to do but say Vigils? My whole being is on pins and needles, but I said Vigils anyway, and will go to mass at the monastery around 6am. Even though I'm frazzled, I'm not letting it stop me from keeping my religious observances.

The funny thing is even though my mind is wandering, and concentration is near to zero, I'm comforted by the routine of the prayers. It is as if everything can go wrong, but the prayers are always there. It's gravity in an ever changing world.