It's hard to say "goodbye" to Summer.
But the days are getting shorter and the calendar says "September."
John Paul's new life in college is rolling along. I miss him.
The older girls are back to Chelsea Academy. Agnese is a junior this year and Lucia a sophomore. The "little kids" still have another week. They are helping Eileen to set things up for the opening of John XXIII's new campus. It's a beautiful place.
Eileen works with such dedication, and I know that what I can do is support her and try to be strong for her even when there seems to be no strength in me for anything.
Am I really powerless, or just lazy? Where is the line? Jesus, I don't know and so I will just leave it with You.
Labor Day weekend is here. By 8PM we are well into the dusk of the evening.
Life is strangely hard.
I have days of inconsolable sadness. I know it's pathological, but that doesn't mean there is no deeper connection. A solidarity with the world's sorrow runs through me.
The great world is in turmoil, and the more immediate world of those entrusted to me also suffers. I have an overly sensitive disposition, physically and mentally. Everything stings me or weighs on me with a strange amplification.
And I seem almost to want this sensitivity. I can't separate it from the peculiar intensity of my own nature. Most of it comes from a penchant for sentimentality and melodrama. But also somewhere there is an impetus of real sorrow for others, sorrow that opens up to the suffering of others near and far, that doesn't want anyone to be alone.
It scares me, this "impetus," and I try as hard as I can to run away from it into distraction, but I can't seem to escape it entirely.
But why so much? Why is this long darkness of sorrow upon the world?
Questions reach the point of exhaustion, and in the silence what remains is endurance and a heart that begs and waits and hopes....
