The (Unfinished) Confessions of a Lazy Catholic

My name is Michael, and I’m a lazy Catholic. Something tells me I’m not the only one. Taking Mass for granted, vaguely remembering to follow the rules during Lenten fasting, surely not taxing myself by abstaining from meat EVERY Friday. Praying EVERY day, WHO does THAT. And I don’t even know where my rosary is currently (can y’all ask Saint Anthony to help me with that). 

I’ve long said the Prodigal Son could’ve been written about me, I like leaving home to see what’s going on out there in the world, only to realize that I’m empty, unfulfilled, and hungry, so I go shuffling back to Dad, apologizing, begging to be let back in. He always lets me come home, He’s always happy I returned, but I’m always lazy and frustrated by the “rules”, so I wander off. 

And I take Mass for granted, and I skip it, and I miss out on the Eucharist. And the person I should be slouches downward, and reaches for baser things. I’m currently sitting here having not been to Mass in several weeks, unsure when I’ll be able to go thanks to the suspension of public Masses in light of the pandemic. I miss Jesus, I miss the Eucharist, I miss the simple beauty of Mass. 

I can’t be the only one in that boat either. I wager quite a few of us miss it. I’m hoping that this dark situation leads to a bit of an awakening, that we all find that we’ve missed Mass, missed Him. That we all return to our Father’s house, seeking His love and forgiveness. That we all seek to fill the holes we have with that which is missing, our need to remember we aren’t made for this world, but for the next. 

And as we remember the world we were made for, let us strive to be examples of the love of Jesus. My heart and soul ache these days, as I struggle to find my way to God, and I watch people behave selfishly, and not take care of their fellow pilgrims. 

Ramblings on a meeting of importance

So in September or October of 2016, in my forest of loss and grief, I found a Facebook group, that little did I know was the start of an amazing journey and a big step in my healing and finding my way out of that dark place. It was a support group for divorced people, as I introduced myself to the group, and asked if anyone was from Minnesota I got a few replies, one particular person caught my eye, but she didn't seem interested in doing more than saying hello and welcome to the group.

The next month or two were filled with the last crucial part of my journey, it was painful, it was fun, it hurt like Hell and it showed me, my heart was still capable of love and being open.

One young lady did converse with me more than just to say hello. We quickly grew quite close, she lived up north, which is Minnesota speak for St. Cloud, well lots of places but in my case, St. Cloud.

Our whirlwind romance, such as it was, lasted about 2 months. I began to feel unsure about the situation, so I suggested we slow down a little, and then she started messing around with someone else, and even went so far as to call me one night as she was heading to see this person, basically asking me to make her feel ok about her decision to go see him. How 'bout no.

So, needless to say I was heartbroken and truly hurt for the second time in six months (since my divorce finalized in July).

But, and this was another important, yet painful portion of the journey, I was able to talk to my ex wife about the situation. We had an honest, painful, frank discussion. That was about what the new girl was putting me through (emotional abuse), while also somewhat touching on what happened with us.

So I learned, that in essence my ex wife loved me because I loved her, loved me because I didn't make her feel less than, like so many in her life had, but she didn't love me for me. That hurt, a lot. But it was so helpful to hear, and I have been able to unpack it and see how even though it was painful, it was beneficial in me beginning to understand I was lovable and deserved love, and that these rejections had less to do with who I was than situations beyond myself.

Meanwhile, remember the other woman I mentioned who said hello, but not much else. We had shared a journey through a couple different groups, occasionally commenting on each other's posts or photos, but still remaining at a distance. She had some things she was learning too, so I continued to notice her, notice how close she was, and continued to wonder what it would be like to get to know her.

That group that initially drew me in, blew up in a bad way, that's a sordid tale for another time, but the Readers Digest version is that the founder/mod was a crazy, lying, sneak.

Because that group blew up, several others sprang up, similar to it, as certain former members, wanted a more stable group, that would always remain open, and drama free.

As friends and acquaintances added me in and out of these groups, I saw her again, she was added into one of the groups. We said hello, I was struck by the notion I should message her.

I shot my shot, my opening salvo, was purely to ascertain her status, I asked if she was still with the guy I last knew she was, in today's relationship parlance, talking to.

She was not...My heart soared with possibility. So we began conversing in earnest. And it was here that my life began to change. I laid myself bare, she saw all my scars, all my hurts, all the ways I'd been broken over the last couple years. We discussed meeting, in my deranged mind, since I had the time available, I said let's meet on the anniversary of The Darkest Day. She wanted to be sure I'd be ok with it. I reasoned that it gave me something to look forward to on that day, and if we went somewhere as a relationship, well it would add a happy memory, and if we failed I already hated that day anyway.

The morning of The Darkest Day last year was an interesting one, I had steeled myself to be sad and broken and hurt for the day. But when I woke up, yes I was sad, however I was also buoyed by good thoughts. Then I had an amazing moment. I could almost feel Jake telling me "Dad stop focusing so much energy on the day I died, I don't want to be remembered that way, remember all the days I lived."

So my thoughts while not exactly happy began to turn toward positive and happier themes. I had my boys that morning so we cuddled, we had fun and then I gave them back to their mom.

I hustled through cleaning up my apartment, getting ready for my date. We were keeping it simple, pizza and conversation.

When Julianne got to my apartment and texted me that she was here, I walked downstairs and stood waiting for her to get out of her car, anxious, unsure, scared of the future, but hopeful we would hit it off.

Then she said "Hi." and I was lost...Her voice was bubbly and sweet and I feel like I literally heard my soul say "That's the one." We hugged and headed inside.

She let me talk, let me ramble, let me tell her about my dead son, she asked questions, she told me about herself. I showed her my favorite videos of Jake, showed her pictures of my boys. She showed me her two wonderful kids. That night was everything I needed to believe in myself, in love, in possibility again.

I had decided even in the early weeks of us talking that I was just going to be alone, maybe a series of on again/off again romances, or short relationships.

It became clear by the end of that first night, we were sitting on something special. I was smitten, she was everything I had hoped she would be. Funny, smart, sweet, tough, but underneath that toughness was a woman that had been through her own Hell, but she still was able to be open, to be receptive to the idea of a relationship (even though on that first night all we were certain of was that we'd give it a chance).

Julianne was a voice calling out to me. I knew I was still lost in grief, and still struggling to make it through. She gave me a compass point. I blundered my way out of those woods by following her voice. I still occasionally find the trees, but I know if I wander too far, she'll be there calling me out of them.

That's important, and a wonderful thing to have in a relationship.

All of this meandering, long winded rambling to say, I am so thoroughly in love with her, so amazed by where this relationship has gone in the last year. I'm looking forward to seeing where we go next...

The Darkest Day

He was sick...yeah. It was worrisome, but

our boys were indestructible...but man, this one was kicking Jake's butt. We took him back and forth between his pediatrician, the ER, Mayo, seemed like everyone had a different take on how to treat it.

Jacob had RSV, he was struggling, seemingly in some kind of pain constantly, he was grinding his teeth, fussing, arching...

Between Traci, Cheryl, and I we took turns staying up with Jake, holding him seemed to be the only way he would soothe enough to sleep...poor kid was a mess, he was grinding his teeth so hard he made himself bleed...

After all the back and forth and with his condition just not getting any better, Traci loaded him up Monday night and took him down to Mayo. We thought he might have been having seizures on top of the RSV. After a night in the hospital, Traci and Jake came home Tuesday afternoon...

Early Wednesday morning, like 4, she woke me up asking me to take him to our ER here, if for nothing else than maybe they could admit and observe him...

Quickly after arriving the doctor starts talking about transferring him back down to Mayo. Yay, so I call Traci, she comes over, and we discuss... an intense feeling of unease is settling over me, looking back, I can ascribe to it a bit of psychic power...

But at the time, I was just worried about my son, worried about getting down to Rochester (the ice and sleet Traci drove home in the day before were still present). I told her to stay with Jake while the helicopter was getting situated...

Meanwhile Jacob is being poked, stuck, and prodded, they couldn't get a vein to start an IV, they were trying to medicate him to calm him.

I headed home loaded a backpack with clothes, the laptop, made sure Cheryl was going to be able to start getting Matt and Tommy ready for school, and I hit the road.

A quick stop at McDonalds and I headed out of town...

Still feeling dread, still unsure, scared, feeling alone, and praying....

I got to Dennison, couldn't get the heater and my sweatshirt to agree on a temperature...I basically just came to a rolling stop on the road... ripped my sweatshirt off, tossed it to the passenger seat. Didn't even bother with putting my seatbelt back on.

I started going again, got maybe 300 yards down the road from my rolling stop, hit a patch of ice, and knew I was fucked...I had time to think two things..."Please God, don't let me die. And snarkily, well I didn't need this shit today."

The Envoy slid, spun, and flopped to its side...I was in a ditch in front of a warehouse, pointing the way I had just came...I'm not sure if I briefly lost consciousness or not, pretty soon I heard two women talking to me asking if I thought I could get out...I took stock of my situation, I was alive, banged up, had hit the windshield and had glass in my head, I worked myself loose, handed the bags I had up out the passenger side door...climbed out.

I remember just saying over and over "I need to get to my son, they're taking him to Mayo, I need to get there."

The ladies called and told Traci and Cheryl what had happened... and an ambulance was on its way to take me to the hospital. I refused to let them take me back to Northfield...I couldn't/wouldn't let them take me anywhere but St. Mary's that way Traci would only have to worry about one hospital.

So they got clearance to take me to Mayo, and off we went...me strapped to a backboard, with a cervical collar, unable to move...

I was asking the paramedics about Jake, and if they could just find out if he had gotten there. They let me know that he was there, and that Traci's mom was with him...

Traci got the big boys off to school and Tommy's bus driver had told her they would drive her down and make sure she got there safe...finally I saw a beautiful, familiar face when she got there...

They checked me out all over, CT, X ray, the works, finally deciding I was just banged up, they let me go at around 430 that afternoon...Traci and I were finally able to go up and see our boy.

That's when an already tumultuous day became a waking hell...

We got to his room, Jake was ashen, and rough and just looked like he was already gone...

They were struggling still with no IV, so we got to see him for a minute before they asked us to step out so they could start a central line.

We stepped out to the waiting area...before long a nurse poked her head out the security door and my heart fell..."guys," she said, "he's coding, you need to get in here." We hustled into the room, and took up positions at his bed, but out of the way of the doctors, and nurses...

I put my hand on his foot (it was what I could reach), and my brain, fell immediately into prayer, I repeated the Hail Mary, over and over, the Saint Michael prayer..., and just begged God to save our son.

For more than half an hour, they did chest compressions, they did breathing, they did the paddles, finally Jake came back...

I asked for a priest, I had baptized Jake myself with holy water taken from the chapel when he was born, but I needed it to be official...we ended up having a chaplain that came and did the baptism...a priest came up later and blessed Jake, and also prayed for Collin who was battling RSV too.

That sense of foreboding and dread was heavier still...the doctors were talking about getting a central line in and putting Jake into an induced coma, but trying to get him to stabilize so they could...

He coded again, and since they still had no vein access they had to use the little bone drill things to get him medication...they used the paddles again, and did CPR.

This became a pattern...and every time Jacob coded, and they ran his blood, something else was shutting down. Traci and I didn't need anyone telling us that, we know enough medicine, we could track it.

I talked to the attending doc, "When are we just being selfish and keeping him alive, because the thought of the other is so awful?"

"Not yet, but we might end up there if we can't get him to stabilize."

So, cardiology came up, was able to get a scan of his heart, and said structurally it was fine, but it was just shutting down.

A quick round of discussion and we had decided that the next time it happened, it would be in God's hands, we wanted to hold Jake (as much as we could), and just let things go.

So a short time later, he coded again. And Traci and I surrounded his bed and told him we loved him and that he could let go if that was what he needed to do...

I will never forget the moment I knew he was gone. I physically felt myself break. I will never ever be able to explain that, and I don't even think I have ever admitted that.

I broke, in my soul, in my heart, my head...the world ceased to make sense (I'm still not sure if it does again, yet).

Holding him after, cold, lifeless, was in some way a bit of closure, but was also awful. I felt like the entire world was collapsing on me.

Coming home, at 3 in the morning, without a child in the car seat in the back, high as I could get on the prescription drugs they gave me...I was lost, it began the journey through the woods I'm still lost in...

Explaining to Matt and Tommy that morning that Jacob was gone was awful...I still haven't entirely forgiven myself for talking to Matt and while not ignoring Tommy, not doing a great job of including him, trying to help him understand.

Being lost and unable to help or be there for Traci may not have been the only thing that ended my marriage, but it was the death knell.