Yes, it's Sunday, and I'm in town, so I'm off soon to join the other faithful.
I'm curious about what I will experience, my mood has been dark lately, my transgressions
stabbing at my conscience, my view of myself stark, with blemishes all too obvious.
Yesterday at the swimming pool I watched people, and wondered about how God can love them so...
we're so self-serving, so flawed, it seems so futile to imagine us as Christ-like, its so hard to believe we will ever get there.
(Like I said, a dark mood, on a full moon)
But then, last night, I took Ami to karaoke.
I was apprehensive, karaoke can make my heart tremble.
Ami loves it, she goes every week, and has three songs she gets up to sing.
At first, there was a bit of a conflict about the chairs, the organizing woman didn't
want Ami to sit near the front, so she kept putting the chairs (there are only two that Ami can
sit on) near the door.
Ami insisted on having her chair where she always has it, and eventually the woman gave in (lol, such is the power of my Ami) although she took the little table away where we had our drinks.
From many such experiences, I usually only have to tell Ami to ignore the idiots, and she will now, the organizer
did not know how lucky she was, Ami is not shy about making her feelings known..
Then, they began to get up and sing.
Ouch.
My heart cracked. There it was, all our frailty, our child-like ego, our willingness to be vulnerable, to find love,
to be together..
Ami takes her singing seriously. When I hear her sing at home, to her cats, she has quite a good voice,
but when she's trying, it's - not so good..
Compelling viewing though, some people walking past in the street stopped to look, and I could see the smile as they recognized her innocence.
She always sings the same songs, it was Kylie Minogue's 'Can't Get You Out of My Head'
and 'Hey Baby',
but a recent addition, due to the urging of the carer who usually takes Ami to karaoke, is
'Simply the Best' by Tina Turner.
I can't help it, when she's on stage, my maternal pride swells up and threatens to make me cry.
What really fascinates me, about watching people perform, is how much of their hidden selves comes
out.
There was a pot-bellied middle-aged man, balding, short, who on stage became quite a sultry performer
with a unique voice, his eyes blazed and he became attractive, back in bis chair, he reverted to his diminutive persona..I think if he was the performer all the time, he wouldn't be so appealing, its the mystery of the underneath sparking into the light of day, then subsiding again that is so attractive.
There was the mandatory hot young guy with a rock-star performance, very drunk but managing to keep it together, the shy types with surprising voices, the who-gives-a-fuck performances by solid women with nice voices, no hot young girl though :( on this night anyway.
There's been previous times that Ami has got me up, but I can't sing, and I only subject my family and close friends to my singing, so I'd told her very firmly before we went, that I would not be getting up.
Luckily, she respected that, and I could sit in peace with my pint of Guinness.
The next morning, when I told Ami I was going to church, to my surprise, she said she wanted to come, too.
So, off we went...
Lately, I have come to know something more about myself, that I have grown very sensitive to meanness in people, it is due to the battle to save Ami, and how I have seen how easily she could be let to die...a small oversight here, and another one there, people don't see her as worth saving, she is so morbidly obese.
I'd rather be in solitude than expose myself to their small cruelties.
Yet, as a Christian, I am asked not to judge, and all too often I have failed too, and treated her without respect. It is a weight, this guilt, a beast of burden, one I cannot lift off myself.
The Church is the body of Christ, but made up of sinners, so it was with some apprehension that I entered this new social experience...but to my relief, Ami was treated with such kindness it swelled up my heart,
it was like a safe harbour for us.
In returning to my Catholic faith, I am confronted by her laws.
I realize, with some mild panic, that Ami hasn't had her First Communion confirmation, and I try to explain the Eucharist to her in a way she can understand...it isn't easy, do I tell her she can't have it?
In the end, I trust in love, and err on the side of unconditionality, she is happy and soaking in the atmosphere, like balm to our so often scorned souls.
She receives her communion at her seat, I walk to the priest. Food for the soul, oh yes.
When I come back, Ami is holding a small African girl, cute as a button, trying to grab Ami's glasses off her face.
The mother is grateful to have another pair of hands, and I sink into peace in prayer to the presence so alive now inside me.
So much has woken in me, because of this..
I'm curious about what I will experience, my mood has been dark lately, my transgressions
stabbing at my conscience, my view of myself stark, with blemishes all too obvious.
Yesterday at the swimming pool I watched people, and wondered about how God can love them so...
we're so self-serving, so flawed, it seems so futile to imagine us as Christ-like, its so hard to believe we will ever get there.
(Like I said, a dark mood, on a full moon)
But then, last night, I took Ami to karaoke.
I was apprehensive, karaoke can make my heart tremble.
Ami loves it, she goes every week, and has three songs she gets up to sing.
At first, there was a bit of a conflict about the chairs, the organizing woman didn't
want Ami to sit near the front, so she kept putting the chairs (there are only two that Ami can
sit on) near the door.
Ami insisted on having her chair where she always has it, and eventually the woman gave in (lol, such is the power of my Ami) although she took the little table away where we had our drinks.
From many such experiences, I usually only have to tell Ami to ignore the idiots, and she will now, the organizer
did not know how lucky she was, Ami is not shy about making her feelings known..
Then, they began to get up and sing.
Ouch.
My heart cracked. There it was, all our frailty, our child-like ego, our willingness to be vulnerable, to find love,
to be together..
Ami takes her singing seriously. When I hear her sing at home, to her cats, she has quite a good voice,
but when she's trying, it's - not so good..
Compelling viewing though, some people walking past in the street stopped to look, and I could see the smile as they recognized her innocence.
She always sings the same songs, it was Kylie Minogue's 'Can't Get You Out of My Head'
and 'Hey Baby',
but a recent addition, due to the urging of the carer who usually takes Ami to karaoke, is
'Simply the Best' by Tina Turner.
I can't help it, when she's on stage, my maternal pride swells up and threatens to make me cry.
What really fascinates me, about watching people perform, is how much of their hidden selves comes
out.
There was a pot-bellied middle-aged man, balding, short, who on stage became quite a sultry performer
with a unique voice, his eyes blazed and he became attractive, back in bis chair, he reverted to his diminutive persona..I think if he was the performer all the time, he wouldn't be so appealing, its the mystery of the underneath sparking into the light of day, then subsiding again that is so attractive.
There was the mandatory hot young guy with a rock-star performance, very drunk but managing to keep it together, the shy types with surprising voices, the who-gives-a-fuck performances by solid women with nice voices, no hot young girl though :( on this night anyway.
There's been previous times that Ami has got me up, but I can't sing, and I only subject my family and close friends to my singing, so I'd told her very firmly before we went, that I would not be getting up.
Luckily, she respected that, and I could sit in peace with my pint of Guinness.
The next morning, when I told Ami I was going to church, to my surprise, she said she wanted to come, too.
So, off we went...
Lately, I have come to know something more about myself, that I have grown very sensitive to meanness in people, it is due to the battle to save Ami, and how I have seen how easily she could be let to die...a small oversight here, and another one there, people don't see her as worth saving, she is so morbidly obese.
I'd rather be in solitude than expose myself to their small cruelties.
Yet, as a Christian, I am asked not to judge, and all too often I have failed too, and treated her without respect. It is a weight, this guilt, a beast of burden, one I cannot lift off myself.
The Church is the body of Christ, but made up of sinners, so it was with some apprehension that I entered this new social experience...but to my relief, Ami was treated with such kindness it swelled up my heart,
it was like a safe harbour for us.
In returning to my Catholic faith, I am confronted by her laws.
I realize, with some mild panic, that Ami hasn't had her First Communion confirmation, and I try to explain the Eucharist to her in a way she can understand...it isn't easy, do I tell her she can't have it?
In the end, I trust in love, and err on the side of unconditionality, she is happy and soaking in the atmosphere, like balm to our so often scorned souls.
She receives her communion at her seat, I walk to the priest. Food for the soul, oh yes.
When I come back, Ami is holding a small African girl, cute as a button, trying to grab Ami's glasses off her face.
The mother is grateful to have another pair of hands, and I sink into peace in prayer to the presence so alive now inside me.
So much has woken in me, because of this..
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