Ok, bloggers, I'm going to get serious here for a minute, please bear with me. (When inspiration strikes me, it would be rude of me not to share with you, my loyal fans.)
Last week, my mom's cousin passed away. It was sudden and unexpected. This particular woman happened to also be the pediatrician for all of the children in my family. She was a hardcore doctor. (She yelled at my mom when I was very small and my mom took me in for a check-up only to find out I had walking pneumonia...who would have thunk it?) Yet, I can't imagine what our lives would have been like had we gone to another pediatrician. My nephew was also a patient of hers, and the few times I went in with Sissy* for his medical needs, the office still looked and smelled the same. It is true that some things never change.
Anyway, the funeral was yesterday and as I sat in the church next to Bunner* going through mass, I remembered that when I was a small child I used to think that after the 1st and 2nd readings the response was, "Thanks, Speedy God." (Perhaps only the Catholics will get that.) It made me smile a little and I leaned over to Bunner and told him.
On our way to the burial, I told the rest of the family that story and they all laughed.
Let me back up a minute, the eulogy was delivered by the niece of the deceased and she did an amazing job. I hope that some day someone will say such nice things about me. But, in part of her letter she asked, "why did it have to happen so suddenly." Later on in the day my mom mentioned that there are Italian women all over the world praying the rosary that when it is their time to go, it happens suddenly. (I was a little bothered by that.)
Tonight I was thinking about that again (I honestly have no idea why), and it occurred to me that maybe I wasn't so far off the mark, thanking a speedy God. Perhaps Dr. D thanked him too when she got to the pearly gates.