As my dad used to say when he'd answer my weekly phone calls, "Happy Sunday." The day started well since I actually got enough sleep and had time to read some of my book of the moment, Italian Lessons, by Peter Pezzelli.
Then, my favorite priest and one of the funniest of all time, Fr. Small -- a young fella from Emory and St. Pius H.S.-- said Mass. When we got to the Lord's Prayer, the old gent next to me whipered a few things, none of which I understood and he was speaking English. I think he was asking me if it was all right to hold my hand but who knows? Then, he said "okay" after every statement of the prayer. Our Father -- okay! Who art in heaven -- okay! Hallowed be Thy name -- okay! You get the picture. At the sign of peace, after he hugged his sweet wife on the other side of him, he leaned over to me, kissed my cheek and said, "thank you, honey." His wife shook my hand and also said thank you. Okay, it doesn't take anything at all to make me tear up at church and that did me in.
Keri's home now, doing laundry, eating, discussing her take on the world and how it should be run, talking on the phone and just being plain old Keri which I thoroughly enjoy.
Okay, happy Sunday!
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