Frivolous Profundity

My mother died this morning (though my mom passed a few years back – I have an unusual family tree). I just received the call I knew was coming. She had been in the hospital for a number of weeks, her liver began failing a few days ago, and she hadn’t regained consciousness for nearly 5 days. I’m glad to say she didn’t seem to be in great pain or suffering, and had family by her side.

There’s no point in pretending we had much of a relationship, because sadly we didn’t. We had, maybe, twenty brief “hellos” in as many years; I don’t believe I have even a single photograph of her, and I deserved more from her than what I got.

She also deserved a lot more from me than I ever gave. Though she didn’t raise me, I was still her firstborn, her only son. Instead of honoring her as my mother, instead of reaching out more actively to build a bridge between us, I too chose the easy way out of just assuming she would come to me, that there would always be a “someday” when we would have a normal relationship. It was shameful and childish.

There are no more somedays now, and I wish I had known her better. She was, after all, the reason I exist, my link to the human chain, and her passing leaves a hole in me. Just a couple weeks before she went into the hospital for the last time, I started an email conversation with her that seemed like a great beginning to our first real conversation ever. I will always regret that we’ll never see where that would take us. But that was a conversation I should have begun decades ago, as a young man fresh out of high school, not as a middle-aged man seeking selfish truth and answers.

If you still have parents in your life – call them today, now. You may not have as many somedays left as you’d like.

I love you mother. I’m sure you’re more aware of that now in death than you ever were in life, and for that I’m truly sorry. I know that in your own way you did try to do right by me, even when that meant letting someone else raise me. Give mom a hug and a kiss from me.

Words cannot describe how funny I found this video, even after multiple viewings and uncounted slow-mos. This, my friends … this is what the internet was made for.

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8cfeTZNcA3g[/youtube]

At the risk of sounding shallow or overly critical – my church is ugly. I am fully aware that the physical architecture of the building has absolutely zero bearing on what takes place inside – but I have to admit, the number of small things I dislike about this church can be really distracting.

Let’s start with the exterior.

Is this a Catholic church, or Spacely Space Sprockets? Blech. Can’t stand it. The interior is no better.

Wow, where to begin. First and foremost, there is no tabernacle anywhere near the altar. I’m sure everyone has noticed that most Catholics genuflect (that is, get down on one knee) before entering the pew to sit down – we do this as a sign of adoration and respect for Christ’s body, present in the tabernacle. In this church, though, the tabernacle is not up at the front, it is in the rear, in its own little ‘chapel’ room. Again, yuck.

The overall style is very southwestern, which is to say – drab and dreary. It also annoys me to no end that the crucifix isn’t even centered behind the altar, it’s stuck off to one side (though I admit – that may be more of an OCD thing :P). And speaking of the crucifix – yep, you guessed it, my absolutely least favorite style. I find it difficult to call to mind the sufferings of our Lord when it looks like He’s flying off to join the rest of the Superfriends (here’s a closer up shot of the style).

I will say this though – I’ve never, ever encountered more comfortable kneelers than the ones at this church! I’m not an old man just yet, but my knees are in pretty rough shape, and I find it extremely difficult (usually impossible in fact) to remain kneeling as long as the 70- and 80-year olds around me. This place has like Tempurpedic kneelers or something, though, they’re really great.

So why am I so grouchy about all this? Well, here’s a picture of the first church I ever attended as an adult.

This is the interior of my second church (as it happens, about 2-3 miles from the first).

To me, those look like churches, and more importantly – they feel like churches. Majestic, almost gothic.

*sigh* I really miss New England.

As happens so often, it’s been quite a while since last I posted, leaving TheMook.Net to languish in the ether. In my time away, though, I’ve enjoyed both a month-long vacation to Los Angeles, and a wonderfully refreshing return to my old New England stomping grounds. Much happened on both trips, all sorts of juicy realizations, foolish musings, and good old-fashioned fun; hopefully some of those thoughts will make their way here to the blog in the coming weeks and months.

One thing I will mention, that struck me when I was back in Massachusetts, is that – I adore the ocean. Apparently sea water runs through these veins of mine, because nothing touches me quite like seeing the ocean. For 33 years of my life I could smell the sea air every single day just walking out my front door, always had the ocean just a few miles away. I miss it.

I used to walk from my house to this lighthouse a lot when I was a younger man. Countless hours were spent there, late at night, thinking the oh-so-important thoughts of a high school teen. It always feels like home to me.