The moment I lit the tree, her whole demeanor changed. “Why, that makes a world of difference!” she exclaimed, her voice clear and strong, delighted for one bright moment before she disappeared into memory again.
Author Archives: realtheresaweiler
The Brood: Silent Night, Restless Night
My conscious mind never stops running scenarios, trying to use this relatively peaceful time to somehow get ahead of any incoming disaster. I organize and re-organize the house. I make plans for how to earn more, to save more money. When I can’t stay on my feet a moment longer, I restlessly read the news, trying to identify where the next threat is coming from. Even my worries about sleep are part of this…I worry that when the shit goes down again (and how could it not?), I won’t have enough energy, enough focus, enough health to take care of the people I love.
The Brood: On Careers, Currency, and Catholic Guilt
In terms of career goals, in the words of Lloyd Dobler (imaginary boyfriend of all sensitive children born between 1976 and 1984), “I don’t want to sell anything, buy anything, or process anything as a career. I don’t want to sell anything bought or processed, or buy anything sold or processed, or process anything sold, bought, or processed, or repair anything sold, bought, or processed. You know, as a career, I don’t want to do that.”
The Brood: Ramona, Forever
“With red eyes, a swollen face, and a streaming nose, Ramona sat up and glared at her mother. “Love me!” Her voice was fierce with hurt. Shocked at her own words, she buried her face in the pillow. She had no tears left.”
I loved Ramona, but I lacked her courage. To be undone, but to still have the strength to demand love? Couldn’t be me.
The Brood: On Self-Help, Dreams, and Crying at the Gynocologist
I crush my latte cup in one hand. This is stupid. I don’t know what my dreams are. How does a person know what their dreams are after forty? Is having dreams even appropriate once you start using night cream and getting yearly mammograms?
The Brood: The Seen, the Unseen, and the Flutters in Between
It is, dare I say, a perfect autumnal read, as it is warm-hearted but rife with melancholy. It pairs brilliantly with cookies a cup of tea or mulled wine. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll figure out what we mean by “Catholic Spiritual Autobiography.”
The Brood: I Feel the Earth Move
A truly free spirit could handle a little bit of earth moving or sky tumbling. She might even enjoy the ride. She definitely wouldn’t blame herself for not somehow managing to hold the earth and sky in place by sheer strength of will.
The Brood: How to Be a Bad Catholic
Bad Catholics don’t pray the rosary, but have at least five stashed around their house (and one in their car). Bad Catholics have no idea when the Holy Days of Observation are. Bad Catholics will receive the Eucharist at your wedding or funeral, even if they already broke their fast by toasting you in the parking lot
The Brood: Reasons to Marvel
“Look C!,” I exclaimed, in that desperately upbeat tone we parents use when stuck somewhere boring with our children, “It’s um…the Incredible Hulk, and…uh..Iron Man, right? The red one? And that’s….well, that’s Scarlett Johansson…?”
The Brood: Root Chakras and Wildflowers
Last week my therapist hinted that I might be having problems with my root chakra. Like, it might be blocked. Or, if not blocked, congested. In need of a spiritual neti pot or some such.