The Erasure of Mary the Tower

I am Mary. As a child I hated the name. In our Catholic circles, it was faster to point to the girls not named Mary, and in non-Catholic spaces I constantly heard, “Oh, you’re Mary? Like the virgin?” In those young years, anything even tangentially related to sex was embarrassing, so this taunt immediately madeContinue reading “The Erasure of Mary the Tower”

For Lent, God is Taking My Breath Away

When Ash Wednesday arrived, I felt downright guilty for not having a smudge on my forehead—but I also couldn’t bear the thought of a liturgical service. The “break-up” is too fresh. So instead I enjoyed the tulips I’d bought a few days before to commemorate my late father’s birthday. They were saggy when I first brought them home, but on Wednesday they stood straight up, red-and-yellow sentinels attesting to the goodness of God. Oh, I remembered that I’m dust. I remember it every day. But at least I was able to honor the beauty around me as I slowly return to ash.