Harvey Millican's Blog: Musings of a Trad Dad

That’s apparently the nautical term for the intentional sinking of a giant ship.

Just about an hour ago, the SS United States – still the record holder for fastest trans-Atlantic crossing by an ocean liner – plunged beneath the waters of the Gulf of Buc-ee’s. She’s going to become a reef or some such nonsense. Being terrified of the ocean, I could only watch a little of the actual coverage. She was supposed to go down early in the afternoon in bright sunshine. Instead, something went wrong (or she just refused to go under) and the whole thing took place in the dead of night and looked not unlike a disaster movie. Amazingly, once she started sinking she went fast. I can safely say that I am never going to dive to that reef or any other reef. I’m still not sure how my wife convinced me to go deep sea fishing off the Outer Banks two years ago. Copious gin was involved.

Do you know what else has been scuttled? My ability to ambulate without excruciating pain. The sciatica and restless leg syndrome caused by my two spinal fusions has decided it’s play time. I truly do try to catch myself before pride sets in but… A year ago I was still a very fit man. Although I am approaching 50 faster than that ship went under water, I was pretty much in the best shape of my life. I lifted weights regularly. I jumped rope like it was my job. I was active, healthy, and not prone to getting worn out easily. Today I feel like I need to rest constantly to alleviate the pain. Ironically, the thing that would help – walking – is the thing that hurts most. This could be God directing me to slow down and to offer some sacrifice to Him. I do not know. What I do know is that I would like for the few of you reading this to offer some prayers for yours truly.

Otherwise, the powers that be might simply tow me out into the Gulf and turn me into a reef.

My sister’s daughter found this among her belongings and felt I should have it.

Original sheet music to the Carpenter’s single Sing.

IYKYK

They now ring the bell 30 times – one for each man on board and once for Gordon Lightfoot.

I received a message from a dear friend that he was visiting the Shrine of St Rita in Philadelphia today. He would be praying for sister.

He did not know that… she was as devoted to St. Rita as I am, nor that she was buried with beads from Cascia and a holy card of the saint in her hands. Also, I had just come from a Mass in the parish that I had requested weeks earlier in honor of St. Rita.

What a beautiful way to start the day!

Saturday morning, my wife and I returned to the funeral home where we had been the night before. My sister was a much-loved woman and many people had come to pay their respects. As is the case for an Irish wake, there were tears and laughter, and praised be to God, more of the latter than the former.

We returned on Saturday for the private little service that funeral homes do right before heading to the church. In other words, I went to see her for a final time on this earth. All was fine until the words “please pay your final respects and kindly head to your car” were said. I approached her casket with my wife. They had taken away the kneeler so we could get closer. I placed my hand on her arm, remembering how her beautiful life and mine had intertwined so many times. And just as the remaining siblings who were also there did, I wept as I moved forward. Tears of joy, truly… mostly.

Friends, God picked a good time for her to go. The first full week of November? Plenary indulgences abounded. My most sincere thanks to all who prayed for her, who visited cemeteries and gained an indulgence, who have had Masses offered. Thank you to the priests who have already said Masses for her. And thank you to all who came or who reached out in other ways. Your kindness will not be forgotten.

Please continue to pray for her.

What’s with the title? Oh yes, load up. Thats what we did before they closed the lid. Do you know how many broken rosaries, tarnished medals, and torn holy cards we found in her apartment? She never threw those things away because they were blessed. So they went into the ground with her along with a holy card in her hand of St. Rita, for whom my sister had a particular devotion (as of course do many in my family). It is my hope that we continue to load up the prayers for her soul and as I’ve said once or twice before…

Stay confessed.

Hopefully this won’t be seen too late.

I opened my suitcase to find this.

For the unfamiliar, when one checks a bag at the airport, the lovely fed boys occasionally determine it necessary to open said bag and check for supposed contraband.

Whatever.

They leave the above show calling card. Thats cute.

Whenever this has happened to me I usually look through to see if they took anything. Usually they have not but in the past I’ve discovered whole unopened packs of Marlboros missing. I guess that’s their “fee”.

This time I could find nothing missing until this morning when I opened my shaving kit and discovered the following:

If you don’t know, that’s an empty container. It is sealed as it was beforehand. Only now, the approximately two ounces of holy water has been poured out. I always travel with this. I use it to sprinkle around hotel rooms, etc. and to bless myself each morning. Gone.

So to recap: they opened a large suitcase, opened the side panel, pulled out a smaller bag and opened that, went to the bottom of that bag (past the 10 oz bottle of contact lens solution), and poured out a bottle of holy water.

I do sincerely hope it did some good for whomever it fell upon.

And it was Epiphany water too…