“Thank you so much for being here.”
Where Would I Be?
Those words were spoken to me by a dear friend today. You see, my family and I were visiting a part of the country where we used to live when this friend’s father died. “Where else would I be?” I asked her. You see, my mother and father taught me the corporal works of mercy when I was a young boy. We had been through a horrible tragedy ourselves. Three of my siblings died in a house fire when I was four. I will forever remember the literally thousands who came out in the snow simply to be with us. I will never forget that. To bury the dead means to support the grieving as they bury their dead as well. I was here. Where else would I be?
He’s a Friend
And this got me thinking of other things. Earlier this week, a representative of a large Catholic organization said to me, “That man who runs that Canon212 website is crazy.” He was talking about Frank Walker. I will state here that Mr. Walker and I have never met. He has been kind enough to link my articles over the past few months and I greatly appreciate that. But I appreciate even more his honesty, his grit, and his love of the truth. Before you cast aspersions, remember that I was also raised by my parents to protect my friends. I was prepared to go all Jersey on this man but I held my tongue. “I consider him a friend,” I said. And we left it at that. Frank, if you’re reading this, I got your back.
We’ve Got To Stop Traveling
And speaking of Frank, you may have seen his headline about the hurricane bearing down on his area. If you see this, please offer a rosary for all those in the path of Ian. I was in Florida this summer with my wife and kids. We were in Bonita Springs and Siesta Key. These have apparently both been hit by this monster storm. Fifteen years ago, we visited Galveston and by the end of the summer, Hurricane Ike had ravaged the place. I think we need to stop traveling.
Also, Biden totally blew up the Nordstream Pipeline. Just sayin’…
Stella Maris, Ora pro Nobis!
Harvey Millican's Blog: Musings of a Trad Dad 