“ I just can’t recall what started it all
Or how to begin in the end
I ain’t here to break it
Just see how far it will bend ”
Johannes/ Homme / Melchiondo
You may sometimes hear someone complain that “…the days roll into each other.” Or perhaps “Everyday is the same.” You may even have said something similar yourself. But no two days are ever the same, if you’re paying attention. And I mean really paying attention.
On Friday we drove to Drumshambo then on to Kilronan Castle to attend the wedding of Tracey and Mark Clerkin, my Soulmate’s cousin. Hottest day of the year. Three of Eileen’s aunties were on crutches…they all swear it was a coincidence. Lovely meandering homily by Fr. Frankie. Wandered through the snappily titled Monastery of St. Mary of the Angels of Perpetual Adoration ( Poor Clares ) Drumshambo, where an enclosed order of nuns pray for my sins, and quite possibly yours. We went into the church and said a prayer for the newlyweds. I wondered if there is an order of Rich Clares ? The enclosed nuns pray in the main body of the church and there are two places, at the very back, or to the right of the altar where parishioners, or visiting wedding guests can sit and join them in a prayer. We’re separated from the nuns by large black metal railings in case we lose the run of ourselves and rush the altar and try and hug a nun in a frenzy of prayer.
We sat at the very, very back. There was a local parishioner kneeling in front of us praying, at least I assume she was praying, she may have been manifesting that evening’s EuroMillions lottery numbers…which I guess is a form of prayer. And on the other side of the large black railings , roughly three rows back from the altar , kneeling to the extreme right, was a nun, praying. Again, that’s an assumption on my part, maybe she too was manifesting that evening’s EuroMillions lottery numbers, because maybe that’s how you get into the Rich Clares, you have to have significant assets.
I said my few prayers in a few moments. The nun the other side of the large black metal railings got up that morning at midnight, prayed at 12.30am, slept, up again at 5.00am , meditation at 6.00am, Rosary at 7.00am, mass at 7.30am, breakfast, work, morning prayers, midday prayers, dinner, general work, quite time at 1.30pm..which is odd as they are a silent contemplative order, afternoon prayers, evening prayers, supper, 6.30pm recreation , where they are allowed talk for the only time, night prayer at 7.30pm , bed at 9pm. And they are encouraged to pop into the church and pray in between all that.
And yet, every day is different.
The day we were there was the hottest day of the year. That made it different. Even if you were doing the exact same thing you’d done the day before, and the day before and the day before…it would feel different, if you were looking for a difference. The sun would have shone differently casting new multi-coloured reflections on the floor. The Swallows outside were going gangbusters on the multitude of flies that exploded into life because of the heat. All of these little things would have made that day different. Perhaps she got a gentle hint of my new aftershave. And she certainly heard the groan I made as I tried to get up after kneeling in prayer for a few minutes. Hopefully she got a laugh out of that. Or maybe the heat and the rays of sunshine had lulled her into a daydream and… she walked outside and marvelled at the fact that everyone was happy, there were lots more cars than she recalled, but it was 30 years since she’d left the confines of the Monastery of St.Mary of the Angels of Perpetual Adoration ( Poor Clares ) Drumshambo. There were glass fronted shops where there hadn’t been before, the bank was closed…maybe people didn’t need money anymore, she smiled at that, she hadn’t had, nor needed money in the longest time. Some children passed laughing and looking at tiny television screens in their hands. What wonders ! This must be the future. How things have progressed. This is the utopia she had prayed for all of these years. She heard a man crying. He was wearing a pale yellow linen suit and rather fetching Adidas shell toes. He had his back to her but she could see that he was upset and pointing up at something….then she saw it and took a sharp intake of breath and muttered out loud, for the first time in 30 years outside the hour of 6.30 and 7.30pm “Oh Sweet Divine Jesus !”. Across the road was a large billboard advertising the Monaghan Country Music Festival. She stared and tried to make sense of it all. She thought she was in the future and yet nothing had changed in 30 years , Jimmy Buckley , Michael English and Mike Denver were still headlining ! She grabbed the hem of her habit and ran back up the hill to the monastery and banged on the large black metal railings with her bare fists “ Please let me back in !” she pleaded it. “I’ll pray harder !”
She banged on the large black metal railings and…woke with a start. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a beautiful lady in a burgundy dress helping a man up from a kneeling position at the back of the church. He was groaning. She shook her head. He was wearing a pale yellow linen suit and rather fetching Adidas shell toes…
I thought the nun was looking at me, so I started a wee wave. Eileen grabbed my arm and ushered me gently , but determinedly out into the churchyard where we rejoined the wedding party.
On Tuesday I was in Dublin for my bi-yearly CT scans and blood tests. I went to Beaumont for the blood test and was surprised at how short the queue was. You get asked your name, date of birth and address a number of times during the process, which I never mind, as I always get the chance to emphasise the ‘Monaghan’ part of my address, saying it slightly louder than the rest and giving a wee nod when they look at me oddly. I was directed to chair 4, and the nurse that was about to take my blood was trying to help another nurse sort out an IT issue on a screen between the two stations. I tune out whenever people start talking about practical technology. I will happily listen to a 7 hour podcast on blackholes, time distillation, quantum physics and, or, the multiverse, but as soon as there is anything that comes with instructions , tabs, or codes, I’m out. For the record I don’t understand anything that’s actually discussed during a 7 hour podcast on blackholes, time distillation, quantum physics and, or, the multiverse , but I love the enthusiasm with which they discus it. You don’t get that same enthusiasm when someone is explaining what you did wrong in a spreadsheet.
My nurse apologised for keeping me, she said “IT” and rolled her eyes to heaven. I smiled. It took her two goes to get a gusher. She apologised after the first go, and I said it was OK, my veins have developed a self defence mechanism since chemo.
I drove over to St.Joseph’s in Raheny to get my CT scan. I usually get them done in Beaumont, but whenever they’re especially busy they use the old one in St.Joseph’s, which I actually prefer, as the queue is always very short ..and there’s no charge for parking.
My nurse, Bernard, asked me my name, date of birth and address and laughed when I said Monaghan louder. He took me into the scanner and asked if I’d had this done before, and laughed again when I said that I was almost into double figures, and was it true that when I get to 10 scans I get to take the scanner home with me ? He said no. He introduced me to another nurse, Lorraine, who was going to insert the cannula. During the scan itself they inject a radioactive contrast dye into me to highlight any bits that shouldn’t be there. Lorraine saw my two bandages on my left arm from the blood test, and opted to try my right arm for the cannula. She gave up , apologising, after two goes and asked Bernard to try. He apologised and I said “Please don’t. You guys are all trying to save my life and I appreciate it. Stab away to your hearts content.” He got it on his second go.
The machine whirrs into life then and you’re left on your own. I’m never entirely sure if the bit I’m lying on moves into the machine, or the machine moves over me. An old jaded computerised voice tells me to breath in, hold, then breathe again. This is not my first rodeo so I avoid looking at the little blinking radar at the top that has a tiny faded sign that says “Do NOT look at this light”.
Bernard comes back in then and injects the dye and the process repeats.
I say my prayers.
I never say my prayers for me, I always think of family and friends, runners, people no longer with us, and also for people I don’t know, but whom a higher power might know is in need. I’m old fashioned when it comes to praying, despite my notions of enlightenment. I say a morning prayer, regardless of the time of day, a prayer to St.Joseph, that Fr.Nolan made us learn off by heart when we were in first year, then the Memorare, followed by three intentions, one Our Father, three Hail Mary’s, and a ‘Glory Be’, followed by three thank yous for the three earlier intentions, a prayer to the Holy Ghost, another to Our Lady of Mount Carmel, and then nine Hail Marys to St.Anne, which you’re supposed to say before 11am on a Tuesday for a wish/indulgence/favour, but I say it whenever.
I thought of Sr.Ermintrude, the nun in the Monastery of St.Mary of the Angels of Perpetual Adoration ( Poor Clares ) Drumshambo, and the wonderful day she was having, and I was having, at that very moment.
( I have no idea what her real name is, but I’ve always liked the name Ermintrude as she was the best character, not counting Dougal…or Zebedee, in The Magic Roundabout).
I’m having a thoroughly enjoyable time reading Jonas Jonasson’s ‘The Hundred Year Old Man’ these evenings instead of doomscrolling. There is a piece in it where a character is explaining that he bought two pallets worth of beautiful leather bound bibles that had been due for destruction as they were ‘erroneous’. Just to be on the safe side he decided that he better read it and check what was wrong with them. Over many weeks, whenever he had some time, he’d read his old bible from school side by side, page by page with the ‘erroneos’ one to determine the difference and gradually became more and more perplexed as they were identical in every aspect…until he got to the very last page of Revelations. In his old bible the last two verses are :
22:20 “The one who guarantees these revelations repeats his promise : I shall indeed be with you soon. Amen ; come,Lord Jesus.”
22:21 “The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you all. Amen.”
But in his erroneous one there was in addition a verse 22:22 which read :
“And they all lived happily ever after.”
I loved it.
And I know in my heart of hearts that Sr. Ermintrude would too.
Enjoy this day.
I am.
Toodles,
Paul
P.S. This is Olivia Rodrigo singing Fontaines DC’s ‘I Love You’ in Dublin last week. I get a kick out of her singing about Fine Gael and Fianna Fáil, and Sr.Ermintrude would too !
