- as transparent as the morning sky on 9/11.
Saturday, October 11, 2025
Friday, September 26, 2025
On a personal note
The Visitors - John Koch
Shared with Only me
“There is nothing more provocative than minding your own business.” - William S. Burroughs, The Place of Dead Roads
I had a somewhat disturbing dream one night, not too long ago. I suppose the theme was my social anxiety - the source of which I know. It also involved my lifelong sense of not fitting in - anywhere. And not wanting to. It was a dream revisiting something that happened long ago, but in a contemporary circumstance.
Sometime in the early '70's, my friends and I dropped acid and went to a poolside party somewhere in an eastside suburb of St. Paul. It was John, Jim, Bob, Linda and Donna and me. Mary Kay was at the party, I think I knew some of the people, but I was not friends with them. They were all straight. They stared at us as we all arrived. It felt like something out of a film, maybe like The Graduate. The women I was with apparently were not getting along with another group at the party. Whatever - the atmosphere was extremely uncomfortable and I had no social skills with those kind of people. LOL! I had been living and working in Minneapolis and pretending to be normal and sophisticated. (I worked in fashion display, had lived with my boss, 13 years my senior and had to act like an adult in very difficult snobby situations.) Then my friends came to the rescue and I kind of dropped out, enjoying the drugs and sort of reinventing myself. Another pretense, I might add.
Anyway - gratefully my friends were all turned off by the pool party and we agreed to leave - primarily because they started throwing people in the pool. We left.
Long story short, my dream last night was similar. Rather than try to engage in conversation with the people who were there, I went in the house and started to clean. I was hoping to be accepted that way - or excused for doing something nice for the hosts. They came to check on me now and then and I overheard them discussing what I was doing, while speculating why I was doing it. I stepped outside, out of view, looked at all of them and realized they were all strangers to me. That they had no idea who I was or what I was about. They said nice things to me, but were not sincere. I decided to leave and I heard a woman repeating - "You shouldn't go - you're going to end up completely alone... completely alone... completely alone." My first though, 'I don't know her.'
I left. I left knowing that though I am alone, I'm not alone.
That's it, that's the dream. I considered it a reflection of current situation with my family. They seem to have an endless stream of birthdays and get togethers - for holidays - real or made up, e.g. Christmas in July. I'm always invited, I rarely go. Sometimes I have a real excuse, which they don't believe and sometimes I just don't go - no excuse. I never reveal my actual health condition or problems, so they probably think I'm good to go. Just this past week I cancelled three appointments due to personal problems, which made it inconvenient to keep them. I mentioned it on FB, which they read, writing: "Rescheduled my appointment again. Wait until you get old. Things are not that simple. God forgive me for the impatience I have shown to others - reward them, favor them for having endured me." I feel so stupid revealing such things publicly, so I end up removing posts like that.
I frequently take posts down - or rather made it for my view only. I get discouraged sometimes and attempt to express it in writing. Writing helps me think, reading it helps me make sense of it, I've always done that. It seems to help. Afterwards, I tend to remove some posts since it solved whatever I was attempting to understand. That can frustrate readers though.
Yesterday, I noted another lost day. "I missed studio time today, as well as my appointment. I hate that. Nap time came early - Gabs loves that and she makes me happy when she's comfortable. I took the garbage out for trash day though. Oh - and we prayed our rosary outside. I'm relying on Fr. Charbel to help me get my projects finished in time. The saints tell us not to worry."
Most likely not connected to that post, one of my nephews sent me a private message saying I can't come to my aunt's 100th birthday party this weekend. He's on his long weekend off work, so he isn't always clear in conversations - be it live or text. I decided to play around, with a little back and forth. He wasn't in the mood, rather it turned out to be a challenge. Long story short, he was not happy I wasn't coming to the party. About two weeks ago, one of his sisters was unhappy I didn't come to another function.
I told my nephew that I am undependable, unreliable, irresponsible and always a disappointment. His last text was, "You got that right."
At least I got something right and he can feel better about himself now.
I need God's mercy now, more than ever.
I've never been close to family. I left home in senior high and never remained close. After Darold died I tried to be closer to them We didn't really know each other. Years ago, my parents complained about me to my sister's husband, blaming me for leaving home - telling him I was queer. He was freaked, told my parents and my sister I was no longer welcome in their home and he wanted nothing to do with me. So I wasn't close to the kids. After he died, I stayed away, fearing I'd be a bad example and influence for them. So they grew up estranged from me and I from them.
It's been touch and go all along. I have no hard feelings, but I'm not sure they get it - the fact of having been shamed and banned at one time - even though I had already separated myself from the family and sought to make a new life for myself.
So. I live alone now, with my cat.
Monday, September 01, 2025
Yes. Annunciation is my parish.
I kept notes on Facebook, they belong here.
I was at the church this afternoon praying the rosary and left another ex-voto.
It's been difficult. I wasn't at Mass that morning. Though I'm only four blocks south and three east, I never heard the shots. Other neighbors did though. I was going to try and stay offline and not turn on the television that day, but a helicopter hovering overhead for so long, moved me to do so. Coverage was live. I was completely stunned. It's my parish, my church and school, my neighbors, my kids - I was stunned. I prayed - and haven't stopped. As a diarist, I want to document my thoughts - so I'll cut and paste them here.
Helicopter hovering overhead, I turned on news. My parish church is surrounded by police and 1st responders - four blocks from my house. It appears there was a shooting at the school, on the second day of school. This morning was the all-school Mass. I'm watching everything live on television. Praying. Kind of stunned.
School started at 8:00
Mass started at 8:15
Shooting started at 8:30
Key Facts
Shooter opened fire inside Annunciation Church Police confirm 20 total victims reported EMS transported 12 victims from scene Two confirmed dead inside the church Shooter dressed all black, rifle armed Reunification point established by policeMany shootings this week in Minneapolis.
I'm numb. I can't even...
This breaks my heart. The stories from the kids - I'm praying the rosary all day.
I'm continuing to pray. Still feeling numb - kind of like what being in suspended animation might feel like. Maybe disengaged, yet not without a tremendous grief - just praying, sometimes with words.
I also came across speculation the two children could be considered martyrs since they were killed in hatred of the Faith. Aside from that speculation, God certainly received the little children who were slain in His Presence.
Comments were going downhill and I posted this:
Talk amongst yourselves.
If you don't attend Annunciation or live in the neighborhood, you have no idea how dumb you all sound expounding about political leaders, trans persons, mentally ill murderers, all the bullshit everyone gets into after one of these things happen. These are my neighbors, my kids - I actually contribute to their education. They are my family, my community and I like them - I love them. I greet them, talk to them, watch their kids grow up. The shooters mother worked at the parish. you have no idea what it's like to experience this. This isn't just another one of those things that happen. When it happens elsewhere, we've always watched it on the news - and we react. I get that. But stop for longer than a sound bite, or even an entire game show, and think - ponder, pray and maybe shut up for awhile. Stop condemning, stop the Culture War crap, and think. Examine your own conscience. Accuse yourself. Repent. Weep and mourn. Pray, pray, pray and pray some more.
Sorry, this hurts.
Thursday I began keeping vigil at the church.
I visited the church this evening, to view the memorials and flowers. It was crowded but very quiet. I saw the windows boarded up and noticed what seemed to be bullet marks on the stone as well as a missing chunk of stone closest to one of the boarded windows. I imagine it was blown away, not sure. I wandered, stood staring at the wall, finally sitting apart on a bleacher in the adjacent baseball diamond. All the while praying the sorrowful mysteries of the rosary. Then I left.
This tragedy reminds me of the Chicago, Our Lady of the Angels school fire, December 1, 1958. Different in magnitude and kind, but the actions of the students and faculty bear some similarity. Even the video of the kids leaving the sanctuary at Annunciation demonstrated a certain order and concern for fellow classmates. I think it says a lot for Catholic education - not to mention the prayer and faith of the students, parishioners and leaders in the parish. I am so edified by the stories, as well as the composure of the kids as they were interviewed by journalists. That peace and concern for fellow students, like Victor, the boy shot in the back who got his buddy Weston down and laid on him to protect him.
That's thoughts and prayers in action. Tell people without faith these stories. Don't be adversarial about it. They don't understand. Be kind - shield one another like Victor did. Love one another. Love your enemies as well. Pray for one another - especially for those without faith.
gun control.
The icon I donated in 2017.
It was still crowded, but quiet. I prayed the Sorrowful mysteries. People are still reeling and unable to process. It's so consoling to see the many people, of all ages and faiths, paying respects adding to the mountain of flowers. As Catholic as it gets, nun-trained former students have arranged everything, all lined up in buckets of water, stuffed animals interspersed. Neat and tidy.
A staff member spoke with me. He was there that day. I asked if the church had to be re-consecrated, he wasn't sure when but thought it may be a couple of months before that happens. In the meantime Masses will be in the school gym - the original church actually. He seemed to feel an urgency to tell me: "No matter what media and politicians say - this was about evil - evil was made manifest this day." It reminded me of what a little girl told a religious sister, "I saw things." The man speaking to me dismissed the shooter, searching for words to express what he meant - "evil got a hold of him that day." He clearly believed it was deeper than the shooter's personality, pathology, etc. It was a sobering experience listening to him. I can't reveal who the person was, but he's not a flake, he has great responsibility and credibility at the parish. I also thanked him and all there, including the Pastor, saying how impressed I was by their response and so on. He kind of choked up, telling me how grateful he was to be told that. I think many, many there that day are going to go through serious PTSD. The survivors, witnesses and families need our prayers.
Needless to say, my prayer took on an even more solemn expression, trusting in the Immaculata.
I went to a near by parish for Mass, Our Lady of Peace, the pastor is my confessor. After Mass I headed over to Annunciation to pray the rosary and drop off an ex-voto. They had Mass in the gym, which was obviously packed, with press and dignitaries. I recognized several as they toured the crime scene. Mayor Frey was there, Lieutenant Governor Peggy Flanagan and others whose names and titles I'm unsure of.
I did talk to the Director of Outreach & Community Life who was present at the Mass on the day of the shooting, of course, going through all the aftermath as well - I didn't ask questions, I just listened and hugged him. I overheard him telling another that they are getting a lot of hate emails regarding the shooter and his mother. He says it only adds to the horror and lamented the amount of hate that is out there. I hugged him again and left. They all need prayers - the survivors and the staff and students and their family. We can't pray if we hate - pray and drive away hate.
The police presence tonight was all over the parking lot and close to the mourning area. Something tells me continued threats could be an issue. Just a hunch - no one told me that.
My last commentary was two comments I made to my post yesterday. I closed comments and haven't poste my thoughts since.
Instead of a nap Gabs and I prayed the
Being sad, mourning and grief are good friends - they help me stay connected and seem to increase compassion and charity. I often think of a legend regarding Our Lady. Whenever she was in the Holy City, it is said she prayerfully traced the steps of Our Lord in his suffering and death, revisiting the site of his death and burial. An old monk told me that, explaining why he did the stations of the Cross on Easter morning after Mass.
I stayed at the church a bit longer than the past few days. While praying, I understood my being there praying had a deeper purpose, reparation. Making reparation for the desecration and offense against the Body of Christ. That's something Our Lady asks for. Total consecration to Our Lady means that we surrender everything to her. So, our intentions may be what they are - and she knows them well - and though they are not negated - as Mother she still can appropriate our prayer and sacrifices as she wills.* In this case - so it seemed to me - she accepts my weak efforts in a spirit of reparation, for all the outrage, sacrilege, contempt, rage and murder committed against the Body of Christ. That's my simple understanding of it. Today's prayer was rather intense. I left another ex-voto as well.
THE GOLDEN ARROW PRAYER
MAY THE MOST HOLY, MOST SACRED, MOST ADORABLE, MOST INCOMPREHENSIBLE AND UNUTTERABLE NAME OF GOD BE ALWAYS PRAISED, BLESSED, LOVED, ADORED AND GLORIFIED, IN HEAVEN, ON EARTH AND UNDER THE EARTH, BY ALL THE CREATURES OF GOD, AND BY THE SACRED HEART OF OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST, IN THE MOST HOLY SACRAMENT OF THE ALTAR. AMEN.
Most Holy Trinity—Father, Son and Holy Spirit—I adore Thee profoundly. I offer Thee the most precious Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity of Jesus Christ, present in all the tabernacles of the world, in reparation for the outrages, sacrileges, and indifferences whereby He is offended. And through the infinite merits of His Most Sacred Heart and the Immaculate Heart of Mary, I beg of Thee the conversion of poor sinners.
Terry Nelson
There was a black woman, dressed in sackcloth at the church tonight - barefoot and prostrate on the pavement, her head on the Bible, praying in tongues, lamenting and calling out for mercy - wailing loudly. I thought of Judith, Jeremiah, Lamentations. I spent time praying close to her - it was deeply moving.
Terry Nelson
I just never expected this - and yet I did. I had dreams when I was in process of returning to the Church, the sacraments - after reconciliation I had more dreams, warning me. Even this. Earlier this year, I had a premonition several people would die - people close to me or somehow in my life. I thought it would be this or that person - I didn't know. Such things aren't specific. Although the shooting I dreamt about years ago was rather accurate - except I thought I would be shot too - but I wasn't there - and I'm kind of sad about that.
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