Equality Before Death Bouguereau |
When I
decided back on March 1 to observe Lent this year by drawing one tarot card at
random and blogging about it in relation to Lent, I realized that there was one
calendar date looming in the future when that might be hard to do: April 10.
But
here's the thing about vows, and about Catholicism. The world is bigger than my
little concerns. I resolve to pray the rosary every day. There are four
mysteries: the Joyful, the Glorious, the Sorrowful, and the Luminous. Even if
it's a happy day for me, if it's the day to pray the Sorrowful mystery, I pray
the Sorrowful mystery.
Just
so with this project. April 10 would be a heavy day for me, but if I drew a
happy card, I'd blog about happiness, and not mention the day's secret
heartache for me.
As
April 10 came closer and closer, I asked myself what card I hoped to draw on
this day.
I
hoped to draw the six of cups – a card that speaks of pleasant childhood
memories. I drew that card, the six of cups, yesterday. And yesterday I asked
myself what card I'd draw today.
After
I shuffled the cards this morning and saw the card, I gasped and began to cry.
This is part of why I read tarot cards. They sometimes offer companionship in loneliness.
The
card I drew was the three of swords.
The
three of swords depicts three swords piercing a human heart. In the background
are storm clouds and rain.
The
cards shared my pain. And affirmed it. Yes, yes, this could all be coincidence.
But this card on this day allowed me to cry, and not to feel alone when crying.
And I am grateful for that.
There's
more.
Because
the swords are manmade items, I interpret this card as pain that humans cause
each other. This is not pain caused by a tornado that sucked a child out of a
window. These human-made swords have been thrust into this human heart by human
hands.
While
I was still crying over this, WQXR, the New York classical station, kept
reminding me that today is Sibling's Day. It struck me as so portentous that,
two years ago, my sister died on Sibling's Day. And then WQXR played Ralph
Vaughn Williams' variations on Greensleeves. And I just cried some more.
Antoinette told me how much she loved that song, in that version.
It's
hard to bring this around to Lent. I am, indeed, right now, firmly fixed deep
in my own heart. Antoinette, I don't think anyone ever loved you more than I. I
wish you and I had had more, better time with each other. But I was powerless
over that. You made your own choices.
My
best effort to swing this around to a Lenten theme is to quote the Beatitudes:
Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.
I've
gotta tell ya, I can't imagine what kind of comfort might be available in
Heaven that could heal these wounds. But he promises that it's there.
"Your grief will turn to joy," Jesus promises, in John 16:20.
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