A Funeral, Old Friends, and Oktoberfest Fun!

When Sister Maria Mechtilde left St. Mary's parish after over a decade of service to her parishioners, I missed her. I missed her smiling face and her witty humor. I missed her wealth of wisdom and her sympathetic ear. But when she died a week ago, I suddenly felt closer to her. I felt like I could call on her again, not only to give me advice, and help me to be patient, as she was, but to help my children grow in their faith and to look out for the good of their souls when I am not around.

This Friday, my mother, sister and I packed a few things and headed east over the mountains to Spokane, WA for the dear nun's funeral. My darlings happened to be with their dad this weekend so I was footloose and fancy free. I had been looking forward to one thing in particular...sleeping. Sleep has become an elusive desire of mine. I seem to be getting just enough to keep me going physically, but not quite mentally. And so, two-thirds of the way there I slept like a child in the back seat...Snuggie and all.

We reached Spokane around five o' clock and after walking the mall for a bit we grabbed a bite to eat and a specialty drink at Red Lobster. We all had the mind set of "We don't do this very often, let's do it right"....and so, we did.

At 8:30pm, being that it was the feast of Our Lady of the Rosary, a Rosary walk was held on the grounds of Mt. St. Michael's. Mount Saint Michael's is a beautiful Tudor-Gothic structure high on a bluff overlooking North Spokane. The building was erected in 1916 by the Jesuits and today it continues to fulfill its mission as an educational and religious center.

That evening, candles in specially made wind guards were passed out to those present. They looked like small lanterns ready to light our way in the pitch blackness. The only other lights were the bright moon and the city lights twinkling far below in the valley. A statue of Our Lady of Fatima was attached to a decorative wooden crate which was carried by four men. The angelic choir of nuns led the procession followed by the congregation with their lanterns. The Rosary prayers were recited by all and were mingled with beautiful hymns to our Lady. The sky was clear and the air was crisp.

After the touching ceremony concluded, the three of us headed back to the hotel. We were drunk with exhaustion and EVERYTHING made us laugh. I don't recall the last time I laughed so hard, and if I tried to explain what was so funny, it simply wouldn't be, so I will keep these memories in the 'I-guess-you-had-to-be-there' file.

The next morning, my mother was up long before the crack of dawn....something I always admired about her, and my sister followed shortly thereafter.  I, as usual, refused to get up any earlier than I had to. We were packed and ready to go by 7:45 am.

The funeral mass was everything one could hope for. A full church, beautiful voices filling the chapel, and a perfect eulogy. After mass, we walked in procession to the cemetery. Tears flowed as the other sisters presented her casket with dozens and dozens of pink roses. At one point, I closed my eyes and let the morning sun warm me, and in an instant, I could see Sr. Maria Mechtilde's smiling face. Later, my mother told me she had the same experience....surely this woman is in heaven.

As is the case in many families and circles of friends, the ripples of our lives have spread so far, that we may only see one another 'at weddings and funerals'.  This was the case for some of my dearest childhood friends. But it was such a blessing to see some of them and catch up on hugs and laughter. This meeting will hold us over now until next time. It is with these friendships that time never elapses, it is still now how it always was. Those relationships are rare and precious.

It was time to return home. Or was it?

Well, it was, but we decided to take the scenic route home. This route allowed us to see the many faces of Washington. We left the pine dotted far eastern side of the state, for the rolling wheat hills, the rugged basaltic canyons and the lush apple orchards, as we headed toward Wenatchee and eventually ended up in Leavenworth. The Bavarian-themed town's greatest event, Oktoberfest, was in full swing.

We arrived to find a crowd of eccentrics dressed in dirndls and lederhosen. Some wore funky hats of everything imaginable, from Egyptian pharaoh hats to fake Bob Marley dreads and everything in between. The streets were brimming with people of all ages, all looking to either sink their teeth into some authentic German food, or to have a drunken good time. We wanted a sampling of both (more food, less drunkenness). In fact, we were on the lookout for the best beer and bratwurst we could find.  After A LOT of walking, a lot of ducking in and out of 'off the beaten path' type stores, and a little fudge sampling, we found some food and beer.

We left satisfied.... a little too satisfied. I really wanted to change into my pajamas by the time we left, and I was looking forward to more sleep. I didn't get either on the way home, but what I got was an understanding of me. By that I mean, I got a better understanding of my mom, and through that, I found where I got some of the passions and tendencies that I possess, that I sometimes thought were illogical, if not illogical, then not very practical. For example, now I know where I got my wanderlust, my tendency to hum mindlessly, and my appreciation for the pretty little details of life.

Above all, I got away from the hustle and bustle of everyday. My mind is clear now and I am ready to listen attentively to the cares of my children. What a difference a day makes. Tomorrow the fabulous five will be home and I can't wait to see them.