I haven’t visited Mary’s resting place in a couple years. Some of it was not feeling welcome by the church that houses her cremains. Some of it was not needing that place to connect with her spirit and memory.
For Mother’s Day, my sons wanted to stop by and I was also ready to return.
The courtyard was unkempt and I had a vague feeling that this place no longer held its previous significance.
There is melancholy in that. I’m notoriously rootless and I crave special places and rituals to ground me. There is also freedom. I have taught myself how to engage with Mary’s spirit wherever I am called to it.
Through all these thoughts I turned my eyes skyward and found a remarkable rainbow above us. Although I no longer need this place, it was the right place at the right time.
