The Prayers of My Life

When I was a child and we would go and visit my Grammy, I would always have the privilege of sleeping with her in her room. My Grammy was gentle, kind, patient, and devout. Her room smelled of roses, the scent of her perfume. The wallpaper had big beautiful pink and red roses on it with a blush colored background. In the corner of the room was a chintz covered chair with a table beside it. The windows were covered with white sheers. They let in a lot of light, especially early in the morning. In the mornings I would open my eyes and my Grammy would be sitting in the corner in her chair saying her prayers. Her white pearl rosary beads in her hands as she quietly prayed. Every morning this is where you would find her. She started her day with prayer first. Even before her morning coffee. Oh, the wisdom. These many, many mornings are my first memories of the Rosary.

When I was a young 21 year old girl in nursing school my last quarter was particularly difficult. My mom was first diagnosed with breast cancer. I was also juggling a small singing career. The end of nursing school was approaching. The exams were intense and I was also studying for state exams. I remember many, many, nights laying awake in my dorm room praying the Rosary. "Please Lord, let me pass, let me get through this.Help my mom. Mother Mary, pray for me please".

When I was pregnant with my fourth baby, I started bleeding at eight weeks. The OB told me to get off of my feet and she would try and fit me in in the next couple of days for an ultrasound to see what was going on. As I laid on the couch and my then 5, 3, and 2 year old children played around me, I prayed the Rosary constantly and cried. "Please Lord, let me keep this baby." Patrick was born 7 months later.

When my mom was fighting her last fight with cancer. We prayed the Rosary together. She was bed ridden. It was the one constant in her day that she looked forward to, it got her through. Her speech started to deteriorate slowly, her mind started to go. But she always held her Rosary. Eventually our Rosary together was just one voice. Mine. I prayed as she lay there. "Lord, please take this from her". Her suffering is no more now. Our God is Merciful.

And now in my busy, full household, amidst all the laundry and cooking, the soccer practices and scout meetings, the Rosary is prayed. Sometimes in the evening. Sometimes in the van. Last week we turned on EWTN in the afternoon and prayed the Rosary in the living room. The sun was shining through the windows. Some children were sitting on the couch, others on the floor. The baby was walking around. She walked up to me and her arms reached up. I picked her up and she hugged me and rested her head on my shoulder. Her fingers played with my hair. "Oh Lord, thank you. Thank you for all of this."

The Rosary has always been weaved in and out of my life, the good and not-so-good. The beautiful prayers said as I meditate on the life of Christ. The Joyful, the Sorrowful, the Glorious and the Luminous. Many intentions have been prayed for on those beads. As I think of the Rosary in my life, I think of how it has always lead me closer to Jesus, how the Blessed Mother is always leading us to her son. Always.

Comments

[Melissa]

What a beautiful post!! I have to admit to knowing next to nothing about the Rosary - but, I too know the comfort of prayer and Jesus'peace! God bless, K, you are a beautiful God's girl!

[Julie]

I am so inspired by you!!

[Alexandra]

Beautiful and what lovely memories of your grandmother...thanks for sharing. :)

[Tiffany]

This was another one of your beautiful posts--your heart really shines through when you write like this. I am not Catholic but a Catholic friend was instrumental in bringing back to the Lord when I had strayed in college. I actually had rosary beads and prayed the rosary during that time. It was very peaceful.

[jessica]

beautiful. i want to be that kind of grandma.

[Donna]

Beautiful post, Kirsten.