Armor of Hope

A tombstone in St. Paul’s Chapel/cemetery located across the street from Ground Zero. The church miraculously untouched by the firestorm, is where George Washington prayed before he was sworn in, as the first President of the United States. (photo taken 10/28/06)


Guess what? WE are going to Chicago on Saturday Jan.

This is an email I get from my mother.
So I call her. Her voice trembling, she tells me that her hands are clammy and that she is flustered.

In the process of patting herself on the back with an email to me,
she was proudly reporting that on a split second decision (a feat), she went online (another feat) and purchased roundtrip train tickets for herself and my father to travel to Chicago (yet another feat).
In the middle of composing the email, she looked at the calendar and realized that the tickets she bought were not for Saturday, the 27th of January, but for Wednesday, the 24th of January- the day she was writing to me (hence the cryptic email)
By the time I called her, she had managed to straighten everything out, but not before she was worse for wear.

This is my wiring. (The family of fainting goats according to Steve) There is no escaping it either, because my father is even worse.
Every movement he pre-labels as a pag-aaralan natin
(let's study the situation).
As a result, I am a nervous nelly and an extremely cautious person.
A white knuckling driver.
( driving is an accomplishment since my mother has never driven a car)
I am inspired that my mother, at age 76, is able to perform outside of her comfort zone.
That she is able to act on impulse to attend grandparents day 600+ mi. away impresses me.
There is hope.