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These have been in interesting few days. Last Thursday the doctor wrote that he does not want me to be doing public (parish) masses because it would be too much of a strain on my heart. Today I just now came back from Ohio BMV with my Handicap Parking Placard. In my wildest dreams I never thought these things would happen with me. I am learning a lot, steep learning curve.

I have no doubt that my Ignatian Retreat in September was Abba preparing me for all this, even though at the time I really thought I was being prepared for something entirely different. As usual, I was wrong. My prayer since then has focused a lot on Welcoming: I welcome everything that comes to me today, because I know it is of Abba in my life. This is real. I know my heart failure can go on for quite a while, or it can end now all of the sudden. At times just walking out to the car is a challenge. I notice in myself a joy filed peace. People have sent me, in one way or another, worthwhile pertinent magazine articles and books which are enlightening. I’m not comfortable writing so personally about myself, but I keep getting the sense that what I write might help somebody. I don’t know how to make it available to other folks. It seems too personal to me to put on my blog, or even print up for the wonderful senior center where I live.

I hope I am able to celebrate mass in our chapel from time to time. I do not feel comfortable  going to neighboring parishes for mass, since I don’t want to have an a cardiac incident in public. As usual, we’ll see how the all plays out. From where I am right now, I have no idea.

The cardiologist says he is sending my records to cardiac interventionists to see if any of them feel an intervention is worthwhile. I’m not sure how I feel about that. I’ve said no to surgery. I’ve had around 10 catheterizations over the years. Some have helped, others have not. Some have been under emergency conditions, and they are the ones that have helped noticeably.

I know people mean well. But when I say something that is meaningful to be, the well-meaning responses show they have no idea what I’m talking about or saying. Other folks in situations similar to mine, not necessarily limited to cardiac matters, know exactly what I am saying.

Over the years I’ve helped many people prepare for death, even in the act of dying itself. I remember so many very young men dying on the field of battle. I can still see the faces of many of them. I remember the smell, the touch, the fear which suddenly goes away as they relax and go wherever it is they go. I have done so much with their bodies — put them in body bags,  load them on helicopters, tried to push their intestines back into their abdomen, on occasion amputated limbs at the doctor’s direction, occasionally hugging them as they died. I had a sense of mission then that I’ve never had since.

I feel a sense of aloneness these days. I’ve buried my entire family except for my father who died the week I entered college. Recently I buried two of my sisters in just a few months. I’m coming to a new and difficult, even painful, sense of celibacy. It would be nice to have someone to share my many and varied feelings with. I had other thoughts on celibacy when I was younger and on active duty. These days I really notice the aloneness, even loneliness. Many times in my life when I’ve really felt the need to talk with somebody, often just anybody, I’ve not been able to find anybody at all. It seems that Abba was telling me with him in my life I don’t need anybody else. I’m not sure about that at all. Maybe I was just trying to protect myself. People mean well, but they have their own lives to live.

Last November when I had the heart attack in my car here in the parking lot, I had a feeling of profound peace. I know what is coming, my next step, is good. At times I feel I have a foot in both worlds, so to speak. I feel that I know, but I don’t know what it is that I know, but I know. At times when folks ask me something and I respond, I notice two things: I know what I’m saying is not from me and I am amazed at what comes out, and this is especially true in the Sacrament off Reconciliation; the expression on people’s face changes, I don’t know how to describe it. The people say they feel a great peace, as do I when this happens. There are other people who think I am somehow off my rocker. Sometimes I think that too.

I have a sense that I am in the middle of something good happening. Perhaps it is what we know as Trinity, with is pure relationship. I’m not sure what is going on, but I wouldn’t change a thing.