From New Year's to Lenten Resolutions

Good-bye Shire Breakfast,
hello, fasting...(no one could
eat this much in one sitting
anyway, right?)

A couple days before New Year's, my husband and I went out for a "Shire Breakfast." Denny's was featuring a menu with dishes spun off the "Hobbit," the newly-released movie based on J.R.R. Tolkien's classic tale. Saturday breakfast Bartholomew-style means heading out into pre-daylight. After 23 years of marriage, my husband has converted me. It's either roll out of bed around 5:30 AM and venture forth into that bleary-eyed world, or lose that breakfast connection with him.

I've been walking about 2 1/2 miles to and from Mass 
in all weather thanks to a New Year's Resolution.

On this particular day, we hid in a corner booth. The waitress chatted with us about "Shire" selections and our favorite Tolkien scenes from his novel, as she plied us with coffee. Continuing the epic flare of our conversation as we tucked away pumpkin pancakes and "Shire sausage," we discussed New Year's Resolutions. At one point, my husband said, "There's no reason why you can't go to daily Mass."

With his work downtown and needing to catch an early train, my husband hasn't chosen this option, but he challenged me.

"But every time I try to do that, I get sick," I protested. After about one week adding Mass to an already tight schedule, I usually find myself battling sore throats, sinus infections, etc.

I walk past this historic house connected 
with author Ernest Hemingway after Mass
on my way to town. A cheerful sight 
each morning!

"Well," he countered. "Maybe it's time you tried again."

After breakfast we headed to Home Depot, a peaceful destination at that hour and season. We rambled along together, until Ed got caught in the mousetrap aisle. An amazing end-of-season sale drew me to houseplants.

One tropical plant as tall as my waist beckoned. The price was ridiculously low. Amidst our winter's deep freeze, wouldn't some jungle-like foliage be welcome? Also, it would nicely remind me of my new connections in India (Pray the News in 2013).

The plant needed a larger pot, threatening to make the whole project too expensive. I lined up several plants in the aisle. Several pots. Crossed my arms. Frowned. A middle-aged woman in the orange Home Depot apron popped around the corner. "Can I help?"

I've been taking good care of my new
umbrella plant.

She joined my search, shuffling pots, checking price tags, climbing on all fours into the back of deep shelving units. She finally found a great deal.


"I'll pot your plant for you," she offered.

"Free?"

"Absolutely."

Thus began a lengthy process of emptying three new bags of soil into the pot, loosening my plant's root ball, and positioning it absolutely straight and centered, a task she approached like an interior decorator hanging wallpaper. 

There are master chefs and master painters. I was watching a master planter. She poured in several $6-7 bags of soil and tapped the pot gently onto the floor to disperse it gently around the rootball. She repeated the process once, twice, then again. She opened a $6 bag of sphagnum moss. I wondered how Home Depot was making money on this deal. 

"You're potting this for free, right?"

"Oh, yes."

I'm doing well with all my houseplants this winter.
For someone who loves gardening, I have a bad track
record with keeping indoor plants alive. Maybe 2013
will change all that. :)

The result? You judge, but we think our new "umbrella plant" looks great!

Over these past weeks, I've often thought about that Home Depot lady. She was professional but warm. She cheerfully crawled around the floor and dug in dirt to make customers happy. She treated that plant like her own. I hope I treat others with such care and dignity. I wouldn't have gotten the plant without her help, and it has become a nice reminder of a number of things: the impact of treating people well, the gift of cross-continental friendship and -- a reminder of a significant morning.

You see, that Shire Breakfast started me off in a new direction. The New Year's Resolution conversation was a watershed, launching me off like Tolkien's Frodo on a quest -- walking to and attending daily Mass each morning. How have I been doing?

Through January, I attended Mass every Sunday and weekday, taking off Saturdays to recover. Hurray! Now this brisk early-morning walk to Mass is so embedded in my daily schedule, I feel off keel on Saturdays when I miss the opportunity. 

But I can't get cocky.  February hit and I felt my energy dip, as I rolled out of bed just 20 minutes before departure. A few days ago, I started feeling under the weather, fighting off chills just in time for Lent. But I'm determined. I was healthy for six weeks of daily Mass attendance, and feeling great as I shuffled through snow to make that 6:15 AM appointment with God. I'm recognizing people in the pews and giving my own version of the papal wave as we all wish each other peace. 

My mom prayed this novena
when deciding whether or not
to marry my father -- a widow
15 years her senior with four
children, aged 9 and under.
She prayed it again to plead
heaven's aid in conceiving my
older brother.

Keeping in the flow of the liturgical year is so beautiful...noting daily saints and reflecting on the readings being offered in every Catholic church world-wide. But most importantly, receiving the daily Eucharist changes the whole focus of the day. As soon as I post this blog, I'm going to go get more Vitamin C! No, I can't let illness deter me...

As for Lenten Resolutions besides daily Mass? I may be choosing too many! I've added prayers to my routine over the past month, becoming better friends with Sts. Raphael and Jude, and the Blessed Mother (through her 54-day Rosary Novena). I'd like to continue with the prayers (posted below), keep up a daily rosary, go off desserts, and give up clutter in my house. And one more. As I go about my days, may I lavish others with the consideration and joy of a "master planter." 

Prayer to St. Raphael -- Patron of Travelers and Bearers of the Good News

St. Raphael, archangel, you protected young Tobiah as he journeyed to a distant land. Protect all travelers and most especially those who go about near and far preaching the Gospel. Guide and inspire modern apostles who use the communications media to bring the Good News of Christ to many souls. 

You also brought healing and joy to all you met. Help those who bring the Word of God to souls, that they may be as instruments in God's hands to draw many to lives of Christian holiness.

We ask this through Christ our Lord, Amen.

© Daughters of St. Paul

Prayer to St. Jude

Most holy apostle, St. Jude, faithful servant and friend of Jesus, the Church honors and invokes you universally as the patron of hope. Pray for me when I feel helpless and alone. Please make use of that particular privelege given to you, to bring hope and comfort and help where they are needed most. Come to my assistance in this great need that I may receive the consolation and help of heaven in my tribulations and sufferings, particularly (here make your request). I promise, blessed St. Jude, to be ever mindful of this great favor, to always honor you as my special and powerful patron, and to gratefully encourage devotion to you. Amen.

From National Shrine of St. Jude/Claretian Missionaries

Anniversary Blessings and All That Jazz

A bit grainy, taken off our cell phone, but proof of a
great "date night!"

My husband and I lived in different parts of Chicago the four years we dated. My little efficiency apartments featured a cast iron "Murphy bed" that threatened to squash me every time I lowered it from its closet, views of brick walls across alleys, cantankerous scraping of elevator cables sounding through the night and, yes, jumbo-sized cockroaches.

From the official Murphy Bed Co.
website. Folding away my cast iron
bed each morning was a feat of
strength and willpower!

On the upside, these cubbyholes granted me access to St. Clement's Church and singing in its choir, Lincoln Park brownstones, lakefront strolls, forays to the zoo and conservatory, cheap diners, classic movies at the Music Box Theater, coffee house sessions at the Old Town School of Folk Music. 

Ed and I were in our early 20's, had student loan payments, and were working for non-profits, but we didn't need much cash to have fun. He would hop a bus to meet me and we would walk and talk for hours -- rain, snow or shine. Some of the world's best sight-seeing was at our disposal, and we never carried a scrap of extra weight during those years!

So...to celebrate our 23rd Anniversary Saturday night, Ed took me to Girl and the Goat in Chicago's West Loop area (owned and run by Iron Chef America contender Stephanie Izard). Chickpea fritters; pork, beef and goat stew with homemade noodles; fresh-baked bread with bacon, butter, and diced pear. Outstanding and surprising  dishes! Dim, artsy interior with rustic tables and floor, wood-fed brick oven, chefs in tall, cylindrical hats, and a soaring bar area with iron grill work salvaged from some architectural treasure house.

Chicago's Field Museum, just a bus ride away when we
lived in the city. Photo by Bartholomew

After a week of our family fighting a respiratory bug, it was so delightful and unexpected to escape for the evening. After-dinner espresso and latte at La Colombe Coffeehouse on Randolph Street, then on to the Jazz Showcase to hear Benny Green and his trio. We sipped Bailey's Irish Cream in front row seats, positioned perfectly to see the pianist's flying hands. 

After the first set, Benny autographed a CD for us: "Marianna and Ed, Happy 23 Years! Many, many more and on and on..." When he saw us still there after the second set, he greeted us by name. He was upset, saying if he had known we stayed, he would have dedicated a song to us. He leapt back on the stage, grabbed the mike, but by then the lights were up and house music playing. The thought was there!

Funny how jazz has been a recurring theme in my life this year. I wrote about another powerful jazz encounter here: Monsignor Reilly, Great Jazz and an Amazing Week.

But back to Jazz Showcase. We watched the pianist (Benny Green), bassist (Ben Wolfe) and drummer (Kenny Washington) in awe as they moved in and out of improvisation seamlessly. Distinct voices, yet one stunningly unified team. Sounds like a metaphor for marriage at its best, although I didn't think of that at the time. During intermission, Benny told Ed and I that when he composed, he expressed things in music he couldn't put into words. I told him his music and performance reminded me of prayer. It seemed so fundamental, spiritual and free. He seemed touched when we said we couldn't think of a nicer way to spend our anniversary. He looks so edgy on his CD cover, but in person, seemed gentle and receptive, thanked us for our encouragement, and said "bless you," several times, for our comments.

In Father Robert Barron's youtube video about Seven Great Qualities of a New Evangelist, he talks about how we must be plugged into culture, and find God's truths and beauty shining forth through even the secular arts. I definitely felt God's goodness pouring through this trio's music. At times, the sounds were so delicate and probing, they seemed to express qualities like love, loneliness and pondering. At other times, these three men in suits rocked with exuberance, laying all their energies into themes they explored with deepening intensity.

Before we married, Ed read Jane Eyre to
please me. Pictured here is author
Charlote Bronte, painted by
J.H. Thompson. Image is in public
domain due to age.

Learning to appreciate jazz has been a labor of love. When I first met my husband, I thought jazz ran in circles with nowhere to go. But living 23 years with a trumpet player has led me to lay down prejudices. I've been blessed by an enjoyment of jazz that might never have developed if I hadn't determined to like it for Ed's sake.

The great thing, is that my husband also gives my preferences a try, which led him to read my favorite book of all time before we married (Charlotte Bronte's Jane Eyre), buy a second-hand canoe this summer, and take me to such an out of the box restaurant featuring goat cheese and locally-grown veggies for our anniversary!

That great meal and music was soporific, because next morning, the whole family stayed in bed until noon -- an unheard-of luxury. We arose to Ed and my actual anniversary day, which mimicked the glorious, sunshiny weather of our wedding day. I remember my parents driving me and my boxed wedding dress and veil along Lake Shore Drive toward St. Clement's Church, Lake Michigan glistening at our side and sun smiling overhead -- and us belting out the show tune from "My Fair Lady" -- "I'm getting married in the morning. Ding-dong the bells are going to chime..."

We had relatives fly in from as far away as Ireland and England. We never guessed that within a week, Ed's father would be stricken by a brain embolism. How blessed we were to have both sets of our parents at the wedding.

The now-Bishop of Tulsa (then, President of the Catholic Church Extension Society) Father Edward Slattery, sang the "Creation Mass," and our St. Clement's Church Choir sang, finishing with part of the Hallelujah chorus from Handel's Messiah. After Ed and I were named husband and wife we turned to face the congregation, and the 30-some members of the choir waved to us from the loft of the newly-refurbished, historic, Romanesque-style church! Ahhh, memories.

Memories filtered pleasantly through my brain all weekend, as our leisurely celebration of life together extended through Sunday. We had two coupons for a nearby coffeehouse, so walked there in the afternoon to exchange gifts. I bet we looked silly walking down the street, each carrying a large, brown shopping bag. Ed got me an ingenious bird feeder that attaches to the kitchen window so we can watch birds while doing dishes. I got him a quintet's worth of Canadian Brass sheet music so he can play with the kids on their trombone, trumpet and clarinet, along with a Canadian Brass CD. Also, Handel's Messiah sheet music and CD so he can play along on his trumpet. I love how our gifts benefit the whole family.

Later, at 5:00 PM Mass, our family was asked to bring up the gifts. The entire theme of the Mass happened to revolve around the one-flesh, sacramental union of husband and wife. A great Indian priest gave a homily full of scriptural references and rich insights as to God's plan for marriage. In one of the lighter moments, he told of an English couple who held a world record for being married for eighty-something years! The wife advised forgiving each other and always going to bed good friends. The husband summed up his approach in two words: "Yes, Dear!"

The Battle of Lepanto, 1571, painted by acclaimed,
19th-century Filipino master Juan Luna. Image is in public
domain, due to age.

After dinner, I read this article from Soul Magazine to Ed and the kids, to remind us about what an amazing anniversary date Ed and I have. October 7th is the Feast of the Holy Rosary. On this day in 1571, the last oared, naval battle in history took place. An outnumbered, ragtag fleet of Christians turned back a powerful invading force of Turks threatening to overrun Europe. (The Muslim fleet was powered by Christian slaves at the oars.) The Christian victory is credited to the fact that Europe united in praying the rosary, since defeat seemed certain. You have to read the story of this incredible battle. The prolific writer G.K. Chesterton wrote a poem about the event, called Lepanto. The language and imagery are breathtaking. 

Well, for Ed and I it's been twenty-three years (not counting the four we dated) -- six pregnancies (three miscarriages), various catastrophes (job loss, illness, disputes) -- but above all, shared faith, sacramental blessings, companionship, family, and the sense of adventure as new opportunities unfold.

Looking out to a bright future,
with Edward J. Slattery, now
Bishop of Tulsa, OK.

Has it all played out as I envisioned as a 16-year-old? Hardly. In many ways it has surpassed my hopes and dreams. It's a lot like jazz. We improvise as we go, helping the other each sound his or her own unique tune, yet begging God to blend us in pleasing harmony, forging something beautiful in our hearts, home and the world.

Summer Holiday

Photo by Marianna & Ed Bartholomew 

Summer Holiday
By Marianna Bartholomew

Green         to swim and roll in
                 to tickle face and feet
                 to smile in

Sweet         breeze to bathe and breathe in 
                 to wave arms and to sigh in

Smooth       lake to drift and dance in

Soft            cotton to wrap in

Gentle         arms to nap in

Originally called "Early Summer Holiday," I took the "Early" off in honor of August. I wrote this as a young, single woman, dreaming about the ultimate summer day -- shared with some amazing man who had yet to arrive on the scene...

God answered my prayers in my husband of 23 years. Back in the day when my man had his acoustic guitar out daily (he's a trumpet player now), we put these words to music. 

It's been such a busy summer. Lots of DIY projects and tasks. How about you? I just had to post a little reminder that summer (and time with our loved ones) is to be savored.