Wednesday, October 2, 2013

A Miraculous Day

Sr, Ann and Fr.Gallagher

About a week ago, Rebecca was feeling laid up and so we couldn’t do our morning jog.  Instead, I trotted to her house for tea, and then meant to trot home. But, alas, I had hardly gotten started on my way home, when I felt a little “whoosh” in my hip.  I know that a hip can’t really go whoosh, but that is exactly what it felt like. Immediately, my hip hurt – not terribly, but enough to slow me down and to give me a decided limp.  I hobbled home, feeling guilty for walking, as I had committed myself to Becca to jog, but it was just too uncomfortable.  I thought it was probably sciatica, but it didn’t feel exactly like that.  It was strange and unpleasant. About half of my patients have just gotten  new hips – hours before I meet them - and they are usually not terribly happy campers.  The specter of joining their ranks was haunting me. (It is a known fact that medical folk are often inclined to imagine the worst scenario for their own personal  ills.) For the week since, I have been hobbling around, achy, grumpy, and feeling like a very old thing. I even called in sick for half of a shift – although, I felt pretty yucky in other ways too, so the combination made me feel justified – sort of.  A week of shuffling about, whinging incessantly was getting discouraging. 

Today, our choir sang at the funeral of Father William Gallagher, the former pastor of the Cathedral.  He was a pretty spectacular fellow, transforming the Cathedral from a slightly shabby inner-city parish with 400 families – and one that folks were nervous about going to lest they get mugged as they approached the door – to a sparkling inne-rcity parish with 1200 families, a first-rate and nationally noted music program, and many outreach programs to assist the nearby needy. This latter included the Catholic Worker’s Family Kitchen (now the Cathedral Kitchen) where a an excellent, healthy, and free meal is served every weekday of the year.  He was loved by so many – a kind man who did not distinguish or judge.  I recall that once, when I was distress about my troubles with my mother, who could at times, be a real pill, I attended Mass at St James, and his homily, which had something to do with a jar of beans, brought me real peace of mind.  This was probably thirty years ago, but I have not forgotten the profound effect of his words.  I have tried and tried to remember what he said about the jar of beans, but that jar is the only thing of the homily that I remember.  Besides, of course, its solacing effect on me.

What does this have to do with my hip, you might ask.  Well, at the conclusion of the funeral, I was walking down the aisle, toward the exit, when my hip gave a little inner “click.”  Mirabile dictu, the pain was instantly gone!  This was perhaps Father Gallagher’s first saintly miracle!   I strode home in much better spirits than those with which I had limped to church a few hours earlier. 

Our beautiful Cathedral


Tootsie said...

How blessed you are, you had two miracles, your hip and the jar of beans!. How wonderful

Marta said...

Miracle is well deserved!
So happy for you and your hip.
Great photo of fr. and Sister Anne.

Dan and Julie in San Diego said...

Lucky you. These "popped put of place" things can be terrible until they pop back. Be sure to send some appreciation Fr. Gallagher's way. Appreciation is power! I'm going to try the oatmeal cookies. I love oatmeal.

Samos said...

Glad you're feeling better. :-)

I. F. said...

Beautiful music at the funeral!

Laura said...

That was a lovely tribute