I experienced a personal tragedy on Easter morning. I was on the computer looking for a recipe for scalloped potatoes that bakes at the same temperature as the ham (because of all things that should be able to cook together ham and potatoes kinda takes top place, don't you think?) Finally the boys were too quiet for me to ignore any longer. I found them in my room, in my bed, throwing the pillows around. They hid under the covers when they saw me because they know very well they're not allowed to play in there but think it's a great game. And then I saw it. My rosary, in pieces, on the floor.
I just about hit the roof. Not only were they somewhere they didn't belong,playing with something they have been told (I think even that very morning) was not a toy and not to be played with. They had ripped apart something that was very special to me, something irreplaceable. It had been given to me by my Great Aunt Mary. I think before I had even made my First Communion.
My rosary might have been the first of these gifts she sent me. It is definitely the one that I have gotten the most use of. I love it. And I was devastated to find it destroyed. I think Bigger was the culprit - he fell apart too when I fell apart. And he made all the efforts possible of a dutiful (guilty?) 4 year old to make me happy again. Hugs and kisses, playing music for me on one of their musical toys, coloring me some flowers, suggesting that something to eat would make me feel better.
I've found all the pieces (there are 8.) It's all safely stashed in a small box, well out of the reach of little boys. I've had it repaired before, it can be fixed again. I think part of the trouble is that since it is older the metal links are weak. So hopefully tomorrow we'll go over to the Catholic bookstore and find a new one that has the same feel as mine. I do have others but they just don't feel right - too big, too heavy, beads to close together, beads too lumpy... And maybe they'll be able to repair mine or give us a good place to take it in town. I'm still a little heartbroken and feeling a little sorry for myself. This was not the Easter joy I wanted for all of us. And it just seems like I can't have anything nice or be able to keep anything safe. I think I'm adding a "playroom" to my dream wish list for our next home. Is three bedrooms, finished basement, dishwasher, washing machine, and fenced yard really so much to ask for? For my own sanity I hope we find it soon. And hope is better than feeling sorry for myself.