The Importance of the Family Rosary

Most of this post is taken from the booklet “Our Glorious Faith and How To Lose It” written by Fr. Hugh Thwaites, S.J. The booklet contains different stories of how we can lose our faith, but this blog post will deal only with the Holy Rosary and how it can bring us back to our glorious faith. 

 

Fr. Thwaites’ words on this subject are as follows:

 

Without delay now, I want to talk about my theme. It seems to me that a principal cause of the loss of faith is the dropping off in the practice of the family rosary.

 

In Austria, after World War II, there was a complete collapse of vocations. One year, apparently, no one at all entered the seminaries. So the bishops held a synod, to find out how it could be that this had happened. The conclusion they reached was that the war had so disrupted family life that the centuries-old practice of the rosary in the home had stopped, and had just not started up again. <Pogi's thoughts>This is my experience, too; when I stop praying the rosary,  my faith soon collapses<end>.

<Fr. Thwaites’ words >I remember someone telling me of a friend of his, a great Catholic, the pillar of the parish, whose children had all lapsed, one after the other. They had all fallen away from the sacraments and from attending Mass. So I said to him, “I wouldn’t mind betting that your friend had been brought up to recite the family rosary when he was a boy, and that his children haven’t.” The next time I saw him, he said that this was indeed true. His friend had recited the family rosary at home when he was a boy, and when he had got married and started his own family they ll said the rosary. But then, one evening when they were about to start the rosary, one of the children switched on the television, and that was that. The custom of the family rosary was dropped, and in due course, they gave up the practice of the faith.

 

After this life, that one unrebuked action will be seen to have affected the eternity of many people. God sent His Mother to Fatima to tell us that we had to say the rosary every day. There were no other prayers She asked us to say. Accordingly, we should do what She asked.

 

A layman I met once who did not say his rosary told me that he read the breviary every day. That is fine. It is what priests have to do. It is the prayer of the Church. So in a way it is better than the rosary. But it is not what Our Lady asked for. She asked for the rosary. If a mother sends her child to the shop for a bottle of milk, and he comes back instead with ice cream, is she pleased? In a way, ice cream is better than milk, but it is not what she asked for.

 

In that most holy home at Nazareth, do you think that Our Lady had to ask for anything twice? If we want in any way to be like Jesus, we must do what His Mother asks. If we do not, can we expect things to go right? We cannot with impunity disobey the Mother of God. She knows better than we the dangers of this spiritual warfare. She sees more clearly than we do the dangers that beset us. She warns us: You must say your rosary every day.

 

If the garage mechanic warns you that your car needs repairing or else it will break down, surely you would heed that warning. If the gas gauge warns you that you need more gas, do you do nothing about it? And if Our Lady comes to Fatima and tells us, not just once but six times, that we must say the rosary every day, do we disregard that warning? If we do, we have only ourselves to blame when we find that our children have lapsed from the faith.

 

I know that Fatima is only a private revelation, but nevertheless the Church has endorsed it, and that makes it rash for us to disregard it. If the Church informs us that Our Lady really did come to Fatima and tell us these things, then we must hearken to her words. It really seems to me that those Catholics who do not take Fatima seriously and say the rosary every day in their homes are very akin to the Jews who laughed at Jeremiah. If God sends us His prophets and we do not take them seriously – well, we have the whole of the Old Testament to tell us what happens as a result. But at Fatima, God sent us, not His prophets, but His Immaculate Mother. So I think that the abandonment of the family rosary is a main reason why so many Catholics have lost the faith. It seems to me that the Church of the future is going to consist solely of those families who have been faithful to the rosary. But there will be vast numbers of people whose families used to be Catholic.

 

In my work of going round visiting homes, I have seen this conclusion borne out time and again. Homes can be transformed by starting the recitation of the daily rosary. I remember a woman telling me that she could not thank me enough for having nagged her into starting it; it had united her family as never before. And I remember another home where I called. There was a strange tension there: the children were silent and the wife seemed withdrawn, but the husband was willing to start the family rosary. When I called back again a couple of months later, the atmosphere was quite different. The children were chatty and the wife was friendly, and the husband walked down the road with me afterwards and said how amazing it was that the home was so much happier.

 

One reason, I think, why the daily rosary makes for a happy home, is this. From what some possessed people have said, and from what some of the saints have said, it seems certain that demons fear the rosary. It makes their hair stand on end, so to speak. Holy water certainly drives them out, but they come back again. The daily rosary drives them out and keeps them out. It is rather like living in an old house where there are mice everywhere. The only way to get rid of them is to bring cats. If you get a couple of cats, after a week or two there simply will not be any more mice. Mice fear the very smell of cats. And in a home where the rosary is said every day, after a time the demons realize they are impotent in front of Our Lady, and go elsewhere.

 

This must be one reason why, as they say, “the family that prays together stays together.” In that home, utterly free of evil spirits, there is an atmosphere one does not find outside. In a demon-infested city like London, where I live, such a home is an oasis of God’s grace, and people find a comfort and peace there which they enjoy greatly. We human beings are not meant to live in the company of demons, but with God and with the angels and saints in heaven.

 

So, as I see it, in this effort we are making to keep the faith and pass it on, the practice of the rosary is absolutely indispensable. Whatever else a person may do, even though they go to Mass every day, they still need to say the rosary in their home. It is the medicine our Mother has told us to take, to keep our faith strong and healthy.

 

From: https://www.pamphletstoinspire.com/

 

Sound Cloud

https://soundcloud.com/pamphlets-to-inspire/joyful-mysteries-of-the-rosaries-with-meditations-by-st-padre-pio

 

Prayer to Saint Joseph for the Month of October

https://twishort.com/D1Bnc

 

Blog Post - October 6th

https://www.pamphletstoinspire.com/blog-page

 

There's Something Happening Here

 

“For What It’s Worth” is one of the most widely known protest songs of the 1960s. Recorded by Buffalo Springfield as a single, it was eventually released in 1967 on their self-titled album. It has transcended its origin story to become one of pop’s most-covered protest songs – a sort of “We Shall Overcome” of its time, its references to police, guns and paranoia remaining continually relevant even to this day. 

Buffalo Springfield was the house band for LA’s famous Whiskey A Go Go Club during the time of the LA riots, which led Stephen Stills to pen the song.

“For What It’s Worth” was penned solely by Stills in response to the Sunset Strip curfew riots in Los Angeles in 1966. It all started in the mid-1960s when hippies and young people associated with rock and roll culture would frequently gather on the famous street in West Hollywood. The commercial merchants on Sunset Boulevard decided that the element of young people on the street every night was not conducive to commercial enterprise. When bunch of kids got together on a street corner and said we aren’t moving, the local government put in place curfew and anti-loitering laws to stop people from congregating at the behest of local businesses.

 

This tension between the free-spirited culture and local government came to a head in November and December 1966 when protesters clashed with police, particularly on the night of November 12 when a local radio station announced there would be a protest over the closing of Pandora’s Box, a popular nightclub for young people. Roughly 1,000 people showed up to protest. Three busloads of Los Angeles police showed up, who looked very much like storm troopers. 

 

According to reports, a fight broke out for reasons having nothing to do with the curfew; a car carrying a group of Marines was bumped by another vehicle. Egged on by that fight, the protesters (some of whom carried placards that read “We’re Your Children! Don’t Destroy Us”) trashed a city bus and threw bottles and rocks at storefronts. 

  

The LAPD instigated a 10 p.m. curfew for anyone under 18. 

 

 

The riot was really four different things intertwined, including the war and the absurdity of what was happening on the Strip. 

 

Despite having a reputation as being an anti-war song, as it was also written during the Vietnam War, Stills said that “For What It’s Worth” was mostly written in response to the Sunset Strip riots. 

 

“It was really four different things intertwined, including the war and the absurdity of what was happening on the Strip,” Stills explained in an archived interview, according to the Los Angeles Times. “But I knew I had to skedaddle and headed back to Topanga, where I wrote my song in about 15 minutes. For me, there was no riot. It was basically a cop dance. … Riot is a ridiculous name. It was a funeral for Pandora’s Box. But it looked like a revolution.” 

  

The beginning of the song is a study in understatement. An electric guitar plays two notes, slowly repeated, with tremolo. The drums set up a quiet pulse-like beat. An acoustic guitar enters, strumming two chords, then beginning a quiet riff that is a definition of laid-back L.A. funk. (Audio clip – 80K.) Finally Steve Stills’ voice enters, in a quiet, conversational tone. (Audio clip – 64K.) 

 

[Verse 1]
There's something happening here
But what it is ain't exactly clear
There's a man with a gun over there
A-telling me I got to beware

[Chorus]
I think it's time we stop
Children, what's that sound?
Everybody look what's going down

[Verse 2]
There's battle lines being drawn
And nobody's right if everybody's wrong
Young people speaking their minds
Are gettin' so much resistance from behind

[Chorus]
It's time we stop
Hey, what's that sound?
Everybody look what's going down

[Verse 3]
What a field day for the heat 
A thousand people in the street 
Singing songs and a-carryin' signs 
Mostly say, "Hooray for our side" 

[Chorus]
It's time we stopped
Hey, what's that sound?
Everybody look what's going down

[Verse 4]
Paranoia strikes deep
Into your life, it will creep
It starts when you're always afraid
Step out of line, the man come and take you away

[Chorus]
We better stop
Hey, what's that sound?
Everybody look what's going
We better stop
Hey, what's that sound?
Everybody look what's going
We better stop
Now, what's that sound?
Everybody look what's going
We better stop
Children, what's that sound?
Everybody look what's going down

While watching the new today, this song from my past came to mind and has not left. Once again we have riots in LA, and beginning to start in other cities. We have battle lines being drawn between Trump supporters and Trump non-supporters; Republicans and Democrats; those who want peace and those who want to take peace. When will we learn that nobody's right if everybody's wrong?

We teach our young people to "speak their mind" but we forget to teach them to consider those around them before they speak. Our "freedom of speech" does not give us the right to trespass, steal or destroy other people's property. Our "freedom of speech" does not give us the right to bully or demean any other human.  

Nearly 50 years later, and in very different times, we still haven't learned from our mistakes of the 1960s.  

 

 

 

USS Oriskany: First & Last Thoughts

Time is cruel to the body, but the memories will never fade. I will forever be 20, standing on the flight deck of the USS Oriskany - CVA34, watching the sun set over a calm sea. The smell of salt in the air, its taste in my mouth and the feel of hard steel beneath my feet and an eager anticipation in my hart looking out across the sea to my newest adventure. With the coming of the next morning's horizon and the dawn of each passing day I lived like it was a given that I would be there to see it through with each rising sun. 

Now I lay my head down each night in anticipation of the next adventure that my dream will create from the gallant stories of that young man. For my body can no longer sail the seas, but my heart and mind will forever be aboard the rolling deck of a ship of war headed for the battle line.

I was stationed at Naval Schools Command, Treasure Island. That's a small flat island in the middle of San Francisco Bay. It was my first duty station. I was maintaining electronic test equipment for an Electronic Technician "A" school on the island. I just received my new orders. Sea Duty aboard the USS Oriskany CVA 34. I had never heard of Her so, I started asking others on the island if they knew anything about this ship. The "CVA" told me that she was an attack carrier of some kind but no one I talked to had ever heard of this "Oriskany" thing.

The orders also stated that before reporting aboard I would spend a few weeks in a "C" school learning something called NTDS (Naval Tactical Data System) SRC-16 radio transmitter - receiver system (one of the Navy's first all digital data communications networks) at Mare Island Naval Shipyard, somewhere close to San Francisco.

When I got to Mare Island and started the school, I also started asking around if anyone knew anything about this "Oriskany" ship. I found one old instructor that knew about her. He broke out into a huge laugh when I mentioned I was going to the Oriskany. He asked me who I pissed off. He said she was the OLDEST THING AFLOAT! Her SRC-16 system was serial number XN1 #1. That meant it was experimental model number 1 and was nothing like the machine I learned in school. Well, at least I now knew something about this thing called "Oriskany."

On the 17th of April 1973, I stood at the head of a pier in Alameda California. On my port side stood the USS Enterprise. Pride of our Navy, Queen of the sea. She was all decked out to start her sea tour tomorrow. Today she stood tall sleek and shinny. A necklace of aircraft around her island, She looked like an Ensign standing inspection, not a scratch or bruise on her skin, nor wrinkle in her uniform, and not a hair out of place. So beautiful and "sexy" - A sailor's "dream boat". I could almost feel her tugging at me, whispering a beautiful sea chantey in my ear, trying to lure me away from my destination on the opposite side of the pier.

On the starboard side of the pier, stood the Old Bitch of the Sea - Oriskany. Just back from her sea tour yesterday. There she stood, Her uniform of grey: dirty, torn, wrinkled and tattered. Her skin scratched, bruised, covered in soot, salt and seagull crap. As I walked up her after-brow I could smell her sweat. Sweat from hundreds of miles in scorching sun and rough stormy seas, sweat from dozens of weeks at Yankee Station with flight ops sometimes going 24 hours a day. She was old, ugly and decrepit and she smelled of death.

At the head of her brow I stopped, turned and saluted her ensign. As I turned a 180, grabbed my packet of papers to hand to the Brow Watch, I thought: What the hell am I doing here? Did I piss off God? Why couldn't I be ridding that sleek young thing across the pier? The world knew her name and who's girl she was. Why am I, not even 20 years old yet, why do I have to ride this lonely Old Bitch of the Sea that no one knew, and from the looks of her, no one cared about?

On 14 June 1976, I stepped out on her flight deck for the last time. Slated for decommissioning instead of being cleaned up primed and painted, she was being stripped of all of her equipment. As I looked around I saw Her uniform of grey, still dirty, torn, wrinkled, tattered and Her skin scratched, bruised, covered in soot, salt and seagull crap from Her last Westpac. She was older and probably a bit uglier, but she wasn't the old bitch of the sea that I thought she would be. Once you got to know her she became a Fighting Lady. "The Mighty 'O' "is what we called her. A bitch to her enemy, but a Mighty Fighting Lady to her crew. She was the last of her kind, the last Essex Class Carrier, the last of the mighty fighting ships that took back the Pacific from the Japanese. From Alaska in the north to all the little islands that dot her south, the Essex Class Carriers fought and won the Pacific war. No, Oriskany wasn't the old bitch of the sea, She was the proud mother of the modern carrier, the first "SUPER CARRIER." Without the Essex Class Carriers like Oriskany, we would not have the sassy, sleek and sexy carriers of today.

As I walked down her after-brow for the last time, I walked slowly so that I could savor her sweet sweat from missions to Korea and Vietnam, all the flight-ops involved in those wars along with the storms and typhoons we weathered. Along with her sweat is the always welcoming aroma of Subic bay with just a hint of Olongapo bar-maid perfume mixed with the breeze off shit-river.

...Sorry, I just couldn't help a little Westpac reminiscing. 

"I can imagine no more rewarding a career. And any man who may be asked in this century what he did to make his life worthwhile, I think can respond with a good deal of pride and satisfaction, 'I served in the United States Navy'." - John F. Kennedy at the commissioning ceremony of the USS Oriskany in 1950 (my first ship).

ETN3 Harbit - Proud to say "I served on the USS Oriskany CVA 34"

       

 

 

January 28, 1973 in the South China Sea…The nuclear-powered attack aircraft carrier USS Enterprise (CVAN-65) (Center), the attack aircraft carriers USS America CV-66 (left of center) and USS Oriskany (CVA-34)(above & behind Enterprise), the escort ships USS Bronstein (DE-1037) and USS Fanning (DE-1076) and the destroyers USS Corry (DD-817), USS William C. Lawe (DD-763) and USS Cone (DD-866) cruise together in the multiple aircraft carrier force at the end of the hostilities with Vietnam." Photographer: SA Larry Hayes

 

As I grow older I realize the magic of "belonging" to some place or time. I was on the USS Oriskany CVA-34 for an incredibly short time considering the length of my life at the present moment (74 years) and I remember the day I came aboard and the day I saluted her ensign for the last time. I did not realize it but I was taking a part of her with me and leaving some of myself behind. I now realize that I will never truly leave her, nor will she ever leave me. She is in my makeup today. The things she taught me I have used through out my life. Of all my education, the 4 years aboard her was by far my greatest learning experience. 

She was decommissioned on 30 September 1976. The old girl was slowly torn apart but she did not whimper or cry, she realized she had stood her watch and it was her time to be relieved.

 

She did not die because she lives with in the 10's of thousand of sailors that have crossed her deck during her watch and to me she will always be "the Grand Old Lady ...... the Mighty 'O'. The last Essex Class ship made. The last Great Warrior of WWII. 

ETN3 Harbit OE division, May 1972 - July 1976.

For more information visit:

A Day in WestPac Aboard the Mighty Oriskany

 

America's Mighty Essex-Class Aircraft Carriers Were Almost Invincible

Oriskany (CV-34)

Wikipedia - USS Oriskany (CV-34)

Angels of the Oriskany - Fire, 26 October 1966

USS Oriskany CVA34 on YouTube 

A SAILOR'S WORST NIGHTMARE - A FIRE AT SEA!

 For more on the Oriskany Fire: 

 

How Fire and Fatigue Almost Destroyed an American Carrier

 

USS Oriskany fire

 

The USS ORISKANY (CVA-34) fire and munition explosions

Hell Afloat 

"Fire, fire, fire in frame 42 This is no drill! This is no drill."

 

Fire in Hanger Bay 1

 

"I can imagine no more rewarding a career. And any man who may be asked in this century what he did to make his life worthwhile, I think can respond with a good deal of pride and satisfaction, 'I served in the United States Navy'." - John F. Kennedy 

 

The Angel of Intramuros

Wars are started by rulers and politicians. Ordinary working men and women do the fighting and killing. It is also ordinary working men and women that do the dying, along with the poor and innocent children. There are no two sides to a war, there is only one because all of mankind suffers. Whether you willingly participate, are forced to participate or are just an innocent bystander, you suffer. Rulers and politicians do not understand that all of society will suffer when they start a war. 

Photo credit: John Tewell

 

 

 

 

 

Manila, 1945. The city burned as the Battle of Manila raged between American forces and the Japanese Imperial Army. Streets once filled with life had become graveyards of shattered homes, bloodied rubble, and the cries of the dying. It was in this chaos that Sergeant James Calloway, a U.S. soldier, stumbled upon a scene that would haunt him forever.

Through the smoke and ruin of Intramuros, he saw her—a young Filipina girl, barely a teenager, clutching a lifeless infant wrapped in a bloodstained cloth. She was barefoot, her dress tattered, her eyes hollow with grief. Calloway rushed to her, but she did not react. She simply stared ahead, as if she had already accepted death.

 

Gently, he lifted her into his arms. She did not resist, but her lips trembled. “Nanay… Tatay… nasaan sila?” she whispered in a weak voice. ("Mother… Father… where are they?")

 

A nun rushed past them, cradling another child, her face streaked with tears. The convent had been bombed, and the orphans she cared for were either missing or dead. The girl in Calloway’s arms had been one of them.

 

As he carried her through the wreckage, stepping over bodies and smoldering ruins, Calloway felt the weight of war crushing his soul. This wasn’t victory. This wasn’t liberation. This was tragedy.

 

Reaching a makeshift medical station, he laid the girl down. A medic checked her pulse and gave a solemn nod. She was alive, but barely. As Calloway turned to leave, she gripped his hand.

 

“Will you find them?” she asked.

 

He wanted to promise her, to tell her that her family would be waiting. But he had seen the massacre at Intramuros. He knew the answer.

 

Instead, he knelt beside her and whispered, “I’ll stay with you.”

 

She smiled weakly before her eyes fluttered shut.

 

Decades later, Calloway, now an old man, still remembered that moment—the war, the girl, the broken city. He never learned her name, but in his heart, she remained the Angel of Intramuros, a symbol of the innocence lost in war, and the reminder that some wounds never heal.

 

It is the same in all wars and armed conflicts, innocent people die; while the innocent young man turned soldier losses his innocence forever. The innocent of war die only once, the soldier who loses his innocence dies every day for the rest of his life.    

Family and Home (updated 5/16/25)

 Family

What does family mean to you? Take a minute to maybe write down your own definition of a family. If you compare your definition with others, I'm sure you will find both similarities and differences. For example, would your definition of family include:

1. A friend or neighbor who is not a blood or legal relative (maybe a close friend who lost their house and all their belongings in a storm)
   
2. An adopted or foster child
3. Children who were once step-siblings after the remarried couple divorces
4. A married couple (relative or close friend) without children
5. A relative or close friend who cannot live independently on their own
   
6. A sibling who married outside the family’s religious faith and/or race
   
7. A beloved family dog or cat
8. The spouse of a deceased relative or friend
   

You might be surprised to learn how others respond to these different family types. In fact, you might be surprised at how you respond. What would be your reasoning for including a particular family type or leaving them out? Defining who is and is not family is foundational to your identity, communication, and how you live your life. 

 

My personal definition of "family" includes all of the above. I would consider opening my home to a close friend or neighbor who might have lost their home to weather or fire related circumstances. An adopted or foster child that I have grown to love. Children who were once step-siblings and have no where else to turn (Lolly & I have one of those). A married couple with or without children who have lost everything and needs help. A person who cannot live independently on their own. I would not turn away a sibling who married outside my or the family’s religious faith or race. Inclusion of those who need help into my "family", whether or not they are "blood" relatives, is part of my belief, faith and trust in God. 

 

Rather than simply defining family by a dictionary definition, each individual should look to define a family by their own standards. You can have several families in your lifetime, even several families at once if you choose, such as your spouse's family, your "blood" family, work family or family of friends.  Regardless of how you define your family unit, whether traditional or unique, your definition is of the family unit that works for you. As the saying goes, "Family is what you make it." Whether made up of blood relatives, friends, pets, or a combination of these, your family can offer you the support you need to thrive.

Part of navigating life’s many challenges, finding and being welcomed as part of a family is one of our most central needs and a gift we can offer to others. We also take comfort in knowing there is no one way to be a family. This knowledge helps us understand and appreciate families in all their breadth and richness as they develop and change over the course of time. Rather than put up roadblocks, we all have an opportunity to benefit, learn from, and support families among our neighbors, community members, and among our own household and extended family. 

There is no perfect family, we do not have perfect parents, we do not marry a perfect person or we do not have perfect children. We sometimes complain about each other. We sometimes offend one another. We are sometimes disappointed with each other. Yes for so many reasons at various times we find it hard to get along with one another. For these reasons, there is no healthy marriage or healthy family without the exercise of forgiveness. Forgiveness is the medicine of family joy and happiness. Forgiveness is vital to our emotional health and spiritual survival. No matter the offense or who is the offender. Without forgiveness, the family becomes an arena of conflict and a fortress of evil. Without forgiveness, the family becomes sick and unhealthy.  Forgiveness is the healer of the soul, the purification of the spirit and the liberation of the heart. 

 

No sin is too big to be forgiven. He who does not forgive does not have peace in his soul  and can not have communion with God. Unforgiving is Evil and a poison that intoxicates and kills the one who refuses to forgive.  Keeping forgiveness  in your heart is a self-destructive gesture. Those who do not forgive are physically, emotionally and spiritually ill. 

 

The family must be a place of life and not a place of death; a place of forgiveness, a place of paradise and not a place of hell; A healing territory and not a disease; an internship of forgiveness and not guilt. Forgiveness brings joy where sorrow has brought sadness; of Healing where sorrow has caused  disease. 

 

A family is a place of support and not of gossip and slander of one another. It must be a place of welcome not a place of rejection. Shame to those who plant evil about others. The individuals who form a family are not enemies. When anyone in a family is going through a challenge they need support of others in that family.

Home

What images does your mind conjure up when you think of home? The house where you grew up? Family? Friends? A city or town? The house where you presently live? Or is home a state of mind?  

When I think of home I think of love. It is where I get love and give love, freely with no strings attached. Home to me, is not a “place” it is a collective group of personal attitudes and emotions from the people around me that accept me and my life as it is, with no apologies, no expectations and requiring no changes.

 

Home is a feeling of belonging, where my beliefs are not held against me; where my action or inaction are not judged; where my words are not manipulated or taken out of context. It's a place of peace and happiness and a reflection of my identity.  

 

Home is a place of caring and sharing. Caring that comes from the heart, based on God's love for us and our sharing of that love with those around us. Home is a place of caring and sharing with no expectations, judgements of past or present life experiences or restrictions.

My concept of home has been shaped by culture, both my wife's culture and mine, along with our families and experiences. Home is a place where I can reflect on the past, a place where I can talk about the present without fear of judgement, retribution or resentment and a place to dream about the future. Home is that little slice of paradise that is completely my own. Home is also something I am willing to share with those who try to understand me and my life without judgement or resentment. 

Home is a place where "love your neighbor" is a way of life, not just a commandment we say should be followed. I've grown to adopt a sharing way of life. It's closer to the path that Jesus took when he walked the earth. It has made me and the people around me more tolerant of each other and more joyful.   

My wife and I are under 2 Flags, from 2 Countries, of 2 Cultures, but of 1 Heart. Families should also be of one heart and that heart should be nurtured through love, respect for each other, caring for each other and sharing that love, respect and caring with all those we come in contact with. In my heart, mind and soul, family and home are both one and the same. Family is not people, Home is not a place; they are both feelings and emotions that are born out of respect, love and caring.  

My "Special" Home 

Most of the places I called "home" in my younger years have changed so much, I probably would not recognize them today and in many of those places, the memories have faded with the changes. When you move around a lot, a move tends to turn a former home into just a place you used to live. But there is one "home" that has resisted that change to being just a place, a home that although I miss it, I can never go back to. 

 

That's because it isn't a "place" its a feeling inside of me, a feeling from my soul. That "feeling" is made up of many different things. Its working my butt off for 3 or 4 days with no sleep, when I did sleep it was in my workspace or battle-station in a rickety old chair, kicked back on a workbench with my feet propped up on a stool; it's living on coffee and mid-rats for months at a time; Its bracing for incoming rounds; its standing inspection in the blazing heat on the flight-deck of a carrier; its underway replenishment working parties and 24 hour flight ops; its trying to make your way from one workspace to another during a cat 4 hurricane. Then just when I felt myself wilting to the deck from exhaustion, not caring about anything, a friend shoves a cup of coffee in my hand offers me a cigarette and tells me to take a break on the fantail. 

 

The fantail is a special place on a ship. Especially at night when the stars are out. Its quiet, so quiet you can hear the silence of the sea. The fantail is for thinking and dreaming, sometimes they are both the same. The fantail rejuvenates you like nothing else, after about 10 minutes I was always ready to jump into the chaos of the next catastrophe. 

Shipboard life is different from every thing else, it can't be explained, it can only be experienced and once experienced, it never leaves you. You hate it because of the endless work, hard and rough times but you also love it with a love that can not be explained. Again, it can only be felt. Sometimes I think that if I was asked, I'd go back but I know that would be wrong. At my age, I would not be able to keep up with the younger sailors, I would be a burden and I just could not do that to a shipmate. Nothing can compare with being on a warship headed for enemy lines. ... And you haven't lived until you've lived through a WestPac Liberty.

 

President John F. Kennedy at the commissioning ceremony of the USS Oriskany said:

"I can imagine no more rewarding a career. And any man who may be asked in this century what he did to make his life worthwhile, I think can respond with a good deal of pride and satisfaction, I served in the United States Navy."

I agree.

 

My Realization of Self and God (updated 3/3/25)

I never thought much of my spirituality and how it affected the people around me. Especially my family, relatives and friends. I always thought it was strictly between myself and God; at least that is what I was taught in a Baptist Church, that is: My belief in God was between me and God, it didn't involve anyone else. Growing up as a young boy no one ever called me a name, or degraded me in any way because of my "religion" or my "religious practices." I never had to defend myself against harsh religious comments. I can't say that we all "respected" each other's religion; Sixth grade and below, we didn't really understand things such as respect and religion; Seventh grade and above; guys were more interested in girls and cars and girls were more interested in guys and their cars. Religion wasn't one of the personal characteristics we were interested in. As an adult however, it seams to be just the opposite. Religion and the religious practices of a person are very important to that person's family. Sometimes a change in a person's religion or religious practices causes such an outrage in that person's family that the person becomes ostracized from his or her family. 

My beliefs and spiritual practices are the same as they were when I left home at the age of 18. The only difference is that I became a Catholic. I worship the same God today as I did when I was 18. But because I changed "religion," Words such as "idol worshiper" and "Mary worshiper" have been used by those who I hold in very high esteem. 

Nothing, could be further from the truth. Catholics do not worship idols. We worship the way Jesus did, through prayer and living life according to the law as set down in the 10 Commandments. The “Mass” began when early Christians gathered together in their homes to share a meal in memory of Jesus, as he had asked them to do on the night before he died (“The Last Supper”). There is no "obligation," we attend Mass because we love God. We Catholics get together to pray, read the Scriptures, and share the meal as it is written in Acts 2:42-47:

"They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer. Everyone was filled with awe at the many wonders and signs performed by the apostles. All the believers were together and had everything in common. They sold property and possessions to give to anyone who had need. Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people. And the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved." 

There is is nothing in the modern Mass that is not in the Holy Scriptures. There is nothing in the modern Mass that is used out of the context that it was used in the Holy Scriptures. 

The life values I have now, have been born out of war, predigest, destruction,  love, kindness and sharing. I respect everyone and their view of how I live and worship, even if I don't agree with their assessment. when I was very young, patience was one of the things I lacked and a temper was something I had in abundance. Today I have an abundance of patients and the strength and guidance from God to use it wisely against the temper I once had. So, bring on your judgements of me but also know that I leave judgement to God. I will continue to live the religious practices, traditions and spiritual mannerisms I have learned from the Catholic Church, prayer and research. I leave it to the Lord to defend His religious practices, traditions and spiritual mannerisms as they are lived out in my life. 

Is it wrong to sit down and gaze upon a picture of someone long past, say, a parent? Someone you might have loved very much, and yearn for them to come back? Is it wrong to look at that picture and talk to that person as if he or she was there with you and tell him or her how much you miss him or her? Is it wrong for you to believe the person in that picture is in Heaven looking after you? Is it wrong to ask the person in the picture for help and believe that he or she is praying with you to God for an answer? Is it wrong to go to the grave-site of someone you love and discuss a problem with them? Is it wrong to ask that loved one to help you pray or to pray with you to God?
 
Through the Catholic Church, it's architecture, art, history and philosophy; I have come to know and believe in two families; my earthly one, consisting of my parents, sisters, wife's family and my spiritual family, consisting of Jesus, Mary and Joseph. Pictures of my earthly family come from cameras, pictures of my spiritual family were made by the Masters. Both are made by humans.
 
The Rosary - nothing seems to say Catholic more than the Rosary. I've heard many say that it isn't found in the Bible. That's true, very true, the Rosary is in fact not found in any Christian Bible. But, the Bible is in fact in the Rosary. Again, artwork created for those who could not read or write. The Rosary contains the New Testament, from the birth of Jesus to his death, resurrection and beyond. I use it every day as an aid in prayer, it helps to "make the world around me go away", so that I can speak and listen more reverently and clearly to God. If non-Catholics would just listen to the words or read the Rosary, especially the last sentence of the "Hail Mary," they would know that we are not praying to Mary or anyone else, we are in-fact praying only to God.  
 
My commitment to God and to religion did not happen over night. It happened over many years of searching self and soul; searching the earthly world and the spiritual world; searching various religions, cultures and ways of life. I have called on St. Peter, St. Paul and a few other saints who were once as human as I am now, in just the same way I still call on my Dad and Mom who have both passed away for advice. Catholicism as I know it, is not a religion, it's a way of life. A way of life defined not by anything earthly, but by a God that is open to everyone, a God who is compassionate but demanding unquestioned faith and belief.  
 
My self and soul search goes on and will keep going on; the earthly world tries to pull me in one direction, the spiritual world tries to pull me in another direction. I put no boundaries between my worlds, I try my best not to judge anyone in either world. I do my best to leave judgement to God.
 
It doesn't matter what we label ourselves as, Protestant, Catholic, Jehovah Witness, Methodist, ... What matters, to God, is how we live. Do we follow Jesus and his disciples? Or do we judge each other on how we go about our daily lives, how we as individuals worship, or how we as individuals interpret individual passages in the Bible? Do we throw away the Bible and peck at each other over "our" individual interpretation of individual passages of a very large book?

God made us all different, maybe we should accept the differences and accept each other as brothers and sisters the way Jesus accepted his disciples and all those who believed and had faith in him. "Catholic" is only a label, how and what I believe and have faith in along with how I worship is my way of life. It is between me and God and wrong for me to judge others on their way of life and wrong for them to judge me on how I live my life.

Lastly, through my research, Catholicism teaches me that I should not only "love" all of humanity, but that I should also respect everyone's race, age, sex, career, culture, customs, traditions, character, religion and their points of view. Essentially, as a Catholic, I should respect every aspect of every person's life. "Catholic" means universal. It is OK to respectfully disagree with someone but not OK to disrespect them or any part of their being. 

So, bring on your criticisms of how I live my life. I'll just pass them on to the Lord and let Him deal with them.

Opposits Do Attract!

 

We met just after my 35th birthday, This year (2021) November 15 will be our 35th wedding anniversary. That means I have known Lolly for 1/2 my life (I just turned 70). 

Every once in a while I get philosophical and look back on my life. I'm not looking for anything special, I just want to make sure that I'm going forward in the right direction, making the right choices. I have made many mistakes in my life, especially when I was younger. It seems that I learn more about life from my mistakes than from academics. I always pray that the lord will help me spot them and show me what I can learn from them. ... One thing that was not a mistake was stepping out one morning and buying a newspaper.  

We were complete opposites. We were born and raised on opposite sides of the planet. Different cultures, environments, societies, ways of life. There wasn't one common thread between us. 

The first thing I remember Lolita doing was, she made the sign of the cross. Not the habitual gesture that I see many Catholics make, Hers was a prayer. The ugliness of war and the society I came home to had all but erased any memory I had of God, religion and church. It wasn't that God didn't exist, He existed, but I felt he just wasn't paying attention to me. I tried to quell the memories of a war that no one wanted and blamed on me, with alcohol for almost 10 years.

She was very well educated, she just received a Doctorate degree in education. I just barely made it out of high school, and I HATED school. She was very organized and meticulous, I was very unorganized and messy. 

Although we were opposites, I felt comfortable sitting across a table from her in a restaurant and walking around all the tourist spots in San Diego with her. Much later I felt more comfortable sitting next to her at Mass than I did sitting alone in a Protestant church. 

As I learned about Lolita, I also learned about myself. I had become very different than I was at age 18, and now because of Lolita, was becoming very different than when I was at 30. 

When I graduated from High School I enlisted in the Navy. The Navy turned me into an adult, the war ripped my soul from me. I was lost to God and lost to the world around me...Well, to everyone and everything except Lolita.

Unknowingly at that time, I was learning from Lolita. Through the way she lived her life I was learning what Jesus meant when he talked of "love." A lot of things go into love. Acceptance, respect and caring are all a part of the Love that Jesus talked about. Lolita and I were very different, from birth! But we accepted our differences and respected them, whether we agreed or disagreed with it, we accepted and respected each other's lives - totally. From acceptance and respect comes caring. I was beginning to feel Lolly caring for me (she was the ONLY woman...person to ever get me to go to a Dentist...TWICE!!!!). Being a part of Lolly's life, watching how she handles the good and the bad stuff of daily life helped me to gain my soul back. 

Today I thank God for every day I have with Lolly and I thank Lolly for all she has done for me.