Thoughts from an Eight Hour Car Ride

     On Monday, two friends and I made the journey up from the nation's capital back to Buffalo in a car packed with what were the contents of my dorm for the past 9 months. They had come down on Friday for few days of the sightseeing and delicious food that Washington is so uniquely capable of offering.

     Somewhere around the Maryland-Pennsylvania border, the conversation in the vehicle died down and I began to really think about heading back home for an extended period of time- almost exactly three months- until I leave for Costa Rica. I, like many college students, miss home when I'm not there for a couple months. Then, around the third day back in my house, I find myself counting down the days for my departure.

My friend Phil and I after lunch at a
Washington institution: Ben's Chili Bowl

     I've been both looking forward and dreading summer back home for several months now. On the one hand, summer provides an opportunity to see my old friends on a more frequent basis and get away from the annoyances of college life- especially in such an egotistical and superficial city as D.C. Summer is also a chance to spend more time with my mom and Grandpa in our house we share.

     At the same time, my family relies a great deal on me when I am home. Since neither of them drive, I take them to all their appointments, to do their shopping, and anything else that comes up. This summer is the first for my grandpa without his car, and that loss of personal freedom has taken a toll on him. He's very resentful of the decision the family has made, and that negative energy is released most directly on my mother, who is his primary caregiver. It's difficult to see my mom struggle with the responsibility of caring for the man who cared for her for so many years, especially when it seems nobody, including him, really appreciates just how much she does. All of this familial stress makes it harder for me to control my quick temper as I get worn down. I find myself snapping and being rude at home far more than I ever am in Washington.

     Another problem I have with being home and away from my GW Catholic community is the lack of familiar structure that I have grown used to this year. I still try to make it to daily Mass at my home parish, but I find the service less enjoyable without familiar faces and normal procedures. At today's Mass, the priest celebrated with no alb or chasuble, just a stole over his black shirt!

     Despite my hesitations about this summer, I have great peace and comfort that this is going to be a terrific three months. The fears I have are simply challenges that I need to overcome to become a more loving family member. How honored I ought to be that God has found me capable enough to handle what he puts before me! As the expression goes, the Will of God will never take you where the Grace of God cannot protect you. And while the differences from the Archdiocese in Washington to this diocese will take some re-acclimatimation on my part, I believe it will help me to grow even more in my love for Christ. As annoyed as I was at Mass today, I remembered during the Consecration that no matter what ancillary things are amiss, it is still Jesus offering himself as a sacrifice for my salvation on the altar. And with that knowledge, I shall say like the psalmist David: The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom (or what) should I fear? (Ps 27:1)