Lord of All Hopefulness

May 30, 2012

My uncle picked an Irish hymn for his Jubilee Mass, and as I listened in the front row, I sobbed, nearly uncontrollably. My then-husband patted my knee, unsure of the emotion’s source–and I could not explain it to him.

“It’s old music,” said my cousin, some time later, when we spoke of this. “It touches something ancient and deep.”

I hear that hymn now, in my uncle’s cavernous absence.

Be there at our sleeping, and give us, we pray
your love in our hearts, Lord, at the end of the day.

I understand the tears, this time.


  1. Beautiful, Eugenia.

  2. Thanks, Rosie.

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