Over and under...

I went to see my aunt again yesterday. She was a lot stronger, had more energy. I think it was because she had so many visitors, she felt like she had to rise up to the challenge of entertaining.

My auntie Rene and uncle Helmut were there, the family doctor/friend, Doc Jombee, and various others.

I didn't get to talk to her at all, so I spent most of my time there dozing on the couch or reading a copy of Thousand and One Nights that I brought with me. I've read the popular stories (who hasn't?) but I haven't read the classic, so I thought it was a good idea to finally crack a book and see the stories that were not Aladdin. Besides, those must have been some stories to keep the King up for 1,001 nights.

Not to mention get him to marry her for good.

Halfway through Jombee dropped by and we had a chat about fishes, my hamstring problems, and scripts. I asked him if I could interview him because a film about doctors is always a good thing. It's mainstream enough.

At the end of the day a priest dropped by and we--with the exception of Jombee--had to turn our cellphones off in preparation of the private mass. It isn't the first private mass held there (we've had more than our share) but it's the first time that i'd met Father Jim.

At first I was reluctant to go to mass. I haven't been to since the Holy Week. I don't know why i've stopped observing the traditions. Maybe it's because I still have a lot to sort out with myself. Or maybe because I just don't know how to start my way back.

So yesterday's surprise mass too me...well, by surprise.

Father Jim was an Irishman. An old Irish missionary with a soft voice, gentle sermons, and a prediclection to underfeed his goldfishes. His sermon was even perfect for a prodigal daughter like me (won't go into details on WHAT)

I thought it was just cool of God to send me an Irishman on the day that I was contemplating on going back.