Hi family, friends, and loved ones!

I cannot believe it's been 101 days since Pally took her last breath. I still remember that day so vividly. And I want to continue writing that day out before it slips from memory.

SoOOoo continuing from my previous update...

After we watched that Pacifica drive away around 11:20ish, we went inside to get ready to leave for church. By 12:00, we were at our parish, where we are every weekend, except this time, we weren't sitting in the wheelchair friendly pew. We sit in the middle of a regular pew, a place we could never sit before because it isn't accessible for Pally. I hold onto my large tissue box, prepared for waterworks. 

I realize it is Father Eva celebrating. Fr. Eva was the priest who came to our children's hospital to give Paloma the sacrament of the anointing of the sick when she was at her worst in July. Clearly, I am emotional as I anticipate Mass about to start, with Paloma passing just 4 hours prior. Then before Fr. Eva officially begins, he announces to the congregration, "A parishioner of ours has just passed this morning. Her name was Paloma Gonzales and we offer the celebration of this Mass for her." In this moment, I absolutely lose control and I try to hold myself together as I wipe the tears flowing like a river out of my eyes. 

Mass goes on. First reading done. It's time for the second reading which is Hebrews 11:1-2, 8-19.

"Brothers and sisters:
Faith is the realization of what is hoped for
and evidence of things not seen.
Because of it the ancients were well attested.

...By faith Abraham obeyed when he was called to go out to a place
that he was to receive as an inheritance;
he went out, not knowing where he was to go.
By faith he sojourned in the promised land as in a foreign country,
dwelling in tents with Isaac and Jacob, heirs of the same promise;
for he was looking forward to the city with foundations,
whose architect and maker is God.

...All these died in faith.
They did not receive what had been promised
but saw it and greeted it from afar
and acknowledged themselves to be strangers and aliens on earth,
for those who speak thus show that they are seeking a homeland.
If they had been thinking of the land from which they had come,
they would have had opportunity to return.
But now they desire a better homeland, a heavenly one.
Therefore, God is not ashamed to be called their God,
for he has prepared a city for them."

As I read along with the lector, I feel like this reading is for ME. "I'm Abraham?!" was one of my thoughts. I had no clue what I was doing as a mother of a child with a rare disease. It was so foreign to me. But I had faith in the path that was laid before me, walking alongside Alan and other rare disease parents. And I embraced the unknown and whatever God had waiting for us, wholeheartedly. And now it was time for Paloma to return to her heavenly homeland. As much as I did not want to lose her, I knew it was time.

God prepared a place for her and she was already there. 🤯

Liturgy of the Eucharist begins. We go on to say peace with each other, and then we individually whisper "Peace be with you, Pally."

It's now time for Communion. (As a Catholic, I believe we are united with all the saints and angels, every time we celebrate the Eucharist at Mass). The pianist starts playing a familiar tune, the same song we (mostly Alan) sings to all the kids as they're tucked in at night. "Sacred Silence" has taken a different meaning now that Pally is in Heaven.

I am a mess as I walk up to receive, listening to the cantor sing,

"Sacred silence, holy ocean

"I love you Pally. Mama misses you so much" is what I say in my head over and over again. To lose Paloma in our home in the morning, and then to be reunited with her spiritually a few hours later, is absolutely beautiful- heartbreakingly so.

After receiving, I go to the bathroom to put myself together again and head back to the pew.

Mass is over. We gather in the narthex and our priests give us a warm embrace, giving their condolences. We get into our van and head home to an empty, cold medical bed in our living room that was warm a few hours ago.

to be continued...