- On Friday morning, I went to the Morning Service here at the Bukoba Kolping Hotel, which is run by the Roman Catholic Church. Services are held at 8am on Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and Sundays. Since Erin and I had to leave early Wednesday morning for a daytrip to Nyakahanga, I could not go before Mom’s one year anniversary on Thursday, leaving Friday as the best option.
- The service had elements with which I was familiar having attended some Methodist services back in the States and part of a Catholic service with Preeti. A few of the prayers I could recite from memory and there were a few portions of the service that I had seen before such as Passing of the Peace and Communion. On the whole though, it was a pretty different structure. We started out by reading a variety of morning prayers in English and then the Priest came in and gave a bit of a sermon in Swahili. It seemed like there may have been a Priest in training because two men stood up at the podium, one older and the other much younger. Then there was a period with which I was unfamiliar where the members of the church sang hymns from memory while one by one they went up to the front or to a side room for Confession (I found out later that this was a special service for Lent, not part of the usual routine). This went on for at least 7 songs, maybe more, so about a half an hour to 45 minutes. By and large, they were uplifting sounding songs with absolutely beautiful harmonies. I was really impressed because there must have been at least 3 parts to most songs and everyone sang without any hymnals. After that, there was Communion followed by another reading or sermon from the Priests. Somewhere in there was Passing of the Peace, where I shook the hands of people around me and said “Shalom!”
- The whole service lasted nearly two hours, which I was not used to, since most services I’ve attended have been an hour. I felt a bit antsy at the one hour point, but then I decided to welcome the time, because it just gave me that much more time to sit and reflect. Not being Catholic, I was not about to go up for Confession myself, and so I thought the best use of that time would be to try and remember about all the good times and the bad; at some point it just became overwhelming. My tears really started to fall; I couldn’t hold them back and then I didn’t want to hold them back. In part, it was running through the memories that brought up tears. The knowledge that there would be no more new memories was tough to face even as I have had a year to come to terms with that idea. At the same time, I felt like there were so many moments that I had forgotten about or could only vaguely remember and that too made me sad – that memories were fading. Then I felt like I should try and remember more things, to bring them up to the forefront of my mind, so that next time I sat and tried to remember, they would still be in my repository of memories. After the tears, which came in a few spurts, I actually felt relieved and at a certain peace with the world that is difficult to describe. I suppose tears in of themselves are cathartic. I was thankful for all the many good memories that we did share, some of which made me even want to smile and giggle a little by the end of my reflections. I miss Mom deeply, some times more than other times, but I know usually when I miss her I hold back my feelings in order to maintain composure and move on with my days and life in a way that she would have wanted and that is most useful to me, so this was a good time for me to just sit and let emotions pass through me… and then I felt better. I feel better.
- I am glad that on Friday, through this service offered at Kolping, I was both able to honor and remember my mother and also take care of myself at the same time. I think she would have been pleased. ☺
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