Happy Mother's Day to all who remember their mothers
St Augustine - Confessions 9.12:
Gently I closed my mother's eyes. An immeasurable sorrow flowed up into my heart and would have
overflowed in tears. But my eyes, under the mind's strong constraint, held back their flow. As my mother breathed her last, the child Adeodatus broke out into lamentations. We checked him and brought him to silence
(Adeodatus was St. Augustine's son)
One of my favourite images of our Blessed Mother is the image of "The Patron Saint of Street Children" aka Our Lady of Poverty.
|Our Lady of the streets - oil on linen by Helen Tilston -painting is still wet, thus the shine|
My mother Kathlen Bohannon Glynn died April 24, 1998. She was fun loving, joyful, a brilliant mind, who loved all her 7 children and my father Peter Glynn. She taught us all she knew and what she did not know she quickly found teachers and mentors for us. She baked bread like no one else can.
She did not sweat the little stuff. She had common sense and a heart full of love. Two beautiful memories of her are. It infrequently snows in Ireland and rarely does the snow stay. I recall her waking all 7 of us children at 2.00 a.m. on a winter's night to tell us to quickly get up, get dressed and come on outside as there was snow. We threw snowballs in the moonlight until day break.
Another time, she told my sister Maura and I that we could have the next day off school and she was taking us to Dublin. What a day we had, lunch at Woolworth's self serve counter. Shopping on Moore Street, walking up Grafton Street, finished off by tea at Bewley's Cafe.
|This image reminds me of my mother singing a lullaby in Gaelic to my baby brother Thomas Glynn||.|