@dudeville@VinylOffers Thanks, purchased. Just like that, another knock at the door from the postman and an awkward laugh to my wife as I squeeze another LP into the Kallax
His date of birth is 17 Dec 2005. Please retweet this. If you know him, please tell him to remain anonymous. He just needs to contact DKMS, even if it’s to say ‘no’. That would give us closure.
@AvantiWestCoast your team have been great and advised me to get on this service at Motherwell. Can you just tell me what time? It was the 133 service from GLC so what time will it now leave from Motherwell?
@AvantiWestCoast I'm booked on 1333 GLC to Euston. It was never scheduled to stop at Motherwell. Can you advise what I should do to pick up this service?
@SohrabAhmari I'm from Glasgow and a group of us travel down to London every year for an NFL game. We always do a nice big walk on the Saturday (to keep us out the pubs for a few hours). This is my favourite walk, we combine it with a canal walk
Please pray for the eternal rest of my mother, Eleanor Spano Martin, who died today at 94 in Abington, Pa. She had only recently developed pneumonia which quickly led to her death this afternoon. I can’t express in words what my sister and I are feeling, how grateful I am to God for her long life, how sad the last few days have been, how devastating it was to see her gasp for air this morning and how moving it was to see the hospice nurse rub her lips with a sponge, which made me cry when I thought about Jesus on the Cross.
Today I want to thank my sister Carolyn for being my mom’s selfless and primary caregiver, especially after she was diagnosed with thyroid cancer and then dementia; for Charles for being a wonderful son in law and for Charles and Matthew for being beloved grandsons.
A few days ago, I was terrified I would be stuck in California because of the blizzard, and I called my mom to tell her how I would do everything to get home and she said, through her oxygen mask, “Goody gumdrops.” I thank God I got home early this morning, that a kind Jesuit plowed the car out for me yesterday so that I could drive from New York to Philly at 2 AM, pray the Rosary next to her bed (“now and at the hour of our death”), anoint her with Lourdes water and, most of all, tried to thank her for everything she had done for me: from giving me life, to driving me to school, to teaching me to draw, to baking birthday cakes, to cooking dinners, to encouraging me in my studies, to dealing with the shock of my Jesuit vocation, to being friends with all my friends, to being the biggest fan of anything I wrote or said or did. She wasn’t perfect but she was my mom in every way.
The other day the First Reading was how God’s word goes out, does its work and returns to God. I kept thinking about my mom when we read it during a Mass at a friend’s house in California, especially since I was desperate to get home. Today, I kept looking at her frail body that had been through so much in the last few years—cancer, dementia, frequent falls, stitches—and saw how spent it was after it had done what God had asked it to do
Nothing I could write could describe my unbelievable sadness or my deep gratitude at being with her in her last moments, as she was with me in my first moments. It would take dozens of books.
Mom, I wish you sky-blue-pink days with your beloved mother and father, your brothers Larry and Louis, my dad, and all those who loved and knew you. Please pray for me and Carolyn. Saying goodbye to you today, and hugging you goodbye, was almost impossible, but I know we will see each other in the fullness of time. Love you, Mom.