I Remember…

Some of the prompts I’ve had in “Writing Your Grief” have been challenging. This one was to pick a simple object and let your mind run with it. The first problem was picking an article. There were suggestions, but none of them resonated with me. For several days, I would look at the prompt, then write about one I hadn’t completed. Finally, this morning, I woke up and realized I knew what I wanted to write about, rosary beads.

I remember rosary beads. Growing up Catholic, they were always around our house. However, it was only this last year that I learned that my parents would say the rosary after every date. One time they came home from a date, and my mom went to ask one of her roommates if she would like to join them. My dad learned this year that the roommate pretended to be asleep so she wouldn’t have to get up and pray.

There were always rosaries on my parents’ nightstand, along with prayer cards. Most of the beads were simple. They provided comfort to my parents in times of trial. They were especially important to my dad after my mom died. He only slept in their bed once after my mom died, and that was because my sister had gotten him in bed after a long night in the ER. Otherwise, he slept in the recliner. He was surrounded by photos of mom from when she was younger, their wedding photo, and a portrait of the two of them. He always had two or three rosaries nearby that he would pray daily. Then, as he neared death and would grow agitated, we would place the rosary in his hands or say the Hail Mary or Our Father. It would help to calm him down.

It made me think about how most religions have prayer beads. Mike practiced Buddhism for a while. I still have the mala bead bracelet in my drawer. The thing that these prayer beads all seem to have in common is that they bring peace and comfort to the person who is using them.

I’m grateful that the rosary beads gave my parents a sense of peace when they were struggling, especially at the end of their lives.