Living Prayer
By Niall Twohig
Dearest Aislynn,
I took you to mass on a whim yesterday. As you played on the pew, I was reminded of times when I played at Da’s feet at Church. I would look up from my toys to see him deep in prayer, that troubled crevice on his brow deepening.
I saw him clearly in my mind’s eye, his whole being directed at the cross.
It’s difficult to explain what happened next. It’s not that I wondered if that Da was praying for me in this future he would never see. It was more an overwhelming feeling of certainty. I felt Da’s living prayers coming to me from the past. I knew he was praying for me, for my protection in this future his body would not reach. That feeling brought tears.
Da’s prayers reached me at the right time. Lately I have been overcome by fear. I am terrified of a time when your mom and I will not be there for you. The depths of love we share has brought me to a deeper fear of dying. I feel that fear calcifying in my brow, down through my jaw, into my neck and shoulder. The same areas that pained Da.
But yesterday the prayers softened me. Following Da’s lead, I prayed for a future you that I will not be physically there to see, to hold, to protect. I hope you will feel those prayers reaching you just as I felt Da’s prayers reaching me.
After Church you and I walked to the park. I asked you, “Who did you pray for today?” You responded, “Grandad and Lola Linda… because they are in a place where they were before they were born.”
Children are natural mystics.
