Sunflowers and Sisters

"Never say goodbye because
saying goodbye means going away
and going away means forgetting."
- J.M. Barrie

One of my favorite pictures with this lovely lady.
Circa. Summer 2011

      I was mid-conversation with a friend when the phone started beeping telling me there was another call waiting for me to answer. When I saw the name, I immediately cut my friend off and said, "I'll call you back. This is important." I could barely contain my excitement when I heard her voice on the other end. "Hi Sister..." Before I knew it, I was jumping in the car and racing to see her at the Mount. 

     It had been months since I'd seen her last. In fact, as part of our hellos, we were trying to figure out how long. "Well, you were in Chicago for vows," she said. But then I responded, "But I saw you for a few minutes when I stopped over in Chicago before going to Minnesota." We laughed and agreed. Yes, the last time we had seen each other was in passing for only a few minutes. It was enough for a hug before I was off and running to the next state. Yes, it had been months, yet, it seemed as if it was only yesterday we had had our last conversation. It was so easy to pick right back up where we left off the months before. 

     Usually, I write an exact recent moment in my life but today, I'm going to write a piece of my past and a piece of my discernment story. After our brief hour together yesterday, I decided that I would (sleep in and) join Sister for Mass before she headed back "home." She mentioned that she would be leaving right after Mass and I told her that spending time with her in Mass was just as good if not better than talking for an hour. She agreed and so, this morning, I found myself in an all too familiar setting. Together we prayed and celebrated Mass; it was beautiful. As I was leaving, she mentioned that we've been close for a very long time. That's when I said, "This September, it will be eight years since we met." Both of us let that sink in for a few seconds and I hugged her again. Even though I know I'll see her again soon enough (perhaps in a few months), it's always hard to say goodbye to the woman that has been one of the most influential people in my life. 

     Sister David was the first Sister I ever had as a teacher. I grew up with the Sisters of the Blessed Sacrament, so I knew nuns, but I never had one as a teacher. We took semesterly Theology classes so I didn't have Sister David until January but I knew who she was and was secretly in awe of her. I couldn't wait to have her in class. When I finally did get to have her in class, I noticed her all around joy. She was always happy, go-lucky, it seemed and there was something about her that I just wanted to share. I remember studying Old Testament Theology with her, I remember her singing with us, I remember her bouncing around the classroom, super excited for the day. I had her 8th period and I remember trying to think of questions to ask her after class just so I could talk with her (I'm such a nerd, still...) One question I asked her in particular was about what I was doing for Lent. I asked her, "Sister, my boyfriend and I are going to be reading the Bible for Lent. Is there any place we should start?" I think part of her was a bit crushed that I had a boyfriend, but she was happy that we would be reading the Bible. To be honest, I don't remember what she answered. At the end of the year, I hung back after class and asked her to sign my yearbook. I hugged her good-bye for the Summer and left the classroom thinking, next year I must get to know her better. 

      Over the summer between Freshmen and Sophomore years, I broke up with my boyfriend and thought it was really time to focus on what God might be calling me to do with my life. (Long story short, I had been talking with my boyfriend about the possibility of being a sister....yeah....he didn't like that very much). Fast forward to maybe early October of my Sophomore year. I spent the night writing and re-writing a letter to Sister David before I finally conjured up the right words. I begged my best friend the next morning to go with me to her office (she was the disciplinarian, you see) so that I could drop the letter off. Lucky for me, she wasn't in her office. So, I dropped it on her desk and BOLTED out of there. I was praying and hoping that she would read it and NEVER SAY ANYTHING TO ME ABOUT IT EVER. But alas, as I was headed into my French class, there she was, waiting for me. "How about you stop by my office tomorrow after school?" Oh no. She read my letter. NOW she wanted to talk about it? I hesitated but something deep down inside forced me to say okay. Yes, little sophomoric me agreed to chat with Sister about my letter. 

       The next day, I found myself down in her office. It was a Wednesday (because that's the day she did detentions) and a dress-down day. We sat in her office for at least an hour and a half as she addressed every single thing I wrote in my letter. You see, my letter was all about how I felt that I was being called to religious life. I told her that I was scared and nervous about saying anything. I didn't know what it meant, I had not a clue what to do about it. She sat next to me and assured me that it was totally okay to be feeling called to religious life. She told me that Sisters are just as human as every other human being. But the most important thing that she told me was that she would be right next to me the entire journey. She would be praying for and with me. I didn't know how true her words were then. But almost eight years later, she's still journeying with me. 

     The rest of my high school career, Sister David became a mentor. She mentored me in everything from my discernment to making college decisions to even research topics for Senior Research Paper. So many of the Sisters at Nazareth influenced me greatly in my four years there but she was the one who listened to my every nun-related fear. I knew come graduation, it was going to be difficult to say good-bye to her. God, however, had different plans. Because today, years after my graduation, I got to laugh with her as if she was my long lost best friend. 

     Sister David never once ceased writing to me when I was at college. Every so often, I would get a letter in the mailbox from her. She loved to write little cards with little messages to people (I even got one this morning). And I, of course, always loved to receive them. When I was home for break, we somehow always managed to meet up. Often, we would go for a walk around school or even her humble abode, just to catch up with one another. She has a memory like an elephant, by the way; she remembered almost everything I ever wrote to her about when I was at college. Of course, last summer she got transferred...not just to a different convent, or to a different state BUT TO A WHOLE OTHER PART OF THE COUNTRY. Needless to say, I thought the world was ending. How was I going to live without my best friend? 

     But here we are a year later, and I've seen her quite a bit. Every so often, we call on the phone and it's like there hasn't been a month's lapse of time between the last time we spoke and that moment. She still writes to me often...in fact, more often than ever before. I'm always getting cards in the mail from her and I'm always sending something in response. She'll be getting one soon enough from me. Seeing her these past two days, even if it only was for a little bit, was a God moment for me. She has taught me so much in her witness of religious life. She has shown me gentleness and kindness. She has shown me tears and faith and love, incredible love for every person she has ever met. But probably the most important thing she ever taught me from day was is that if I wholly and totally depend on God, He will always take care of me.

      As we were saying good-bye today, I tried to hold back tears. Yeah, I know, I'm a big baby, but she's been journeying with me for the past eight years and it's been a very crazy journey. She's listened to my pains, my fears, my hesitations. She's wiped away countless tears (she always has a tissue in her pocket, just in case) and has been a caring shoulder to cry on. Of course, she's also shared many laughs, smiles and good times with me. I laugh so much with her; she is joy. We laughed as we hugged goodbye one more time. I didn't want her to go, but another thing she has taught me is that one must make their home wherever God sends her. Go with God and nothing will go wrong. She told me to listen to my heart. I called her Grandmother Willow. 

     Sister David, a constant companion, mentor and friend, has stood by me on my crazy journey. We shared so much in the little hour that we had together yesterday, just as if it hadn't been months since our last visit together. She's amazing. I secretly think she might be an angel. And she has been such a key player in my discernment story. One of the last things she said this morning was that no matter where I go, it's between me and God and I can't let anyone else influence that decision. No matter where I go, she will always continue journeying with me as my Sister in prayer. I smiled as I walked away and said, "Self. Do not cry. Your mascara will run and you'll look like a fool." So instead, I smiled and already started looking forward to the next time I'll see this beautiful woman of God. Maybe I'll take a road trip soon. As I thought of all my blessings in simply seeing her and praying with her, I couldn't help but remember that in the Chapel, there right in front of the altar, were sunflowers. 

What's In A Name? - Convent Nicknames

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would still smell as sweet?"

- Juliet Capulet, Romeo and Juliet, Shakespeare

     If you've been following my blog, you know at least one thing about me: I LOVE LITERATURE! And I love applying it to my daily life. So, "What's in a name, that which we call Becca by any other name, she'd still be as sweet?" Yep.

     Last night I was talking to one of my best friends about Shakespeare and Nuns. I completely out-nerded myself with the Shakespeare part.You see, her school is putting on The Tempest and right away I started quoting Shakespeare just to drive her crazy. Sorry, I really can't help myself when it comes to him; he's just so wonderful. Eventually I quoted the above quotation from Romeo and Juliet (one of my absolute FAVORITE lines of literature ever) and realized how applicable it has become in my life recently. Of course, I began to tell her about all the names the sisters have for me and then proclaiming that I hope I'm as cute as they are when I grow up and become a nun. I believe the actual wording was: "I hope I'm as preshfest as they are when I grow up and become a nun."

     So, what are my nicknames you ask? Well, there's quite a few of them. In alphabetical order, they are: AE, Baby G, Becca Boo, Little Sis, Sister, Smiles and Sunflower among many more. AE - Alter Ego. Ironically, I share so many personality traits with one of my closest sisters that we have become interchangeable at times. We tend to be able to finish each other's creative thoughts and most definitely thrive off each other's creativity. When you put us together, it's a true tag team. So, she is my alter ego and thus, I am hers. 

     Baby G, which is kind of one I made up for myself as a joke but has kind of stuck. I have many "mom" figures among the sisters. They are always looking out for me, making sure I'm doing ok, being main means of support, and thus, jokingly they call me the baby, the child or Baby G. It works. 

     Becca Boo, which is a name surfaced from my past, has begun to stick again! And I can't complain! It sort of just rolls off the tongue as a cute little name. Try it: Becca Boo! Sometimes, it's shortened to just boo. Dear God, I actually hope that sister doesn't call me Sister Boo someday...the poor kids might get scared! But anyway, Becca Boo, or just Boo, it's a name only one specific sister calls me and it's pretty precious. She shares her ice cream with me!

     Little Sis and Sister. This is a name that has been adopted by so many sisters. I've discerned for so long that in some convents, it's like I'm more or less already part of the family minus the habit and years of experience. Whenever I'm with these sisters and we are meeting new people or they casually just want to boast about me, they refer to me as their little sister, their sister or their sister to be. Sometimes when we are just hanging around, they'll just call me Sis like this: "Hey Little Sis, want to go for a walk?" I'm definitely part of their family!

      Smiles. This one is a new one, but it makes sense. The other day I was skyping with one of the sisters to make lunch plans. Simply being able to talk with her made me so happy, but her and I share a special bond. Way back when I first started discerning, at my first high school discernment retreat, she and I were paired up to be one on ones for the week meaning that every day, after Mass, we would get to spend an hour together just chatting away. What the sisters who paired us up realized after they did so was that they put the Sisters' best extrovert and the retreat's best extrovert together and there would be no such thing as an hour limitation. She makes me laugh, makes me smile, and almost always knows when I need a lunch date. As we were chatting, I couldn't stop smiling and laughing so she decided she was going to call me Smiles. I kind of like it!

      Finally, Sunflower. Did you know, "Whenever you see a sunflower, you are sure to smile!"? It's true. That's why my dear sister began calling me her sunflower! Because every time she sees me, she is sure to smile. Although we've only known each other a little over a year, she is my sunflower and onion sister! She calls me Sunflower for the self-explanatory reasons: I am the cause of her joy and smiles!

    And so, friends, there you have it: no matter what nickname the sisters call me, each providing a light on my personality, I'm still Becca. Dear, old, same, old Becca!! I'm still me! And I still hope that I'm as precious as they all are when I'm a grow up nun!

Something About Sunflowers and Onions

"When a person sees a sunflower, they can't help but smile."

- Anonymous

"Behind every smile is a caring, gentle person."

- Anonymous

    I've known her for only a year and yet, I feel like she's known me my whole life. I've only seen her three times in the past year, including the week I met her, and yet, I feel like I see her all the time. I'm usually so cryptic and thick that I can't be read, and yet, she looks straight through me like she would a window. We share a favorite flower and a favorite hobby: sunflowers and smiling. And I've been told that there is a serious and obvious bond between the two of us. I am so blessed.

    Those who I chatted with prior to what we call CREW know how worried and anxious I was about coming this year. I won't go into too much detail but a lot of it had to do with how I would be rushing from one week event to another week event within twelve hours of each other AND how I haven't seen my dear sisters for a very LONG time. What people don't know is that I was pretty ready to just quit because of the uncomfortable anxiety. However, one sister reminded me how God needed me to go and that not going would be running away. Lord knows I can't run. Sister reminded me that there was one person I needed to see this week and if I didn't go to CREW, I wouldn't see her. So, I went. 

     Already running late for my supposed arrival time, the anxiety within my heart and soul increased as the minutes went by. I parked the car and literally ran to the front door, leaving my things behind. Not until I saw the boss and two of my closest friends did I unpack my things and then my sunflower's things. Although the girls had all arrived and were diligently working on their CREW waves while bringing much excitement to the room, my heart was still anxiety packed. My sunflower had gone to unpack her things in her room while I very quietly and patiently. I listened to the excitement in the room as I worked and then, without warning, my sunflower snuck up behind me without warning. That's when this precious picture was taken. Having her there immediately eased a good amount of my anxiety. There's just something about sunflowers that can do that!

      The night really hit it off well with all of us jumping into the boat with our captain and sharing our first night of prayers. Immediately all of the girls hit it off so well. Before I knew it, we were all exhausted simply from getting to know each other through prayer and ice breakers. Without really realizing it, I had maintained my quiet attitude throughout the night. As we walked toward the staircase, my dearest Sunflower Sister put her arm around my shoulders and whispered, "You and I are going to have to make time this week to chat and catch up. I can see in your heart, you're struggling." I couldn't argue that; she was right. 

      The next two days were packed with activities such as gardening, dancing in the rain, painting over graffiti in Camden, visiting the PINK sisters and going for a CREW swim. She was only staying until Wednesday morning and because of all the activity, we hadn't yet gotten the chance to catch up. Yet, every morning or every time she could, she filled my heart with positive sayings such as: "We're so blessed you're here," "Good morning, Angel," "Thanks for your witness," "You're the best," and most importantly, "You are so loved here." She never failed to give a hug every time she could or just a simple hand to hold. She knew I was struggling with a storm inside and needed a captain to guide me. So, she was subtly sending me the directions I needed to prepare the ship for the storm. 

     By Tuesday night our time was running out. So, right after our late night prayer, I linked my arm with hers and casually asked if she wouldn't mind peeling onions with me. For those of you who don't know this, onions brings tears to one's eyes. Since I'm both an English major and I love to cook, I'm constantly using crazy parallels with food and real life. So, yes, I more or less asked her if she wouldn't mind letting me cry a little on her shoulder. And so, we had our catch up chat which really consisted of me crying while peeling away the layers of my onions, and her steadying my hand as I peeled. And thank God. 

     I don't do tears well, especially in front of people. There are only a select few I've cried in front of and I can count them on one hand. I use only one finger when counting how many I've actually really really really cried in front of...like the whole awkward breathing, snotty nosey, river of tears cry. And that only happens when I peel onions. 

     There is something about sunflowers that let's you know you are safe and sound and protected and loved.  There is something about onions that truly lets you cry. And there is something about peeling onions with a sunflower that truly reveals to you God's love and healing power. I am so blessed to have spent three very special retreating days with a beautiful sunflower. I can't really put into words how grateful I am for her presence in my life, but if we're being honest, let's just say: my ship would have been lost to the storm.