My best friend Gail were sitting on the porch of her beach house in Ocean Grove, New Jersey having a conversation about Pope Francis I's visit to New York the following month. "Laura, we saw Pope John Paul II at the Meadowlands, years ago. If Steve is a Deacon at St. Patrick's why are we not going to see Pope Francis in September?" That lit my fire and I lunged for my phone. "Hey, Steve! You are a Jesuit Deacon at St. Patrick's! You are on the altar regularly. The Cardinal will host the Pope right under your nose! Gail and I need tickets to see the Pope!"
Two weeks later, Gail and I were outfitted with tickets to see the Pope at a meet and greet in Central Park. We were provided with official letters to cut through various degrees of red tape. I enlisted a substitute to take my second grade Sunday School Class and fretted about wardrobe.
UNTIL...
My phone sounds like Tinkerbell coming in for a landing. About three days before I was to leave Ohio to journey to New York, my phone twinkled. It was Todd, now twelve years old. "Hey Meme! (may-may) Mommy said you are going to see the Pope! How could you go without me! We go to Catholic School! I feel on fire when we are at Mass! How could you not let me meet the Pope without me?" What could I do? "Todd, don't you have a three day science camping thing with your school on those days? You would miss it!" He pierced through cyber space with: "It's a Catholic school, Meme! Of course I want to see the Pope!" So, I did what every logical, practical grandmother would do: "Todd, don't worry, we're leaving on Wednesday. You will see Pope Francis! Road Trip!"
NEXT...
I phoned Steve. Did I mention that we divorced fifteen years ago? "Steve, Todd is coming with me. I need a letter for him, a ticket for him for whatever. He's counting on us to pull this off!" Response: "There is no way! I just don't think that I can do it!" Refusing to accept that, I said: "Work your magic, pray, do something. Todd must come along and see the Pope! That's that!" Response: "Always a pleasure talking to you, Laura. Just speak up and make yourself clear. I'll see, but I doubt it."
SO...
I campaigned, phoned, texted just so that he wouldn't forget. I prayed and whined. St. Jude has a headache, no doubt. At Mass I silently ranted prayers for Todd to be able to come to New York with me. As I stood in the garage working on a painting project, I prayed and prayed and prayed. Tinkerbell landed and my phone twinkled like a starry night. It was Steve! "Bring Todd along. He's in! He can come to the Pope's arrival at the Cathedral." I did the happy, thank you dance as I phoned Todd and told him to start packing. The next morning, the situation got better...official letter and ticket to go to the Central Park Meet and Greet! And then, miracles just kept falling into my lap! We attained yet another ticket. Gail's sister in law said that the night before, she just knew that she would see the Pope...she did!
ON THE ROAD
We left full of joy and expectations! Todd took charge of the radio, we sang, laughed, planned our dinner, knew we would make it to the hotel half way in time for a swim in the pool. We were delayed by an hour and a half by a van driven by a woman who evidently did not see us and side swiped my car in West Virginia. We were not hurt, the car ran, so we continued. It did get tiresome for Todd to climb in and out of the car over the console since his door no longer opened, but, hey...we were off to see the Pope. He reminded me that his brother and sister had the pleasure of a deer totaling my other car, so now, he finally was in an accident with me. The Road Warrior and I made our way, missing one bus into the City from New Jersey, falling over each other to get the next one and finally met Grandpa, aka, Steve for lunch before THE MAIN EVENT!
UP CLOSE AND PERSONAL
Todd watched Pope Francis enter the Cathedral! He was so thrilled that his legs were pumping to move, but never hit the ground! As he made eye contact, Todd simply stopped breathing in his excitement and overwhelming awe.
Like a native New Yorker, we hoped the subway to return to the Port Authority for the bus back into New Jersey, missed that one, had dinner at one of the restaurants at Port Authority and managed to knock over four people to catch the next bus out!
True to my form, Gail, Jackie, Todd and I missed a bus into New York on the morning of the Central Park Meet and Greet. Luckily, another came quickly. Upon exiting the Port Authority, we lunged at a taxi driver, who was content to compete for the Winston Cup as he careened to the 61st Street entrance of the Park. The people waiting were nice, peaceful. There was an atmosphere of cooperation, consideration, party, joy. Todd befriended a student his age from Ireland where just being twelve and enamored by the Pope (and possibly missing school) was enough of a bond. By the time Pope Francis came through, three of four of us had dead phones...no cameras! That gave me the opportunity to fully engage with the aura of Francis. I observed onlookers. People were crying out: "Papa!" and "Francis!" Women were crying, reaching out. There had been a rather large, solid, inexpressive man waiting. As Francis passed, he wiped a tear from his steely eye. Todd, since we were in key, ideal places, simply stood with his new friend, a few feet from our Pontiff and came away with amazing photos! I was glad that he was breathing this time. Acting as his agent, I took phone numbers from those around us to send them his pictures.
His camera, to date is wonkie. We cannot get the photos! We have to go to Apple to figure out why! Can you believe that? Well, if you are familiar with us, you most certainly can!
Gail, Jackie and I reverently returned to New Jersey while Todd stayed in New York with Grandpa for the night. On our last day, the boys joined me in New Jersey. After Mass at my home parish, Todd and I headed West.
REFLECTING
As we rehashed and talked about our adventure, kidded about the car and camera over dinner, before checking into a hotel, again, mid way home, for the night we spoke as if we had dream walked through the previous few days. Still in awe, still feeling the glow of the spirit.
THAT NIGHT
As we settled in, knowing that home was only a few hours away, Todd said: "You know, Meme, it was really nice of the Pope to come all the way to New York to see us and Aunt Gail. Now it's our turn to visit him at his house next. And, thank you Meme. These were the best days of my life!"
Hmmmm.....next, visit Francis at the Vatican? And, how about this: Until this moment, the best night of Todd's life was Road to Wrestlemania at Madison Square Garden, in February. So, the Pope trumps WWE! And that's how it should be!
