Ten years ago this month, I started a blog.
(Okay, technically it was January...so I am off one day!)
I remember another friend had started a blog sharing about her work in ministry and her new life as a wife and mom. I looked up to this person; in some ways, I wanted to be like her when I grew up.
As I read her blog, I thought to myself, "This looks like fun. Gosh, I could do that!"
And so I started.
I started it about six months before my wedding. After getting married, I used it as a little spot to talk and reflect on marriage, my faith, and working in ministry.
Over the last ten years, this space has changed and evolved. In many ways, just like me.
I have went through divorce, annulment, dating and being single, career changes...pretty much a lot of the "big" adult things.
I have went through big changes here; healed, grown, and shifted.
From the time I was a little girl, I loved writing. When I began this space, I saw it as a creative outlet I could practice the art of writing.
And you know what happened?
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| a 2012 Patty... |
I discovered something in this little space - my soul came alive in new ways writing. It helped me find myself in deeper ways and became a way to process and navigate hard things in my life.
I did it just for me, for Patty. Not knowing where it would take me.
Yes, blogging has led me to opportunities to write more professionally online and speak from time to time. Those experiences enriched me as a woman and I am grateful for opportunities to be paid for my work.
However, those experiences alone do not keep me writing.
I keep writing because I love it. I keep writing because it is a fire in my soul, my blue flame if you will. I keep writing because it helps me feel more connected to my own heart, my spirit, and to God.
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| a 2022 Patty |
This humble little space has done more good for me than I anticipated.
Happy anniversary, little blog. Happy anniversary, writing life. Happy anniversary, sweet dream I never let die.
You brought me more than I ever expected: a deeper sense of being connected to myself and the heart of Divine love.
When you heard the word femininity, what comes to mind?
There was a period in my life if you had asked me that question I would have answered something like: being quiet, reflective, wearing dresses, etc.
Growing up, one of the harmful messages I hd to let go and undo over time was unhelpful messaging about what it meant to be a little girl, to be feminine.
There are very particular memories I have where my mom would repeatedly remind me to be a good girl, a quiet girl and act ladylike.
"Remember," mom would say to me, "Nobody like a loud girl."
While her intention was not to hurt me, my sensitive Patty heart absorbed unhelpful (and unhealthy) messages about what it meant to be a girl.
As I have gotten older, I can see how this instance was one of the most hurtful messages I absorbed as a little girl and carried with me into my early twenties.
What I heard in those words was, "Be different from who you are. Act a certain way or people will not accept or like you."
"Being loud equals being bad."
Why share such a personal story with you?
Because sometimes I feel in Catholic circles there is a false perception of what it means to be feminine, to be a woman.
To be feminine is never a one-size fits all prescription. It looks different for every woman because we are all unique and none of us are the same.
Head over to Catholic Match to read the rest ...
It has been just over one year.
One year since the last time I saw my dad. One year since he took his last breath on this earth.
I was feeling a little restless and anxious as January 22 drew near.
There was a part of me that wanted the day to hurry up and pass by as quickly as possible. As if the death of my dad wasn't hard enough, there are other losses in life I am navigating and working through; those things made the loss of dad's presence feel even more profound.
While Saturday was a difficult day, I was so grateful to feel the love and support of many people in my life.
The day before, several women from my Bible study had sundae fixings delivered to my apartment so I could have a sweet treat to celebrate my dads feast day. Saturday morning my pastor offered the 9am Mass intention for the soul of my dad. As I drove home afterwards, he called me to check on me and see how I was doing.
I had many friends text me throughout the day; checking on me, letting me know there were praying for me, or sharing ways in their own life they were celebrating dads feast day. I even had an Instagram friend from Ireland offer Mass for my dad at her local cathedral in Ireland. She sent me a video clip of the priest praying for the soul of Deacon Kevin Breen on the first anniversary of his death.
My prayer buddy and soul sister Mave, texted me throughout the day and called on me to see how I was feeling. She was ever present to me on a hard day.
It was a real comfort to feel such love and support from so many people.
My siblings and I went to my moms house (it still feels weird to say that sometimes) for lunch and then went to the 5pm Mass at the parish we grew up at, where dad also served as the deacon. Do you ever have those times where going to Mass is the absolute last ting you want to do? This day was one of those for me.
I felt sad and disconnected from my heart; in some ways, just numb with grief. I cried through most of Mass, and left as quickly as I could afterwards. Driving home, I had a very frank and direct conversation with Jesus - in which I used a fair amount of four lettered words.Feeling sad and lonely, I was honest with Jesus about the day and other things on my mind.
I ended the day with a little too much ice cream (thanks Bible Babes!) and several hours of hanging out in Stars Hollow with the Gilmore girls.
I have great hope and confidence of where my dad is. I know he is more alive now than ever, and I am grateful he is not in physical pain or suffering. But I just wish I could have one more hug. I wish he would call me on the phone. I wish I could hear his laugh.
One of the most beautiful things I heard leading up to dads feast day, was something my girlfriend's mom shared with her growing up: the day a person is born and the day they die are the most powerful days to ask their intercession and prayers. If we have the hope and trust a person is with God in their eternal reward, it is their new job to advocate for us in Heaven.
So, Kate reminded me, it is my dads job to ADVOCATE on my behalf before the throne of God. Isn't that absolutely beautiful?
I took that to heart and especially on dads feast day, asked his prayers for some very particular intentions.
Life continues to move forward even when it is forever changed by something like death.
Dad -Wherever I am, you'll always be.More than just a memory...
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