Where good things happen

I dreamed last night that I was with my daughter in an office suite of some company that I worked for. She was around one year old, as cute and happy as I remember her almost thirty years ago. We roamed around the office, oblivious to others. I remember at one point being amazed at how well she could walk. “Look at you walking!” I exclaimed as she waddled away from me.

When I woke up this morning, one of the things I thought about was a commentary I read about yesterday’s readings at Mass. Fr. Ron Rolheiser talks about how our loved ones, when they die, go to be with Jesus in Galilee (where the two angels told the women who visited his grave to look for him). “Galilee,” Fr. Rolheiser writes, “is the place where, for the most part, the good things happen … a place where our persons and souls are most alive, where our lives radiate the energy and exuberance of the divine … that place in the heart where Jesus invites you to meet him.”

Experiencing my first-born child as a little girl again brought me back to that divine time in our lives. 

Version 3
My daughter at around age one.

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