It is Sunday. No Mass for me today. Since it is April, all Sunday masses will be held in the evening, and it is too late for the children to go at that time. Besides, taking the three of them to Mass all by myself is a bit too much yet. I have been alone with them this week-end since Sven has been working. I haven't seen him since early yesterday morning - and if it hadn't been for the fact that he was let off early, I probably wouldn't have seen him until ten p.m. tonight; he had to stay with my uncle's in town tonight. 20 km out of the town center, and there are virtually no buses during the week-end. The first that goes into town on Sunday passes by here at two in the afternoon, but if you manage to get into town, don't even think about getting back home... Hooray for "go public transportation"!
I wish I lived closer to town and had the luxury of going to Mass more often, even during the weekdays. To think of how I once lived right next door to a church, and could even walk from my corridor into a side chapel in the upper gallery of the church (we weren't supposed to, since the archway wasn't safe, but we sneaked over occasionally anyway) - and yet I didn't go every Sunday, let alone every day. I didn't know how lucky I was.
These times are strange times. A roommate of mine from the previously mentioned dorm (for lack of a better word) was ordained a deacon last Saturday. At the exact same time, we celebrated a baptism. Some hours later, our beloved Pope, John Paul II passed away. So many things happening - two days before, Terri Schiavo died. It feels as if I have been glued to the TV for the past two weeks. First the Terri Schiavo case, with intense prayers and finally her death, then the pope's illness, and then his passing - then on to the funeral (which was duly videotaped - two different channels, while watching two others)... I need a break from television now.
What I need, is other people. I need to get out, to see people, do things besides the endless chores around the house. The trouble is, I live very isolated, and it isn't just because I live outside of town. It would be pretty much the same if we lived right in the center of the town. I don't know any people. And there is nothing to do.
Cecilia's godmother came over to visit for a week for the baptism. It was so wonderful to have someone to talk to. To hear about other people living the faith. Doing silly things - and quite marvellous things, too. Hearing about a close-knit community. It was almost like having friends. The contrast to my own isolated and lonely existence was so clear that when she left, I got rather depressed. Have to get out of it, though.
But now you know why I'm on the Internet so much. I really don't have a life.