The Misery of Birthdays

For older single Catholics seeking marriage, birthdays can be a cruel reminder that your calling remains unfulfilled.  This year, some of the ongoing struggles in my life created a perfect storm of misery on what should have been a special day.

Recently, my parish hosted a question and answer session with one of the Boston Archdiocese's regional bishops.  I brought up many difficult subjects like the mishandling of the priest sex abuse scandal and the plight of single Catholics who aged out of those young adult ministries.  I told him the Church abandoned people like me and the isolation we had to endure was insufferable.  The meeting left me feeling so empty, my mind was in a fog for the next few days.

At the time, an old friend was visiting the area but our plans for the week got derailed.  As mentioned in the previous blog entry, our trip to Cape Cod was cut short by a flat tire that left us stranded in Boston.  A few rainy days later in the week ruined other plans we had made.  My friend's vacation ended during the early morning hours of my birthday so instead of sleeping in, I wound up driving him to the airport at 3 AM.

Missing out on a full night's sleep left me tired and a bit on edge.  As usual, only a handful of Facebook friends posted birthday greetings so I decided to write on my wall, “Does anyone want to help me salvage my birthday by getting together and doing something fun?”  I hoped against hope someone would come through for me.  An acquaintance tried being funny by suggesting we go to a strip club but his comment only angered me.  My desperate plea was like an unseen rescue flare launched in the middle of a vast ocean.  I wondered why friends seemed to disappear right when I really needed them.

Earlier in the week, my mother planned to cook a favorite birthday meal but all this changed when my brother called a few days later.  Now we were going to celebrate at a restaurant halfway down the highway from his house.  No one even asked me if this was alright and to top it all off, the restaurant they chose was popular with old people.  Ugh!  My brother and his wife tended to look down on me because they had a house, children and successful careers while I opted to be a caregiver for my elderly parents.  Still, I decided not to complain.  At least this gave me somewhere to go on my birthday.

Just before we headed out to the restaurant, my brother called to say he was going to be over an hour late.  As it turned out, he and his family were furniture shopping.  How nice of my brother to squeeze celebrating my birthday into his otherwise busy schedule!  Suddenly, the anger that had been simmering now boiled over.  I was so upset, we decided to cancel and stay home.  It was typical of my brother to leave us in the lurch like that because he assumed lonely old me wouldn't have other plans later on.  Like some self-fulfilling prophecy, I wound up spending the rest of the night in my bedroom.  Sadly, no one else responded to my Facebook post.

As the years pass, the weight of my loneliness only seems to be getting heavier.  You'd think the Church would be a source of comfort but it's not.  Singles like me hear, “The only friend you need is God.” or “There is no reason to be sad in life because Jesus died for our sins.”  One pastor talked about how important it was to defend the faith even if it meant losing friendships or a good job.  Funny how he wasn't there for the parishioners who followed his advice and were now unemployed social outcasts.

The response from secular society is even worse with people making jokes or refusing to believe someone could feel so depressed.  Instead of compassion, I get admonished for being a Gloomy Gus.  They just assume I'm blowing things out of proportion and that I'll be okay.

I'm ashamed my anger got the best of me on my birthday because such behavior isn't very Christ-like.  Would arriving an hour late to a restaurant have mattered in the grand scheme of things?  Probably not but lashing out was a symptom of a much greater problem.  There's so much I still want out of life but at this point, I no longer know how to get there.

Poverty Is Hazardous to Your Health

Hmmm.  How old are these tires?

This month, a good friend now living in Arizona returned to the area with his son for vacation.  He stayed over his dad's house and hoped to check out a few museums on Cape Cod during the week.  I was invited to tag along but the trip had me worried.  My friend's father struggled financially and I wondered if his car was being properly maintained.  No one else shared my concern and later that night, my mother told me to be positive.

Our long journey to "the Cape" started smoothly but as we passed through Boston, the car made a grinding noise.  I quickly realized it was a flat tire and told my friend to pull into the breakdown lane.  With no usable spare, we were stranded.  Luckily, a state trooper passed by and offered us assistance.  The car was eventually towed a repair shop near my friend's dad's house but since the driver only had room for one passenger, my friend's son, dad and I had to take the commuter rail back.  We missed catching the noon train by three minutes.  "Be positive," my mother said.  It seems odd to say the highlight of our trip to Cape Cod was not dying in an automobile accident.

The "scenic view" from our Cape Cod trip. 

The repair shop said all of the car's tires were way too old so my friend spent over 500 dollars to buy four new ones.  It turned out his dad was deferring maintenance on his automobile and the additional discovery of rusting tie rods meant a second attempt to Cape Cod was out of the question.  Throughout this whole ordeal, I thought about how dangerous poverty could be.  We've all seen junky old cars that are patched together but have we ever thought about the people who drive them?

My friend's dad had been a loyal employee of the Jordan Marsh department stores since 1969.  The company was bought by Macy's in 1996 and then ten years later, they merged with the Filene's department store chain.  Since Filene's employees were unionized and the Macy's employees were not, my friend's dad suddenly found himself out of a job.  To add insult to injury, he was only a few years away from retirement.

Poverty in the suburbs can be difficult to see but every now and then I would catch glimpses of his financial hardships.  In winter, he shut off the heat and wore extra layers of clothes.  On hot summer days, he wouldn't run the air conditioner.  At night, he used a flashlight to go from room to room instead of turning on the lights.  One year, he lost a shocking amount of weight because there was little money for groceries.

Recently, a local TV show examined the health risks associated with poverty by comparing two Boston neighborhoods that were only a few miles apart.  In the affluent Bay Back, the average life expectancy was 90 but in the much poorer Roxbury, the average life expectancy was 58.  Why the disparity?  Those interviewed cited a number of reasons including limited access to health care, food deserts, crime, stress and even depression.  When you're struggling to make ends meet, problems seem compounded. 

It's tempting for some Christians to say, "God helps those who help themselves" and "Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day.  Teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime" but those sayings aren't found anywhere in the Bible.  If you look at the story of the Good Samaritan, we are called to go that extra mile for those in need.  Nowhere does the Good Samaritan tell the man who was robbed and beaten, "Pull yourself up by your bootstraps."  There are times when people feel like the world has beaten them down and they need help to get back up again. 

When my friend's dad lost his job, it left him a broken man.  He had done everything right but still wound up on the losing side of capitalism.  It would have been great had he just brushed himself off and found another job to cover all of his expenses but for people who are poor in spirit, it doesn't always work that way.  Sometimes even when they know the proverbial runaway train is coming, they can't muster enough strength to get out of the way.

During the latest presidential election, there was plenty of rhetoric concerning jobs, downsizing, poverty, living wages and retirement.  Sometimes I think this country has too much of an "us versus them" mentality with the successful not fully understanding the hardships of their more unfortunate brothers and sisters in Christ.  I'm not talking about creating a welfare state or an entitlement mentality but seeing my friend's dad struggle with so many problems during his golden years makes me think we aren't doing enough to lend a helping hand to those who need it the most.

The Good Ones

Not every member of the faculty at Bishop Fenwick High School caused me so much grief.  In fact, there were some really good ones who stood out in my mind and it wouldn't be fair if I didn't mention them on this blog.

Mr. Steve Dalton:  This religion teacher was such a gentle soul.  He once told us that we all started off as a wonderful idea in God's mind and the day we were born was the day He could no longer keep the joy of who we were from the world.  Mr. Dalton often preached God first, then family and then career.  Sadly for us, he left the school after a couple of months into my Freshman year for a new job.

Mr. Kevin McCarthy:  Some of my lowest grades ever were in his advanced math classes.  I just wasn't that good with numbers but he tried to help with plenty of after school lessons.  I never did understand algebra all that much but my grades were excellent in his more practical business math class.

Mrs. Barbara Brigante:  Since I liked science, taking chemistry seemed like it would be really cool until I discovered there was a great deal of math involved.  I didn't do well in her class either but she was always very nice and patient with her students.

Mr. Andrew Parker:  He was our young and hip religion teacher.  For one assignment, we anonymously wrote down any question we wanted to ask him.  I submitted, "What is the air speed velocity of a European swallow."  When he read my note aloud, many students thought it was a dumb question.  Mr. Parker answered, "Five...no six."  He then flung himself backwards and shouted, "Ahhhhh!"  He got my Monty Python and the Holy Grail reference and after explaining the movie to the class, some students recalled seeing it on TV and admitted it was a pretty funny question after all.  One extra credit assignment had us praying with him for two minutes after school so we would learn to make time for God during our busy day.

Mrs. Kate Hawke:  A very agreeable English teacher who encouraged my writing.  At her suggestion, she helped me submit a poem to a literary magazine that featured content from area students.

Mr. John Farley:  He often used humor and fostered teamwork during religion class which included a course called Theology of Death.  Sometimes lessons were heavy like the time he told us about a student from years ago who had been killed in a construction accident.  Other times Mr. Farley lightened the mood with interesting assignments like having us bring in a death-related song.  I chose Julie Brown's The Homecoming Queen's Got A Gun.

Sr. Charlotte Wickes:  Despite encounters with authoritarian nuns, she was one of the sweetest and most soft-spoken nuns you could ever hope to meet.

Ms. Kathleen Nolan: I don't remember too much from her English class but she called me one of the nicest students she had ever taught.  Where others saw negativity in me, she saw sensitivity and goodness. 

Ms. Suzanne Bertrand:  This pleasant and outgoing religion teacher discovered I loved trivia so we agreed to a head-to-head competition of Trivial Pursuit right in class.  I lost but it was all in good fun.  She also enjoyed the original Star Trek series and I often tried to convince her to give The Next Generation a second chance.

Mrs. Eileen Gibbons:  My homeroom teacher seemed to understand that I was having trouble fitting in at the school so she treated me with patience and understanding.

Mr. Paul Downey:  His civics class was pretty laid back and he often used humor to create a wonderful learning environment.  We shared a love of Benny Hill and I wound up lending him a VCR tape of the British comedian's antics.  His son attended the school with me but he was in the group of jocks who didn't resort to bullying.  (A credit to how his father raised him.) 

I think these teachers stand out in my mind because they not only went that extra mile for their students, they created a learning environment built on mutual respect.  My high school years were less than ideal but these great educators helped make those awkward times a bit more bearable.