“There are only two lasting bequests we can hope to give our children. One of these is roots; the other, wings.”

Hodding Carter

I received Mom’s and Dad’s symbols in the mail two days ago. I opened them yesterday in the early morning when it was quiet and I had time to consider them. There were two envelopes that accompanied the symbols explaining the significance of each. Both Mom’s and Dad’s handwritten notes and their choice of symbols touched me. I could tell that a lot of thought went into their selections, and I wanted to give them the same respect through my reflection and response.

Dad

“Funny thing, but you can sing it with a cry in your voice
And before you know, start to feeling good
You simply got no choice.”

Neil Diamond, Song Sung Blue

I wasn’t sure what to expect from Dad, but his choice made complete sense: he has given me a tangible symbol of my roots. It is Gramp’s rosary inscribed with “Francis J. Duggan” on the back, two men that I deeply admire. When I picked it up, the rosary felt very familiar; it was the one Nana always held in church. I’m not sure if this was all the time or only after Gramp’s death. Like a worry stone, the cross is smooth from years of contemplative rubbing. It is sturdy, has been well-loved through the years, holds great wisdom, and has seen its share of sorrow and joy- much like the man and role model who shared it with me. The beads smell just like the perfume Nana wore. When I recognized the smell, I cried. It was like she was right there in the room with me. What a gift to have my grandparents’ presence as I walk. In a script I am familiar with through brief notes and my year in the office, Dad writes, “I am certain [Gramp] would want you to have it and carry it on the Camino. I think saying the Rosary also has a meditative effect when things get a little difficult.” It sounds like you may know a thing or two, Dad. Thank you for sending me such a meaningful symbol, one that brings back memories of summer visits on Scott Street and bearable Sundays in church with Nana. It has been a long time since I have said a Rosary. I may need a refresher. Thank you for reintroducing me to a mediative practice that I have overlooked for years. And thank you for reminding me that the Catholic Church does have its spiritual rituals and practices. In a quiet way, you have always made me consider things from a different perspective. As someone once said, “a father is a daughter’s first love.”

Now, Dad threw a curveball and included a chaser! It is a scallop shell that he picked up on a walk on the beach in Naples. He is letting me “decide what to do with it.” I knew right away, without question, what I would do with it. Ralph Waldo Emerson states, “Once you make a decision, the universe conspires to make it happen.” This trip is proof. I know that Dad has made a decision to buy The Naples House if it becomes available again. I know it will. The scallop shell that you have sent on its Way will return to bless your home. Go the distance, Dad! Vaya con Dios.

Note: Mom’s post will appear on Sunday, May 12.