The Mass is the heartbeat of the Church.
We called her Bamas.
She was my dad’s mom. She had a collection of unique accents in her home that I always loved as a kid. Her blown-glass balls sparkling in the windows. Her vintage Mrs. Butterworths jars lining the shelf in the foyer. Her statues of portly friars adorning the living room.
By my favorite was the tangle of brass bells hanging on her door. Continue reading