Confessions of a Free Range Prolapsed Catholic

Ruth and Roger were my godparents. Siblings, older children of my Mum’s sister Elizabeth Clare.

I have a photo of me with them on the day Ruth was professed into a religious order. I am a curly haired little 2 year old. Standing, sort of suspended between them. They were each very tall, I am reaching up to hold their hands.

When Ruth died, I inherited her rosary beads. Well used beautiful, larger than other sets I have. Large and shiny wooden beads after years of daily use by her.

I use them every night. I wrap them around my hand and snuggle with them under my chin. I move into foetal position and pray my Rosary. Each night, I am lulled into sleep

However, I pray my “Rosary of thanksgiving” not the joyful, sorrowful, glorious mysteries of my youth! I have 4 children and 6 grandchildren and every night I work my way round those beads loving and holding and grateful for:

Patricia Grace, Kenneth Charles, Megan Elizabeth, Joseph Charles, Gabrielle Grace, Oscar Charles, Eliza May, Darcy Robert Charles, Jacob Robert Charles, Savannah Louise. Between each “decade” I name my parents – “Mum” and “Dad”

Depending on my state of mind when my head hits the pillow, I might not even get to the last of the 5 “decades” of beads! Other nights I am so unready for surrender to sleep, I might whiz around those beads like a whirling dervish until sleep arrives!

And every night I am thankful for my own Godmother – Ruth.