Reunions

Yesterday afternoon, Owain arrived after lunch to be re-united with his sisters and stay overnight. It's a great joy for us to have all three of them together under the same roof with us. It's lovely that they all still get on well together, and can enjoy sitting at table, sharing a meal and chatting. 

This morning, I had an early start to be ready to drive to Splott to celebrate the 9.30am Mass, then the 11.00am Mass afterwards at St German's. This time, my old friend Fr Graham Francis was at church, and concelebrated the Eucharist with me. The last time we were together in this way at the altar was probably in the late 1980s, when he has Vicar of Penrhiwceiber, and I was a guest preacher on behalf of USPG. 

It's fifty years since we were both at St Mike's in training. We were among a small number of college students recruited as volunteers with Cardiff Samaritans, allowed to be be away from College on a weeknight, once a fortnight, I think it was, so that we could do the overnight shift on telephone duty. We both learned a lot from this. It was one of the first student pastoral placements outside of the domain of parochial ministry. A modest innovation in those days, but the start of a practical revolution on ministerial training which happened over the next couple of decades.

Graham lives with stomach cancer. It deprives him of his characteristic energy. He needs to rest a lot, but it doesn't hinder him taking as full a part in the Mass as he can cope with. He can't preside and preach at at Sung Mass any longer, so for most of the service he sits, and reserves himself for concelebrating and sharing the distribution of Communion. At the end, he leads the singing of the Angelus, having pointed out to me that it's an hour earlier than it should be sung, an anomalous custom from times when the St Saviour's Mass finished at noon. Since student days Graham has been a master of liturgical know how, with an immense library of publications accumulated over decades. Not an academic but a practical and creative liturgist, to whom a scholar might resort if they couldn't track down a historic resource in any library or book-shop. It saddens me to think that none of our scholarly or training institutions seem interested in inheriting his collection. He started asking when he retired. He's got publications nobody has got around to digitising or ever will.

We had a super family lunch, when I got home. Then I walked with the kids through Bute Park while Clare had a siesta. We took photos in the park and then had a go at a family selfie in the garden when we returned. I wasn't entirely pleased with the result of the latter, which I attempted to do with my Sony Alpha 68. Setting it up to take timed shots is different from the three other Sony cameras I have, and this proved disconcerting, as did setting up the camera tripod. Thankfully, Kath has a lot more expertise than me, in matters audio-visual, and rescued the situation from a long drawn out wait while dad got things right.

Kath drove Owain to the station at tea time, then headed back for Kenilworth. Time seems to pass so quickly on days like these, re-forging family bonds, with the sun shining and nothing to distract us from being at home together. I'd have liked to be completely well, but despite continued improvement this dreaded affliction still pulls me down, somewhat unawares on occasions. I'm resilient, but not as much as I expect to be. I needed Kath to remind me of how much better I am now than I was last Christmas night, when things really did take a turn for the worse. But also for the better, as I had my first contact with the District Nurses team on Boxing Day morning, and since then, I have everything to give thanks for.