Remembering

Today is the 55th anniversary of my ordination to the priesthood of the church of God by Archbishop Glyn Simon. I remember his hands trembling with Parkinson's disease at the moment he laid hands on me. Some joked irreverently about his tremble wondering if it affected the transmission by the Spirit of Holy Orders, possessed with the idea that Holy Orders are received by contagion.  We were so immature being entrusted with the cure of souls. When I made the customary confession before  Easter in the year of my ordination, Archbishop Glyn counselled me with a phrase from the Palm Sunday Collect - recognising that all priests need patience and humility, like Jesus on the way of the cross. Unforgettable wisdom. I'm deeply grateful for the adventure of a life I've been given as a pastor and ambassador for Christ, despite my many failings. On times I still feel like an impostor among clergy.

It's good to be reminded by this day of who I am and was called to be by my contemporary Anglicans in St Paul's University Chaplaincy Bristol. A day to remember, as re-membering takes on a new significance piecing together the rubble of data rent asunder by my Holy Cross day brainstorm.

I managed to sleep, though not enough, and make an effort to eat, rest and write a little.  It's slow and  not automatic, but getting less error prone, so my hand eye coordination must be improving which means the meds are easing the pressure on the occipital lobe.

Owain contacted Fr Rhys to check about communication with home nursing. He came around to see us, and anointed us both. Not the last rites, but the first in the healing process! After lunch Fr Andrew came by and asked me to pray with him, recently bereft by the accidental death of his mother in law. In telling him the story of last Sunday's Communion incident when the stroke impact on me changed everything I couldn't  remember Fr Siôn's name. It popped into my mind twenty minutes later as I was about to go out for a walk around the block. Re-membering was spontaneous and slow. A surprise. It's a bit like throwing a pack of cards in the air and having to pick them all up and sort them into suites. We were tired, and Clare was miserable with muscle pain. After ten o'clock medication, it took two hours to get to bed.