I can only find this purple pen.
What a day. What a long, bizarre day. I'm sorry, this will involve another personal matter- but a big one.
We wen to Mass again a Maria Della Scala, where a different priest than the last presided. Dylan was asked to read and at the end the priest came to greet us as we were the only people in the whole church. He told us in his homily that he'd been in Calcutta last week and the church there had been crammed. The paradox of the world again, in turns big and small. From there we divided, two to the Angelus, four of us to Porta Portese (you can see where our priorities lie) an we embraced the Roman art of haggling. We four girls in the city had as much fun as we've ever had in all our semesters at Thomas More- for a little while, we were friends only, and not classmates. It had been beautiful and sunny all morning, and most of the afternoon, then rained as we waited for our bus. It hailed as we marched up the hill, drenched and singing. When we ried up inside a rainbow broke out, the clearest I've ever seen.
I then got the message that one of my closest friends from home died last night. (EDIT) He was only a few months older than I am. We grew up together, the only two Irish families in our otherwise thoroughly Italian neighborhood. We were in the same schools and acted in the same plays, we made some of the same silly mistakes, his uncle was friends with my father, and now Shaun's dead.
I've never cried at a death or a funeral. Many people I've known have died, but Shaun was the first time that overwhelmed me. I cried, then the same friends with whom I shopped at the market this morning brought me to the chapel to pray for him. We all cried during the Rosary.
Usually when someone dies I imagine them with God, but thinking of Shaun as a soul and not my friend here on earth, at home in Philly, scared me. It felt like he was in danger.
I prayed again after supper. I'll be praying for awhile.
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