Address: 344 E. 104th St. (between 1st & 2nd)
Weekend Mass Times: Sat: 6pm; Sun: 9:30am, 11am (Spanish)
Weekday Mass Times: M-S: 8:30am
Confession: Before each Mass
Charismatic Group: Wed: 7pm
About St. Lucy
Attending the Mass today with a nearly dead camera battery - got the pics I could before it stopped working - hope these will do.
A few things struck me and stuck with me about Mass today - first off: St. Lucy's eyes. The saint is always shown in art holding a pair of eyes, her eyes. She was martyred and it's said (in some retellings) that her murderers gouged out her eyes before killing her. Thus, she is the patron saint of the blind.
It was First Communion Mass at St. Lucy's today, so I witnessed maybe 15-20 young kids in their suits and dresses receive the Sacrament for the first time - it was cute. Something about it made me all emotional today. The kids happy to be receiving Communion for the first time; the pride in their parents' eyes; the children handing their mothers roses at the end of Mass to commemorate Mother's Day: it was all very sweet.
The hymns sung at today's Mass were all sentimental to me as they were throwbacks to the songs I grew up with (and probably you did too:) "Here I am, Lord", "One Bread, One Body", and "I am the Bread of Life." The last one really got me today, and any of the emotions I was having came on all the stronger during that song. I remember this hymn at my grandfather's funeral when I was seven years old - the only time I've ever seen my father cry. It just gets me, you know? And my mind turns to my own parents and how they are getting on in years (not anywhere near decrepit or anything like that, but still slowing down,) and I think about what will happen one day in the future and I can't stand to even consider it.
But that is all to come some day down the road. For now there are other things. My girlfriend and I are on the brink of certain ruin. The girls of my past have looked at me in ways I couldn't handle and so told them not too, but I could never convince them that I wasn't the man they considered me to be. And now that I've found one who's seen right through me, and still wants to be with me, I know it isn't, in the end, going to turn out okay after all. There's a rift between us, something that's not all right. She knows my failings, and though she accepts them, I can see that a part of her mind (or maybe it's her heart) never will. The subsequent unspoken psychological effects seep down good and deep and seethe there, beneath the surface of us both, until we grow apart, drastically, all the while sitting at her kitchen table, facing one another.