I was essentially awake for about eighty hours.  Last night, after the women’s retreat, it was about 8:30 and I was wide awake.  Knowing motion tends to make me sleepy, I thought that instead of going straight home I would ride the subway for a while to see if that would help matters.  I rode back and forth a few times on the red line (it’s about an hour from the beginning to the end of the line).  Unfortunately, that didn’t really seem to help matters, but it did give me a lot of time to think over the happenings of the day and time to observe a lot of people.  I happen to enjoy both activities quite a bit.

I was thinking back on the day, and my attention kept going to the last hours of the retreat, because we had eight priests come in for Confession and they also had Adoration.  While these normally occur during our weekend retreats, these are not normal occurrences for a day-long women’s retreat.  This was the first time, and I was ridiculously excited.

I happen to love Confession–I mean, in what other situation can you air the very worst about yourself and have someone not only forgive you, but remind you how precious and loved you are?–and Adoration, so to say that I was looking forward to both would be an understatement.  I think I was particularly joyed over the matter because I have been dragging my feet about going to Confession since I’ve had so much going on, so it’s been much longer than I’d like since I last went.  As for Adoration, well, the Catholic Center at BU usually does Adoration on Thursday nights when RCIA is occurring, so I never get to go unless I go on a retreat or go to a different parish.  I don’t exactly have all the free time in the world to go to a different parish, though, because when I come into the city, I always come for a particular purpose.  So, I was pretty much feeling like I had won the lottery.

I thought about a music video we had watched that was particularly meaningful to me on a personal level, and I found myself tearing up over some things that I haven’t allowed myself to cry over in a very long time.  I prayed and thought while I worked on an Examination of Conscience to prepare for Confession.  After a while, the emotional dam I allowed to be opened became overwhelming for me, I think because I had only slept an hour the night before after not sleeping for two days straight.  I was in the ball room which was where the Blessed Sacrament was presented and Confession was occurring, and I just needed to get out.  I couldn’t tell you why I needed to get out, but I knew it sure as my name that I needed to get out of that room right then and there.  I needed air, I needed coffee, I needed to not lose the tight hold I kept over everything that was threatening to bubble to the surface.

I left the room and quickly walked over to the coffee and poured myself a cup.  I chugged it down and ran my hand through my hair and then over my face.  I quickly calmed myself down, by which point a girl in my small group in RCIA was walking by and came over.  She pulled me into a tight hug and thanked me for what I do.  I was completely taken aback.  I want to help people and be there for them, but I’ve never been particularly good at taking a compliment.  I get embarrassed and end up staring at my feet and turning red.  I don’t often get complimented, and I never know what to say when I am, because I often want to argue that I’m not as deserving of whatever label or praise I’m being given.  I know that to do so would be rude, though; after all, it is not easy for someone to humble themselves enough to raise someone else up, and I don’t want people thinking that I am not unbelievably flattered and grateful for their kind words.  So, I sort of stuttered my thanks and just hugged her back with everything I had, because those words meant so very much to me.

I was sidelined by three other young women, all completely accidental.

One knew that I hadn’t slept in a while and asked me if I was ok as she walked by where I was standing, and we sat down and talked about a lot of stuff–Issues, if you please.  We shared our stories, which turned out to be surprisingly similar; we talked about our pain and our coping and our healing and our continued struggles.  We talked about things we don’t normally share with people, much less someone we don’t know very well, and neither of us really knew the other but for having seen each other around a few times and knowing one another’s names.  Although, granted, she knows far more of me than I knew of her.  But still.  We talked for a long time.  At the end, we hugged and thanked each other for sharing our story, because sometimes it’s just nice to talk to someone who gets it.  That does wonders for healing, and it reminds you that you’re not alone.

One was on the floor of a bathroom stall throwing up in the toilet.  The poor thing was all alone.  Everyone else was in the ball room doing Confession or Adoration.  She was on her knees on the cold tile floor suffering all by herself.  I asked her if she was all right, got her to splash some water on her face and went to go get her a mint after she was finished.  I rubbed her back a little and gave her a gentle hug, and then we left the bathroom together to head back and join the festivities.

One was curled into herself crying.  I know her, and I would consider her a friend of mine.  I don’t know why she was crying, and I didn’t ask–that wasn’t what she needed from me–I just wrapped my arms around her and held onto her like my life depended upon it.  I wiped the tears from her cheek with my thumb and I kissed her forehead while I rubbed her back.  Then I hugged her again and held her for a few minutes.  I don’t know what was bothering her, but she came up to me later and hugged me  saying, “Thank you,” over and over again.

By the time I made it back I had missed Confession and Touching of the Garments.  The host was being put away from Adoration as I walked in.  I was crushed.  I missed the best parts of the retreat!

I thought about this while I was sitting on the subway for those hours before I went home, and in the midst of my haze of sleep deprivation, a singular surprisingly lucid thought broke through.  “You were exactly where you needed to be.  You missed nothing.”

And, you know what?  I absolutely believe that.  And I am so thankful for that.