Leaving Home
I left my home and life so far in September 1956. I stayed overnight with my grandparents and all the relatives who stopped by to wish me luck with my new adventure. The next day I rode with my family the several miles to Holy Cross Seminary.
I debated about whether to continue the adventures and highlights of my life. Several years ago, I wrote a book, Young Man of the Cloth, detailing my nine years of life in the seminary and monastery. This book offers a fuller account of these years than would be found in trying to summarize them here. I did stop for reflections on my adventures in the book. I have decided to share these reflections regarding my religious life.
For a fuller account of these years of my life I refer you to my book, Young Man of the Cloth. It is available for sale in soft cover or as a digital book at Amazon. I just finished rereading it and think you might enjoy it and its account of a bygone era. In the meantime, here is the first reflection from Young Man of the Cloth.
Evening Reflections
I got into bed, feeling tired after the day’s adventures, hoping to get to sleep. Still I found myself with eyes wide open, a lump in my throat and stomach and feelings I could not identify. I eventually realized I was lonely, sad and homesick. I had been away to boy scout camp and to visit relatives, but never had to sleep among complete strangers.
I missed the comfort of my family and the familiarity of my room and belongings as I lay in the cold anonymity of the dormitory. I had a top bunk because one happened to be open when I arrived and I thought I might like one for some reason. It provided me a good view. Some students slid quickly into bed while others stayed up in the dark to practice their exercises. A couple of more developed exercisers included one handed push-ups in which they held one wrist with the other hand and sidled down into a sideways pushup. Others came up quickly and clapped their hands together in front of them and landed back on them for the next pushup. Still others were content with regular pushups. I did not see the point and was satisfied going to sleep with no pushups.
After falling asleep, I dreamed of home and everything I knew there. Nothing here was familiar and each hour seemed to hold new expectations of behavior which were quite foreign to me. I supposed I could get used to it. I seemed to think I would just be a priest magically and did not consider all the steps of going through high school, college, the novitiate, and monastic seminary for philosophy and theology before ordination. A long road and I had only completed one day. Maybe I would be more at peace with the reality of what I had chosen in the morning.