February 3, 1995
Feast of Saint Blaise
"A long, long time ago, I can still remember how that music used to make me smile...February made me shiver, with every paper I deliver. Bad news on the doorstep...something touched me deep inside, the day the music died."
Don Mclean - American Pie
Today's the day the music died, a long, long time ago. On this night in 1959 a plane crashed in a snow covered field in Clear Lake, Iowa - killing Buddy Holly, Richie Valens and J.P. "The Big Bopper" Richardson. I was in the eighth grade at Saint Gregory's in Boston and the following morning at recess the news spread, there were tears in the school yard - girls cried and were comforted by the nuns. There were no tears in my eyes but there was sorrow in my heart.
Buddy Holly was the first rock star I really, really liked. From the first time I heard, That Will Be The Day, I couldn't get enough of his music. I remember seeing Elvis on the Ed Sullivan Show when I was about ten years old and thought he was more comical than entertaining - but then I was only ten.
Elvis was for girls, Buddy was for guys and this teenage boy. He made my heart beat and my feet tap, he captivated the rhythm of my soul and drew me into the new world of rock and roll. Although decades have passed, his music is as vibrant today as it was back then. May he and those who died, so long ago in a cold, dark field in Iowa, rest in peace.
My grandfather was born on this day almost a century ago - and I was baptized on this day. It is the Feast of Saint Blaise who is venerated as the patron Saint against diseases of the throat - because he once saved a young boy who was choking on a fish bone. It is a tradition within the Catholic Church to have your throat blessed on this day - or on the Sunday that is closest to this date.
On a bright blue autumn afternoon in 1973, Mimi and I went to Foxboro to see the Patriots play the Colts. I don't remember who won that football game but I do remember what happened to me that afternoon. Sometime during the game I started to get a sore throat and over the next few days it got progressively worse. When cough drops and throat lozenges failed to relieve the pain, I went to see my family doctor. He checked me out and gave me a prescription for some foul tasting medicine - which I took for two weeks to no avail. When I saw my doctor again, he gave me a different prescription, one that was suppose to be stronger and better - but it didn't help.
On my third visit my doctor made me an appointment to see a specialist. The specialist examined me, took a throat culture and gave me prescriptions for antibiotics and for a more foul tasting medicine, neither worked. Between the soreness and the medicine, my taste buds rebelled. It not only hurt to swallow but food tasted terrible and whatever I drank always tasted sour. As hard as he tried this specialist couldn't help me - and as the old year ended and a new year began, I thought my sore throat would be a chronic condition that would last forever.
On Sunday February 3, 1974, Mimi and I went to Mass at Saint Michael's in Avon. After Mass, in honor of Saint Blaise, there was the blessings of the throat. Two V-shaped candles were placed between mt neck and throat and the pries blessed me in the spirit of Saint Blaise. I then walked up the aisle towards the back of the church. At the holy water font I blessed my self and walked out the door, and as I did my sore throat disappeared. Just like that! A miracle! There is no other explanation, no other reason. A miracle from Saint Blaise! For over four months doctors couldn't heal me, but within seconds of having my throat blessed, I was healed - and I haven't had a sore throat since, nor have I failed to have my throat blessed every year.
On this the day the music died, a day full of memories, I am glad to be alive. I am feeling better and getting better, my life is improving. I am learning to be patient with my progress and know that a dark day is never permanent - and will soon pass as I continue to plow forward. Such is the miracle my life has become as it unfolds before me.
7:15pm - My Parents Cottage - Sandwich, MA
contact: fortheheartcries@gmail.com
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