Wednesday 25 March 2026
I haven’t missed Mass this past year. And even though the Feast of the Annunciation is not a Holy Day of Obligation, I wasn’t going to start now.
Except as I started walking to church, I felt like I wanted to head back to the sofa I’d just left.
I had a miserable headache, slight nausea, and a feeling of wanting to stay still. But I made it to church, with a dozen others, and disguised my forward slump as prayerful leaning.
I don’t know the term for a grown-up altar boy, but I watched as, with his usual grace, our grown-up altar boy lit the candles one by one, bowing to Christ each time he faced forward. It affected me like an ASMR video on YouTube. I could have watched him light more candles, perhaps as someone threw a blanket over me and I drifted off to sleep.
I managed to say “and also with you,” but my voice was weak. I noticed I also wobbled slightly as I stood up.
But I love the story of the Annunciation. I love hearing about the Archangel Gabriel. I love seeing the art and reading the commentaries about how the Blessed Virgin Mary, who didn’t have to say yes, did so. She could have said no, but didn’t.
I started this past year a little distant from Mary, respectfully so. But felt through the year a love for her I hadn’t anticipated. I didn’t expect to be one of those people who spoke that way about the Virgin Mary. But here I am.
As we reached the Mass itself, the sound of the bells seemed to roll around the inside of my head. But by the time we were sent on our way, I was sure I was feeling better. But when I reached home, I got a blanket and slumped on the sofa just to be sure.