Our Catholic Roots Are Showing at Vatican City

Written By: Kim - Aug• 06•11

On our fourth day in Rome, we spent all day at Vatican City. Despite the fact that we allowed plenty of time to get there, we did not anticipate that the Metro train sign near our hotel was really a walking corridor to the next stop. Fifteen minutes later….

Once we got on the Metro train, the train was packed, despite the fact that it was 10:15 am. Cognizant of pick pockets, we were on alert. In the throng of people, Mike had gotten separated from us. After we got off the train, he told us that an older woman tried to steal from his cargo pocket. The pockets were buttoned and he felt something brush by his thigh. He checked and the pocket was unbuttoned. Luckily, there was nothing in it but gum, but she didn’t even get that. He closed the pocket and she tried again. This time, he slapped her hand away. Our second experience with Rome’s infamous pick pockets.

Still rushing from our misunderstanding of the Spagna Metro Stop, we headed toward the Vatican, a 10 minute walk. Thank God I listened to the advice of others and booked our tour tickets ahead of time. The regular line wrapped around two city blocks along the Vatican Wall. We arrived 15 minutes late, but were greeted by our lovely guide, Christina.

Swiss Guards protect the Vatican and the pope. ©Mike Howard

If you go, pay the extra charge and get the audio tour. It is much easier to hear your guide since most of the rooms are crowded and cavernous. It is also worth the price to pay for a guided tour. If you bother to go to Vatican City, you should learn as much as you can while you are there. Art lovers and appreciators will thoroughly enjoy seeing and learning about these Vatican treasurers.

One of the Vatican Museum ceilings. ©Mike Howard

We spent the first 30 minutes in front of a huge touchscreen showcasing the details of the Sistine Chapel paintings. The ceiling is 20 meters above ground and during peak months, it’s crowded. People milling about and others sitting on the coveted benches pressed up against the walls. They are not moving so be prepared to stand. This is also the room where the cardinals convene to elect the new pope. The Sistine Chapel is the pope’s private chapel and he says mass there.

To say that we were overwhelmed by the manmade beauty is the understatement of the year. To say that God granted these artists unbelievable talent and eyes for seeing and creating things that mere mortals do not, is the second understatement of the year. The sheer vastness of the Vatican’s collection of artwork makes this visit a must for novices and connesiours. Amazing.

After touring the Vatican Museums, which included the Sistine Chapel, we headed to St. Peter’s

The alter over St. Peter's crypt. Only the pope is allowed to say mass here. ©Mike Howard

Basilica. Only the pope is allowed to say mass  at the Alter of St. Peter. And what an alter it is. Literally located over the tomb of St.Peter, the alter boasts copper columns that almost reach the ceiling. There are several chapels where you can get married, baptize your children or have your parish priest say mass if there is a group coming. Apparently, you have to book early, but what an experience!

We then headed back to the little shop run by nuns. The religious items they sold were simply stunning and reasonably priced. What a lovely group of ladies to shop with. A final shot of the Swiss Guards and we headed out to St. Peter’s Square. The sheer vastness of this and the fact that the buildings are shaped to form outstretched arms tells us that the architect knew his customer quite well.

 

 

Mom: The Best Cheerleader Ever

Written By: Kim - May• 07•11

This weekend is Mother’s Day. It’s the ninth one that I have celebrated motherless. My first Mother’s Day without my Mom, I was a wreck. I was in a Hallmark story buying cards for both my mother-in-laws when the sales person asked if I was picking out a card for my Mom. I replied curtly, “My Mother is dead.”  I am not sure who was shocked more because saying it out loud was still kind of foreign to me. I could not hold it together long enough to get out of the mall without bursting in to tears. Nine years later, Mother’s Day still leaves me with void that only a Mom can fill.

The Wickline family 1968.

I was lucky enough to grow up in a home with two loving parents. I was the last of five and it was my Mom’s second marriage. She and my Dad were married five years before I came along. In between that time, she miscarried a baby boy. I was planned for and wanted. I always felt loved.

Dad was in the US Army and sometimes he was deployed elsewhere in the world. My one, true constant was my Mother. She was there through everything good or bad; glorious or tragic. Alone, she kept our family together while my Dad was deployed twice to Vietnam, once to Thailand and once to Korea.

Although I put my father on a pedestal like many daughters do, it was my Mother who was my rock. It was my Mother who provided me with the foundation for my faith. The one who practiced, as well as she could, what she preached. The one who cherished all of her children because she knew they were a gift from God. The one who always had a smile on her face for me and open arms when I needed a hug.

Don’t get me wrong: my relationship with my Mom was far from perfect. At times, she drove me nuts and we would argue. Constantly reminding me to buckle my seat belt when I was a teenager (smart move). Waiting up until I came home. Draping me in everything pastel or ruffles. There were discussions during wedding dress shopping (she caved), about my children’s names (we kept them) and that noise she used to make when cheering at high school football games. It’s a good thing my Mom was so well read because she knew that tribal women in other countries made this noise, but it was still embarrassing. Thank God I was huddled up with the band during high school football games. My Dad should get a medal for having to endure those embarrassing moments.

As a woman who had a high school education, Mom was extremely proud of me when I earned my college and graduate degrees. But she was also just as proud when I gave birth to two beautiful children. She always told me I could be anything I wanted. She believed in me so I could believe in myself. She instilled this message in me so I could pass it along to my kids.

Me and Mom; Mother's Day 1987.

Please hug your Mom one more time and tell her you love her for me and the children like me who no longer can say it to their Moms.