After morning mass, we ate at McD, where “the maximum occupancy is 63”, which makes the interior much smaller! Lots of Filipinos ate here, including parishioners. The Boss’ Dad came over and spoke with us. While he stood at our table, the conversation was mostly about religion – the connection of mostly Filipino priests/nuns from Montreal (Canada) and Europe – Spain (where “Dad” wants to retire) and Milan (Italy), where he visits the opera houses like his second home.
Unfortunately, I assume to understand why the Boss and his elder sister (who doesn’t visit her parents) have their own lives. Their parents spend their monies by traveling abroad to said countries and will do so more often when “Mom” retires at the end of July. (He refuses to share his age. That tells me they are hiding and that’s NOT good in my books!) My understanding is that the Boss and his sister are on their own because of what “Dad” joked about us children waiting for their parents to die so that we could inherit the spoils of their hard work. Wow! That says a lot! So sad.
We know now that the Boss’ parents are capable of exploiting the kindness of alleged “friends”, who offer their homes for their stays abroad instead of their lodging in hotels. We told them we stay in hotels instead of burdening even our own relatives/strangers, who won’t ever leave us alone, thinking we Americans have dollars to spend for everyone. I sensed the “Mom” may ask me to offer my home for their exploits of visiting Filipinos from the Philippines. No way! It’s NOT my property and both my younger brother and I will decide TOGETHER.
We emphasized that we have built five houses for my maternal relatives; that I’ve sponsored a family for at least a year (with Maw quoting the monthly expenses upon which I saw slight tears in the eyes of the Boss’ Dad) and that we don’t expect any credit/recognition/reward from people! It’s NOT humbling to learn that the Boss’ parents operate in this manner, by raising monies to repair other people’s problems, especially homes, schools, parishes, whatever, instead of helping their own two children!
We further emphasized that we know that most priests, especially Filipinos from the Philippines, are dishonest and will pocket the donations instead of repairing/maintaining their local building/grounds. There are “concerns” from some parishioners that they don’t really like our pastor for whatever reasons. I don’t know exactly. Just because our local parishioners are Filipinos doesn’t mean we have to overly saturate the parish with Filipino activities. That’s NOT nice in our books.
There arw also “complaints” of someone breaking tradition. Instead of wearing the usual gowns/robes during summer (due to low attendance/vacation), much like how priests wear their cassocks and the altar servers wear theirs daily, the Monseigneur last Saturday joked that those members are on strike and some parishioners noticed that there are no members, who are mistaken as ordinary parishioners because they are wearing civilian clothes. One member complained that she doesn’t like how he handles the members, which explains why most of the “white folks” left. It’s a shame.
But because I’m a noob and like “changes”, I really do NOT care! As long as operations runs smoothly, anything goes. Ideally, it would be nice to make everyone happy but realistically that is next to IMPOSSIBLE. I’m already deeply disappointed and profoundly discouraged from participating at my local parish.
No wonder I get “anxiety attacks” – I’m assuming it’s my “spider senses” tingling, alerting me of unseen/unknown dangers by evil people infiltrating my church, which once again is full of trouble/lost souls from the beginning.
At 0921am, one of the members interrupted the conversation with the Boss’ Dad, who looked at me directly and waved a goodbye as Maw/Paw was distracted and talked to the newcomer. She left just as quickly as he followed her husband out the north-facing door near the deep fryer for french fries.
We left to go shopping at DeCA and later spoke about gardening fruits/vegetables with June, who worked at the grocery store. We are home.
Juan, the one-eyed Honduran, is in/outside the home of psycho Linda. Bunch of crazies everywhere!
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