A friend recently said to me that every now and again the specter of my catholic upbringing steals a quick look to see if anyone is watching and when the time is right, jumps boldly into one my photos. Well, I’m not so sure I can agree with that wholeheartedly. Maybe it’s the Irish in me that that is too stubborn to accept that as truth or perhaps my Latin half that still suffers from the guilt of bailing from the church when I found out that God had a 9 to 5 like everyone else.
But one thing that did stick with me from all those years back was an image of a guardian angel hovering over a couple of kids as they crossed an old rickety bridge. So growing up around a lot of bridges I put a fair amount of stock into the role of angels in general. I figured they pretty much had it going on. Needless to say I must have packed that belief away into the little daypack we carry into adulthood for when I saw the above image last weekend out of the blue another childhood truth was devastated and left me asking what in the world could possibly cause an angel to cry.
Giving it some thought I can only imagine that perhaps she may have lost her mortal charge in some ploy gone terribly wrong. Or perhaps she was a moment too late to sacrifice herself for the life she was guarding but whatever the case angels answer to no one. So maybe that makes it all the more difficult to lose status quo as guardian… No one to answer to… No one to say it’s ok.