The end of the most grueling and trying session of the Florida Legislature that my wife can remember for 20+ years is upon us. If all goes well, Friday will be the last day. I ate supper alone all last week, and probably will this week too. Unbelievably, R. didn't have to go in this weekend, so we got to be together. She bought groceries on Saturday, and took a nap in the afternoon. We went out to Ted's Montana Grill, luckily going early, before parties arrived from FSU and FAMU graduation ceremonies. On Sunday I did laundry and took Claudius the cat out, while R. prepared a casserole for the coming week. R. took another nap. For supper I grilled the steaks she had bought, while she made mashed potatoes and a salad. We walked around the block. I took the garbage bin to the curb, and we cleaned up the kitchen.
EWTN was rebroadcasting the beatification of Pope John Paul II at 8 p.m., so we settled in to watch it. I was baptised as an adult into the Episcopal Church in 1980, and I might have been content there, had not John Paul II summoned me in a dream in 1985. He handed me a book, while looking at me doubtfully, as though I would be unable to profit from his gift. In 1989 I was received into the Catholic Church. Some years later, I again dreamed of him. I looked on with the Virgin Mary as he seemed to be wracked with suffering, in great distress. In waking life I found John Paul II intimidating, too demanding, in the way an Anglican might with a fanatical Pole or Spaniard. But when he died in 2005, we were in awe. Clearly, he would be John Paul the Great.