dear mary

Holy Mary, Mother of God, and my mother too.
I thank you for seeing me my whole life,
for being present for me,
even though I didn’t know you,
and wasn’t allowed to.

Please forgive my own resentment and distrust of you,
and for hanging around despite my being obnoxious,
because that’s what a mother does.
I didn’t know I needed a mother,
despite my mother issues.
I said I was just fine,
which was a lie to cover up the void.

Thank-you for being here for all of us,
me, and my community of personalities,
and for helping us sort out this mess.
Thank-you for being here even for the personalities
that don’t want anything to do with you yet,
I believe that in the end,
they all will,
because you are here and have been here
and are invested in our healing.

Mary, Undoer of Knots,
thank-you for the untangling that you have already done
and for the untangling you continue to do,
despite the hostility of some of us.

Our Lady of the Rosary,
thank-you for showing me your son,
and for showing my alters your son also,
without you they wouldn’t be able to see him.
Thank-you for being with me,
even though I didn’t know it at the time.

Our Lady of Sorrows,
thank-you for being with me,
with all of us,
in our sorrow and suffering
which you know all about.
You know suffering,
you know grief,
and you were there then,
as you are now.
Thank-you for your comfort.

Our Lady of Fatima,
you made your appearance
to regular children,
living regular lives,
because you love children.
Thank-you for appearing to me
and to the rest of us.
It’s a comfort to know
that we are seen.

Our Lady of Guadalupe,
thank-you for the roses,
the ones you gave to Juan Diego,
and the ones you gave to me,
the waterlily also.

Mary, Queen of Heaven,
you know our involvement with hell,
and the underworld,
and I’m grateful that,
while the goddess Persephone
considers herself important as the Queen of Hell,
that light overcomes darkness
and that hell gives way to heaven
that you have already defeated Persephone.

Our Lady of Grace
who crushes the head of Satan,
you are a badass.

I love you.

Published by MaryClare StFrancis

MaryClare StFrancis is a writer who sounds as boring as hell but who is intimately acquainted with the horrific and the sacred. For a long time, darkness has been her friend, but she now walks in the light of Christ. As a committed Episcopalian, her main contribution to the church is her ability to make the priests facepalm or swear, depending on the day and context. MaryClare has a Master of Arts in English and Creative Writing and lives in Mississippi with her four children.

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