The Mount College Chapel
These past two weeks have been busy
with me going hither and yon for health and recreation. Thus, I didn’t post
last Thursday and this week I haven’t visited any of your blogs. I hope to do a
“blog marathon” this weekend and catch up.
Now to today’s
posting.
The
past two weeks revealed to me that my memory is sometimes—maybe often—faulty.
In the last few postings, I’ve given you certain seasons and years when I
corresponded with the convent and with Rome. But I’ve discovered that time frame
was inaccurate.
Here’s how the
discovery was made: While sorting the contents of my safety deposit box, I
discovered letters from the papal prelate and Mother Mary Austin concerning my
being released from my vows. That’s when I learned that I’d given you an
incorrect time frame. The letters also revealed just how kind both the prelate
and the prioress were and how much they wanted nothing but surety and peace of
mind for me.
In this posting
and perhaps one or two more, I’d like to share that cache of letters with you.
I don’t have the ones I wrote because those are probably in the Mount archives,
but you will see from the concerns expressed by Mother Mary Austin and the
prelate that I was indeed confused and torn by the decision I was making.
The interior of the Mount College Chapel.
The first sharing I'll do from that cache is not a letter but a document called “Permission for Exclaustration,” which
simply means “permission to leave the convent.”
Sister M. Innocence (Dolores) Ready, O.S.B., of Mount St.
Scholastica, Atchison, Kansas, by letter of December 5, 1966, has, for a just
cause, requested permission to live outside the religious community for a year.
By reason of the authority granted to Major Superiors by the Hold
See through #4 of the Decree to Lay Religious Institutes, I am, with the
consent of my Council, granting you permission to be absent from the Religious
House for not more than a year.
You will be expected to put off the religious habit when you
leave, and when you have established yourself in some location will notify the
Ordinary of the place of your state as an excloistered religious and will be
subject to him in obedience.
Although an adequate sum is given by the Community to cover your
immediate needs, you will be expected to seek suitable employment and thus to
maintain yourself throughout the year.
May God be pleased to show you His will and to grant you peace.
Approved by the Council of Mount St. Scholastica, Atchison,
Kansas, this 20th day of December, 1966.
Mother Mary
Austin, the prioress, signed the document on the 20th. Three days later I went
to her office to read and sign it. Below her name came the following:
“On this
date, December 23, 1966, I accept the permission for exclaustration for one
year as indicated above.”
As I signed the
document, two nuns witnessed my signature.
In my posting of
October 30, I indicated that I saw—for the first time—the “Ordinary,” that is,
the Cincinnati bishop, nearly a year and a half later—in 1968. But it’s clear
from this letter that I was supposed to notify him of my presence in the Ohio diocese
when I moved to Dayton in January 1967. I didn’t do so.
Did I forget? Was
I just being obstreperous? I don’t know. I can’t remember. But it’s interesting
to me that I began my year’s leave with disobedience. Why? Because of the five
vows I made in the convent it was the vow of obedience that caused me to
stumble again and again. I was not always able to bend my will to the vision of
a superior.
Next week I’ll
share another letter or two or three with you.
Peace.
Dee, I think memory becomes unreliable for all of us as we age, so it's hardly surprising you get some of the details wrong sometimes. I know I do in my own posts. The Permission for Exclaustration is indeed formal and rather distant as any official document will tend to be, but through it comes a concern that you find the right path for yourself. As far as your failure to notify the bishop is concerned, with so many changes happening all at once, it's to be expected that some would have lesser priority in your mind.
ReplyDeleteDear Perpetua, I sort of think--I have a distinct feeling--that when I left the convent I turned a new page and put the final days there behind me. I suspect that the reading I did of the document the other day was the first since I read it before signing on December 23rd, 1966. I just wanted to sleep at first for days and weeks. Peace.
DeleteLife must have so difficult for you then. I'm so glad you became the Dee that we all love now!!
ReplyDeleteDear Fishducky, I suspect that leaving the convent was like getting divorced for many women and men also. Leaving behind the familiar and known. And that's difficult for most of us. Peace.
DeleteLooking back, looking at those documents, it's so clear why you had such mixed feelings and why that was such a difficult time: to be outside the convent yet still subject to the Church, to be expected to earn your own living and yet to give a major portion back to this bishop. Personally, I'm glad you delayed contacting him, disobeying from the start of your leave. It seems to me that there are times when blind obedience is detrimental to one's well-being. You were too intelligent and independent in spirit, despite your deep and abiding spirituality, to go along with the official protocol.
ReplyDeleteDear Kathy, I may also have been too scrupulous in the way I tried to live the vows and to follow the rules. I've always been somewhat of an "all or nothing" person. Moderation is not my second nature. Peace.
DeleteWell---I don't know much about the Catholic Church or what you went through or was expected to do or not to do.. BUT-I think they were very harsh with you (and controlling) when you wanted out.... It's almost as if they 'owned' you--and I guess, to some extent, they did... I cannot ever imagine living a life like that... Glad you did get out.
ReplyDeleteHugs,
Betsy
Dear Betsy, the letter I'll put in next week's posting will truly show that Mother Mary Austin wasn't harsh. She felt such compassion for what I was going through and only wanted to help me. Peace.
DeleteIt is so interesting to me that the paths of our lives, different in the extreme, could come together thanks to blogging and a cat named Dulcy.
ReplyDeleteDear Inger, it's that poem by Robert Frost, "two roads diverged in a yellow wood and I? I took the one less traveled by and that made all the difference." We both took our roads and what we didn't know was that they would meet up through the sweetness of a beloved cat named Dulcy. Peace.
DeleteYour life and times must have been quite a jumble back then. May still be...as are most lives.
ReplyDeleteI echo Fishducky.
Dear Susan, life was a jumble because life outside the convent had changed during the sixties and I hardly recognized it. But as you say, life seems mostly to be jumble! Peace.
DeleteMemory is often a trickster - and when you are going through a turbulent range of emotions (as you surely were) even more so.
ReplyDeleteI am so very glad that you found your feet - and yourself.
Dear Sue, yes, a "turbulent range of emotions" can color our memories and they surely did during the final months I was in the convent and the months afterward also. Peace.
DeleteThank you for sharing. I know so little about the process. All of your posts pull us right in.
ReplyDeleteDear Lori, this cache of letters will certainly help me complete the manuscript for the convent memoir on which I"m working. I hope that it will help those who don't know much about nuns to understand the life in a religious community. Peace.
DeleteI know my own recollections are clouded by time and distance. I am not surprised that it happened to you too. And as others have said, I am so glad you have found yourself and give yourself so freely to those of us who follow you. :-)
ReplyDeleteDear DJan, next week I'm going to post a letter from the prioress. It, too, reveals that I was really closed down at the time and that my perceptions were faulty. Peace.
DeleteI'm glad you found the letters to help with your memory, and I'm glad you were disobedient because I'm the naughty type.
ReplyDeleteLove,
Janie
Dear Janie, yes, I suspect that both you and I have a hard time "toeing" the line! Peace.
Deletelife had to be a pain but you got through as we all must do. Memory can be fickle some days haha
ReplyDeleteDear Pat, the wonder if that people whose lives have really been shattered--by drive-by shootings and abuse and war and all the things that we read about in the paper each day--still, somehow, survive. Peace.
DeleteAs for me, I seriously doubt that it is important the actual year that you did things (or the season). What is most vital is the details you include that tell of your state of mind and what was going on around you in the world at the time. I love that you found the letters - what a treasure trove that must have been! Hope you are well now.
ReplyDeleteDear Kari, next week's posting really will reveal my "state of mind" at the time I left. My state of mind and the feelings of the prioress. And yes, these letters and documents are truly a "treasure trove." Peace.
DeleteDee: How interesting to read the formal statements from the heirarchy. They sound so dignified and almost impersonal for such an emotional decision. For me, things that happened even yesterday will be gone from my memory but other momentous things stick. It isn't the exact date that matters - just the outcome. This was a good decision for you.
ReplyDeleteDear Judy, I tend to think that most legal/formal statements sound dignified and stuffy and pretty impersonal--as if it's robots the document is about.
DeleteI do not regret my decision to leave, but at the time I was so conflicted because I truly embraced the idea of monasticism. Peace.
Memory is a strange beast. I recently met a friend I hadn't seen for 35 years and we both had different memories of the same event.
ReplyDeleteDear Annie, that happens with my brother and me. He's three years younger and sometimes when we talk about our growing up it's like we were in two different households! Peace.
DeleteI was also surprised at how formal the letter was. It's a good thing that you kept it. Unfortunately, my memory fails me at times, too. Aahhh... the joys of aging. Have a great weekend... :)
ReplyDeleteDear Dee, what I posted was really not a letter but a legal document and so it was dry. Next week I'll publish a letter from the prioress that's much warmer. I hope your weekend is being as restful as mine is right now. Peace.
DeleteOnce again, you make is feel as if we were there in these moments with you. What incredible writing...
ReplyDeleteDear Keith, thank you for enjoying my writing. I'm working on a convent memoir right now and need all the support I can get. Writing the first draft isn't easy. In a recent "The New Yorker" essay, the writer John McPee recounts how he spent two years once writing a first draft and then got the 2nd, 3rd, and 4th done in six months. I'm hoping that will happen for me! Peace.
DeleteFinding and reading old letters from the past is often enlightening. Words cannot always express the emotions we are feeling but our memories keep the pain and joy we have experienced. This is where your writing comes from and whether you, dear Dee were off on dates or whatever, you wrote from your heart and that is where the whole truth exists.
ReplyDeleteDear Arleen, I agree with you that the truth lies in our heart and in the feelings something called forth from us. That's what I'm trying to share in the convent memoir manuscript that I completed in October. I'm now working on rewriting the 2nd draft. Peace.
DeleteI agree with most that the actual dates are not that serious. It is the events you relate so well that are important to us. I didn't realize they gave you a stipend when you left. Before following your blog, I had mistakenly thought to be a nun was optional and leaving would be a simple matter of just walking away. How wrong I was. It is almost reminiscent of the military. Looking forward to learning more.
ReplyDeleteDear Arkansas Patti, actually, the convent didn't give me a stipend. My mom and dad bought me a winter coat, a pair of pumps, hose, a purse, a hat, and gloves. My sister-in-law was pregnant and she loaned me her all the other clothes I needed. I remember this because I was so concerned about their spending the money because they had so little.
DeleteI guess that Mother Mary Austin must have offered me a stipend and I turned it down. Why would I do that? I simply can't remember. But I do remember going into Jones--which was later bought by Macy's--and Mom outfitting me for the winter weather.
Peace.
I wouldn’t worry about your selective memory. We do tend to swish and swash our memories together and no two people ever remember an event the same way.
ReplyDeleteBut I suppose you have to believe your letters.
I wonder, did you think them a little on the ‘detached' side at the time?
Dear Friko, the document does sound formal and detached. However, the letter from Mother Mary Austin, which will be part of next week's posting, is warm and understanding. Peace.
DeleteOh this was a great post indeed what we experience in life makes us who we are
ReplyDeleteDear Jo-Anne, we are, I think, the sum total of our experiences and our response to them. Peace.
DeleteIt is interesting that you just now discovered the letter, Dee, especially with where you writing is taking you right now. I think we read things, the same thing, differently at various stages in our life. Perhaps right now you are really reading it for the first time. Whatever it may be, I do think you made the right decisions and have done so much good with your life.
ReplyDeleteDear Penny, the document in this posting as well as the letters I found in my safety deposit box will really help me rewrite the last part of my convent memoir. It's exciting for me because it means that the memoir will have more "truth" in it. Peace.
DeleteMemories will do that to us. It's nice you found the letters, it does help. As for leaving, I do think you made the right choice!
ReplyDeleteLinda
http://coloradofarmlife.wordpress.com/?s=The+Adventures+of+Fuzzy+and+Boomer&submit=Search
http://coloradofarmlife.wordpress.com
Dear Linda, yes, I, too, think the choice was the right. But I will always appreciate and be grateful for the years I spent in the convent and the love I experienced from many of the nuns. Peace.
DeleteI find it really interesting that you have this chance to review your past with fresh eyes. So many stories in our memories are faulty, but it's not always possible to find evidence that helps us determine the inaccuracies. We all have faulty memories, especially in times of stress. I think it's easy to understand that you were young and so ready to be free that you didn't take any restrictions seriously. You are so dear to share the letters with us and to be honest in the re-telling of some of the story. It's definitely good to hear that you were treated with kindness and I'm looking forward to your next post, my friend. ox
ReplyDeleteDear Debra, I think the surprise came for me when I found the letters, realized I'd saved them, and realized also that I hadn't read them since receiving them--so nearly 50 years had passed. And I suspect that I read them quickly and with a bias. Peace.
DeleteObedience is something I believe a lot of us have difficulties with from time to time. Speaking for myself, of course.
ReplyDeleteDear Carol, it's true, most of us have trouble with authority sometimes! Peace.
DeleteI find that my memories of any period of time that was traumatic are skewed by the event. My sisters and talk about that often and how we all have very different memories of the same event!
ReplyDeleteThose letters will serve you well!