Finding Lori
On July 7, 2021, I had a very special dream, it may be like one you have had – wanting to remember all the details the next morning perhaps to jot down a name, place or sensation. Faintly, but clearly, I heard the name, Saint Gerard. This name was unfamiliar to me; and yet it was the part of the dream I remembered most vividly and which captured my imagination.
The next morning, I went to the local library to inquire about my new, treasured memory. My first stop was to the reference desk to inquire if there was saint by the name whispered in the dream. I preferred to have the information read to me, as I did not want to confuse the name Saint Gerard with Saint Jerome. The reference librarian confirmed that, indeed, Saint Gerard Majella, is an honored saint, in the Catholic tradition. His intercession is sought for children, unborn children, mothers and expectant mothers, and good confessions. He is the Patron of Motherhood.
I began to ponder, as to what this occurrence could mean. I considered several possibilities. There were three young children in my family and an expectant mom, due to give birth to a second son, in October 2021. But in the larger context, my interpretation of the dream was unclear. He was born April 6, 1726, in Muro Lucano, Italy, and he died October 16, 1755 (aged 29) of tuberculosis.
I learned that he has two prayer cards: Prayer Safe Delivery the Patron and Protector of expectant mothers; and, Prayer for Motherhood. Further inquiry led me to The Saint Gerard Majella, novena and prayer booklet. It lists different prayer petitions for which people may seek his intercession. There was one which stood out to me… Wonderful protector of unbaptized children. Since I do not have children, and I am not a mom, I was intrigued as to why this particular saint had come to me? Or, had he brought me to him?
I sat in stillness, at the library, for a few moments. A memory of my mother flashed into my mind. She had a different experience. One time in the past, in 1960, had a stillborn daughter. My parents, regretfully, did not experience healing or closure for their baby girl…she was named Lori. The church did not help back then, in 1960. When my parents sought the advice of a priest, they were told of that if child loss occurred before baptism (death in the womb), the baby would be sent to limbo (the Latin limbus - meaning to the edge). This response left them with sadness for the rest of their lives. It weighed heavily on their minds, as they were devout Catholics. The topic had been off limits, and we always respected my mother’s wishes to keep it that way. It was too painful. Never really knowing the circumstances of what transpired on March 16, 1960, only the result, we never visited the grave site.
I had many questions about limbo. Why is a soul sent there? How long does this soul remain there? What role does the sacrament of baptism play? Was the information given to my parents, in 1960, correct? I did not believe the answer, in 1960, was the final answer. I had a mindful intention to seek the advice of a priest to receive a modern view. Finding the best priest to answer these lingering questions, became a quest.
I felt at ease in his presence, and my mind and heart were open to his word. The priest, also my pastor, is a man of great insight and integrity. He listened intently, as I told him about Lori. He asked if my mother had spoken to a priest. “Yes.” I answered. “She was told her baby was in limbo. Father, is that true?” He asked about the possibility of baptism. I shook my head to indicate the answer was no, and, explained that she was stillborn. He took a long pause to think this through. Then went on to say “she may be in heaven.” I caught my breath and asked, “really?” He nodded… yes. This was the answer I wish my parents had received, as it would have provided some level of healing and comfort. I did not question his word. This new insight provided a strong impetus to search for her grave.
I contacted the Saint Ann cemetery office to request the section and lot number. This is how the cemetery is organized. I provided her full name and the date of March 16, 1960. The response, from a man’s voice… “the guardian angel section, which represents all infants, Section 23, grave marker 225. This is a very old part of the cemetery, and you may not find the grave, easily.” I headed off to the cemetery; and, once inside, I began to look for the weathered-grey statue, off to the east, by the lake. It stood as a landmark, as my mother would always put it out to us to say that Lori was buried in baby land. That section turned out to be Section 23. The narrow roads, towards the Chapel, were familiar to me. I had seen them many times, while attending funerals of family members and friends. Now, to finally visit her grave site, after 60 years, gave me the chills. As I approached her section, the form of the statue became clear. It was that of an angel. Although this marked closure, my sadness remained.
The connection to this land felt incredibly empowering. Walking just 20 steps, my gaze was down to locate the tiny grave marker, 225. I was told by the cemetery office that this was a communal grave, and I became aware that there were other little ones were buried alongside her. I began to speak to her…offering prayers of gratitude.
This reunification with Lori was a divine happening. The discovery of Saint Gerard had brought me here…to reclaim something, from the past, that had been long lost. I had found a piece of my family history. God had made a place for her! I could feel something stirring inside me, and, I decided to write about this event. It would be a story about hope…not defeat. I had discovered something tangible, and it was remarkable!
I had not given any thought as to how I might feel, or to where this initial visit would lead me…spiritually or emotionally. Each time I come to visit, I leave with a little less sadness and a bit more understanding. Blessed Saint Gerard Majella, had given to me a gift of faith. Perhaps, he had been here all long.
Closing Thoughts
It is striking, and a bit eerie, that Lori’s grave number and my street address are the same…225. I discovered a flat, grey, granite stone, off to the right of her grave, eight feet or so, with a name engraved in uppercase…CINDY. There is no number or markings on this stone. The cemetery office has no information, and, seemed particularly irritated about my inquiry. The mysterious CINDY stone, as I call it, is the same name as mine!
This serendipitous event, now woven into the tapestry of my life’s story, continues to be a source of inspiration and hope. I wanted to share it with you to give you something to think about. Perhaps, you are living with heartbreak or a mind at unease or unrest. Take heart! Pick up your pen and start writing your story – one that aligns with your values and strengths. Does it sound like your voice? Does it resemble you on the written page? Allow your truth and light to shine. This may be the process by which you can emerge stronger.
You are not alone. Encouragement and support through the difficult terrain of child loss are available. Find a trustworthy resource. One that resonated with me was Red Bird Ministry, a grief support ministry (www.redbird.love). A true healer will allow you to speak about painful situations. Consider taking a writing course or working with a tutor. It could be a memoir or creative writing class. It will be extremely beneficial, as you will be able to keep track of details and twists and turns in the writing.
Finding Lori is dedicated to my parents. It was written from February 13, 2021, to February 24, 2024.
Special thanks to Donna, Tammy, Father Wilson, Father John Paul Mary, and Red Bird Ministries.
Cynthia Thurston loves spending time with her nieces and nephews. She is a trained wellness and personal development coach who prides herself on being compassionate and empathetic. She hopes this story can help those who are hurting.
