Two significant Catholic days separated by a quick, single … one second. “All Saints” followed by “All Souls.” As though they are not the same, we need to separate them.
 Separate? Apart? Not the same? Not equal? Not in my world.

Like any young person and now an older one, you still and always begin with your parents and then move onward meeting others throughout your life.

My Dad did not have a wheel with spikes rolled over his body. (Catherine of Alexandria.) Mom was never beheaded (unlike how many other saints) but, sorrowfully, beheaded herself through her unreconcilable lifelong pains that haunted and hindered her from the person she aspired to be.

Both souls? You bet. Both saints? You can bet once again. My gentle, super-introverted, quiet dad provided a home for five loud kids. As adult children, he sat next to our kitchen fireplace, smoking his cigar and intently listened to the recent dramas from each of us. Each without opinion or comment. Mother? Never missed preparing nutritious meals for five growing children complete with ingredients and vitamins unheard of in the fifties. Both souls or are saints? You judge.

Yet, please don’t judge. We have only one Judge. Our life’s gift is to observe and look at all the souls we encounter and then witness the saintliness they show us. I encountered many souls during my years and, yes, I’ve also been keenly respectful for the sainthood that each one possesses.

It takes the Church generations to generate a saint while we come across souls every single day. What is the distance between the two? One second. Or, is it a single, selfless moment or a lifelong friendship that that soul becomes a saint?

In writing this, I recall many saints/souls persons in my life. They don’t have a Church’s date but they have me. They have me every day. They help me look in the morning mirror while brushing my teeth wondering if I’ll remain a soul and will I be a saint?

Or, better yet, why can’t I be both?