Can you imagine being widowed when you’re 30 years old, with four children, and then falling in love with a good man, wanting to marry, but deciding not to because he was already married?

This is a beautiful, powerful and inspiring story about Marguerite Watkins, whom I’m known for almost two years. Marguerite loves God with all her heart, and has such a pure heart that when I first arrived at Our Lady of the Assumption, on my first day after Mass, she walked straight up to me and gave me a big hug! She’s a spiritual pillar in our community and filled with the Holy Spirit. 

I never knew this part of Marguerite’s life until I read it a few days ago in the B.C. Catholic, written by her daughter, Colleen Roy. Reading this story brings tears to my eyes, because it’s heart-wrenching, but also inspiring, because when we do what’s right, we love like Jesus loves, and that gives peace and joy.

Marguerite once said to me jokingly about her daughter, “I want to be like her when I grow up.” It’s now clear to me that Colleen is who she is in large part because of who her mother is.

 

Colleen’s article:

There has been a lot of speculation lately about the supposed phone conversation that took place between our Holy Father, Pope Francis, and a woman unable to receive Holy Communion because of her non-sacramental marriage. Regardless of the fact that no one can even tell of its content or the Pope’s intention, and besides the fact that the supposed phone call is none of our business (yet here I am writing about it), there has been an overload of talk about it. Some say the pope is on his way to liberalizing teachings regarding marriage and divorce. Some of their hopes could be a bit of a stretch, as the pope has no power to change any of the Church’s teachings that are established as truth. But still they chatter on and muse on the wonderful, new, liberal possibilities ahead.

My mom was widowed at the age of 30. I was eight months old. When I imagine myself at the age of 30 starting a new chapter without a husband, but with four very young children, I almost break out into hives. I cannot fathom the strength and courage it would have taken for my mom to get up and get on with it. How did she stand there, changing my diapers, washing dishes, making sandwiches, and planning for the weekend, knowing that her beloved husband would never again walk in the door to join her? I honestly can’t even imagine.

Some years after my dad died my mom met a man. Andy was a wonderful Catholic man who loved my mom very much. They were best friends. He was a good man, and he was the closest thing I ever had to a father. He would take my mom out dancing and buy her flowers. He taught me how to dance in the living room, and bought me my first car. And he was divorced. And he didn’t have an annulment.

Because they truly believed he had grounds to receive an annulment they let themselves talk marriage before they should have. My mom now knows that that wasn’t the prudent thing to do. He tried more than once to obtain one, and was denied each time. As a young girl I can remember feeling so angry, so confused. Why would the Church deny these good Catholics the chance to love one another and be a family? Why couldn’t I have a dad?

I wasn’t the only one who was upset. People encouraged them to get married civilly and then request a Church blessing afterwards. Some priests even offered to marry them “quietly” (“Get thee behind me, Satan”, ring a bell?). I believe these people had the best of intentions, they believed that the annulment should have been granted and they presumed that God would understand an act, however disobedient, that only served to provide a husband to a widow, a father to four children, and an example of married love to the world.

My mom and Andy did not get married. I struggled for a long time with that, yet I still knew that their choice was based on the Truth of Christ’s church’s teachings. By their own free will they were Catholics, assenting that the Catholic Church upholds the Word of God. By their own free will they made the choice for Truth over desire, even though it was a good desire.

I have no idea how much pain this choice caused them, but I do know that they never seemed resentful to the Church, they never talked down her teachings in my hearing. For this I will always be truly grateful.

No matter how badly I wanted a father I needed Truth more. Regardless of how justified I may have felt in wishing that they would sneak off and marry, what I needed from my mother was the example of holiness in the face of pain, obedience in the face of confusion, and the knowledge that she chose Christ when the world urged her toward sin. I saw that the road to sanctity is not easy, and that there are many roads, even beautiful ones, that can take us off the path. I saw that being a Christian can mean suffering for what is right, but that this same suffering can be the thing that leads to true happiness and God’s will.

I respect their choice, and uphold it as a witness and example of faith. Mostly I am grateful.

Thanks Ma, for choosing Truth.