Pull Up Your Goddamn Pants: Caps Edition
It's Where You Buy Your Dugs

A Collection of Souls

I had to do Mom's final tax return last month, which meant that I had to root around in the records a little bit. I found her wallet in the blue steel records box and went through it to ensure that there wasn't anything else that I needed to take care of. (I suppose it's time to throw it out, but I can't quite do that yet.)

At any rate, I found her stash of prayer cards -- 23 of them. At Catholic funerals, these little cards are provided as remembrances of the deceased.


The cards generally have a holy image on the front and a prayer on back, along with the name of the person and the date of the death. Some of them have Jesus, several have the Blessed Mother, a couple have nature scenes.

This one is oldest one in the collection; it's the prayer card for my paternal grandmother, who died on December 31, 1929. The front says "Death can never separate those who are bound together by the ties of pure love."


This one commemorates my brother, Johnny, who died October 25, 1950. I never knew him; he died two years before I was born.


She also has my Pop's card (of course) and her nephew's card, and the card from the pastor of the church. She has the prayer card for my gramma's best friend, who died in 1974. The rest memorialize her friends, except for this one:


I'm not sure what to do with them -- well, I'll keep the family ones of course -- but it seems a little disrespectful to just throw the rest away. They remain little pieces of memory, remnants of lives. I suppose I could add them to mine.

Yes, I have some too; my own little collection of souls.