This morning I motored over to the airport to farewell Peter, who is travelling to the U.S. for to join the Carmelite Monks of Wyoming. He had driven up from Bunbury, his home, with his parents, three sisters, and littlest brother, Guy (aged seven), who seemed very sad to see his big brother go. His maternal grandparents were also there; only his other brother, Tom, was unable to come. I was there to represent the Pro., since all of the good people associated with it were of course at Mass! (Fr Rowe and Aaron had gone down to Bunbury and back on Friday to wish Peter well.)
His plane left just after 10am; he was to fly on to Sydney, and then from there to Honolulu, from Honolulu to Denver, from Denver to Cody, WY, and then - by car - to the monastery. (I think he has probably left Australia by now, and is somewhere over the Pacific.) Peter reckoned it would take him 46 hours to get from his family home to the monastery.
So now I have a motive to travel to the States - somewhere, unlike Europe, I have never previously wanted to visit (no disrespect intended): "See ya, Pete. See ya in America some time."
His plane left just after 10am; he was to fly on to Sydney, and then from there to Honolulu, from Honolulu to Denver, from Denver to Cody, WY, and then - by car - to the monastery. (I think he has probably left Australia by now, and is somewhere over the Pacific.) Peter reckoned it would take him 46 hours to get from his family home to the monastery.
So now I have a motive to travel to the States - somewhere, unlike Europe, I have never previously wanted to visit (no disrespect intended): "See ya, Pete. See ya in America some time."
We're all going to miss old Peter.... At least we have a monk praying for us.
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