I know I’ve mentioned in passing my love of old churches. No trip is complete without one. Or two. Given my lack of religious upbringing, I used to feel awkward in churches. To be honest, I was always pretty happy/relieved when the doors didn’t slam shut as I approached and a booming voice (in my head, it’s totally Gandalf, given the words) stating, “You..Shall..Not..Pass.!!”
Now, however, I feel at home. Perfectly at ease and peaceful. If it’s a Catholic church, I light a candle for my dad. I’ve even lit one recently (in NY) for my mom, too, even though she wasn’t Catholic. For me, it’s a lovely moment of peace, love & devotion. If they are less than happy, they are invited to come scold me. Seriously, mom and dad, bring it.
This photo is from St. Patrick’s Chapel, which is a tiny little building on the grounds of Glastonbury Abbey. It was a sanctuary from the rain, the tourists and the world. And, for one small moment, I was alone with my parents in England. Take care!