Yesterday’s posting, Poetic Remnants, led Michelle to comment that there were some poems that she only knew “at a certain pace.” It reminded me of the only way I can recite the “Hail Holy Queen.”
As I grew up, my parents had separate bedrooms (his snoring, her insomnia). They would kiss goodnight, get into their beds and with their doors open say a Rosary together across the hallway. I often used to fall asleep listening to my parents racing through the Rosary. My father would begin “Hail Mary, full of grace” and my mother would immediately chime in with “Holy Mary, Mother of God…” so that they would be praying different halves of the Hail Mary at the same time.
They could “do” a five decade rosary in mere minutes and would end with: “Hailholyqueenmotherofmercyourlifeoursweetnessandourhopetotheedowecry-poorbanishedchildrenofEve…” To this day, the only way I can recite the whole prayer is in one breath.
Irish Catholicism at its finest.