It's a special grace for me and my family this year to have this Easter Octave, all eight days of it, as a message of hope. Over the weekend we all converged on a hospital in New Orleans, where Mom is in ICU with a pneumonia that caught all of us by surprise. At 85, Mom has never had a "health crisis" in her life. (Well, I take that back. She had scarlet fever when she was 12, but none of us go back that far.)
She was diagnosed on Good Friday; actually, when she woke up feeling excrutiatingly weak, she called me first to ask for prayers ("to St. Joseph," she specified), then called my sister (the nurse). I saw her via Skype on Saturday, and that was enough for me to contact the provincial superior for permission to come home. My sister thought I might be "some comfort" for Mom; instead, we are all comforting one another.
Needless to say, we'd all appreciate your prayers. To St. Joseph, if you don't mind.