Poppy's girlfriend

For my cynical and/or atheist readers, I'm certain this blog post will sound ridiculous.

But, sometimes, you just have to believe there's something beyond you.

A few years ago, when my grandfather died, I wrote a blog post about him and mentioned his devotion to the Blessed Mother. In fact, shortly before he went off to World War II, he and my grandmother — also a Mary devotee — prayed to the Virgin Mary, asking for her intercession to protect my grandfather during the conflict. If he came home safely, they promised to name their children after Mary or St. Joseph, her husband.

Indeed, Poppy and Baba (as the grandchildren called them) had three girls: Mary Louise, Ann Marie (my mother), and Jeanne Marie.

For those unfamiliar with Catholic traditions, there are certain depictions of the Blessed Mother. They're all the same person, but as there are many people and many cultures in this world, she appears differently depending on whom you're talking about.

(And I don't feel like getting into why praying to Mary is not "statue worship," but think of it like this: If you ask your friend to help you move, he or she might not do it. Ask your friend's mother to ask your friend to help you move, there's a better chance they'll help you out.)

Anyway, the particular depiction of Mary to which my grandparents were devoted is the Mother of Perpetual Help. (In fact, my grandfather referred to her as his "girlfriend.") The Redemptorists were big devotees to this image, and the church in which my grandparents grew up was run by the order of priests and brothers.

So, it's safe to say that I have been familiar with this image since a young age, but it's not the sort of thing you're going to find in every church or religious setting.

Here's where the image really started playing a big part in my life. I'm 17 and my family and I are in Dayton, Ohio, visiting the University of Dayton. The place is run by the Marianists, and in fact my other grandfather was once studying to join the order at UD. I'd not actually considered the school, though, until the daughter of a friend of my father graduated from there and spoke highly of it.

However, I wasn't totally convinced. It was eight and a half hours from Baltimore, and no one else I knew had ever heard of it, let alone thought about attending.

We're touring the campus and we go into a chapel in one of the dormitories. Stained glass windows and small altar aside, it looks like an office. I glance around, then turn to leave.

On the wall next to the door was an image of the Mother of Perpetual Help.

It gave me pause. I pointed it out to my mother. She smiled.

I graduated from UD in 2001.

Flash forward to late April 2009. I had been dating this girl for a few weeks after being introduced courtesy of a crappy computer program and New Kids On The Block. I was living in Hanover, Pa., and she was an hour and 45 minutes away in Selinsgrove, Pa.

They always say long-distance relationships are tough to maintain, and I've watched a few crumble. I was a little uncertain where my relationship with Jen would go.

It was the first time I had been to her house. I walk up to the door and ring the bell, but then I glance inside the window next to the door.

There, on the wall inside, was an image of the Mother of Perpetual Help.

"Oh, OK," I recall saying, actually feeling my eyes well up a little. "I see."

Jen and I were married in June 2011.

We now have two children: Sophie Marie and Annabelle Rose.

And now we're living in Jen's hometown in South-central Pennsylvania, going to the church in which she grew up.

Admittedly, this move has been difficult. It took far longer than we expected to sell our old house in Clarks Summit. Having a toddler, and now an infant, living in the same house with five adults has been challenging. Job changes and work schedules, coupled with health issues and the usual trials of daily life, have worn on me.

They've worn on all of us.

Anyway, walking into the back of the church after we moved to town, I glanced at a large framed icon hanging on the wall next to the door.

There, looking down at me with those dark eyes, a look of peace on her face, was Poppy's girlfriend.

I gave her a wink and smiled.

This is where we're supposed to be.