I usually go to a church closer to my house, but I've been to the cathedral many times. It is beautiful, inside and out. I don't pay close attention to mass at the cathedral, so it's good I don't attend there often. I study the stained glass windows. I wonder about how high the ceiling is, and daydream about just how did they put those paintings up there when the church was built before ladders were invented? (Well, probably!) Is there real gold in the walls? I think about why people sit in the way, way back when so many pews are empty in the way, way front. And can they hear better back there? I can't hear in the middle rows, but maybe I am just far from the speakers. Maybe I should sit in the back, too? Or if I were in the front, maybe I could hear the priest's actual voice and not need a speaker. There are many things to wonder about in the cathedral, you see.
Well, Nonie talked me into praying in the crypt. Actually, she didn't so much as talk me into it, because I never say no to Nonie, now that I'm an adult and all. (I was a stinker when I was a teenager.) I figured if anyone could protect me from ghosts of bishops long passed, it would be Nonie. (Nobody, not even ghosts, would bother Nonie, except stinky teenagers.)
So, we journeyed to the tomb and prayed. It was quite nice. I found a tiny chapel in the front of cathedral that I never knew existed. Downstairs, the crypt was calm and quiet. I'd like to go back and pray. There were no distractions! Cream-colored walls are too plain to wonder much about. Even the thought of the bishops resting in peace around me was no match for the glorious stained glass upstairs.
After prayers, we took pictures. Me, with my iPhone, Nonie, with her disposable kodak camera.