MONDAY MORNING was always the worst. It was not just that，<br > being a member of the clergy， I found the day after Sunday a letdown.<br > Partly it was memory: my late husband， Patrick， also a member of the<br > clergy， needed more wifely reassurance and general affirmation on<br > Monday morning than on any other day. Sunday， the busiest day of his<br > week， he woke up exalted， ready to do the Lord s work， the parish s<br > work， and to be father， husband， brother， son and all-purpose friend to<br > a vast number of people who would turn up at the ten-th rty service to<br > tell him (1) how wonderful he was， (2) that their problem (whatever it<br > was) had come to a nasty head and they needed to have a private<br > conference with him immediately or (3) they didn t wish to be nega-<br > tive， but felt that he， Patrick， would want them always to be honest，<br > and with that in mind they (or he or she) felt called upon to state that<br > his (Patrick s) sermons were not as good as they used to be.<br > Patrick took all that in his stride as he shook hand after hand. He<br > always had two Comments that he felt could cover any contingency<br > (excluding personal tragedy): "Thank you very much for letting me<br > know how you feel" and/or Tll take it up with the vestry."<br > Which makes him sound cynical--which he wasn t. Far from it. A<br >product of the sixties， Patrick came to the Episcopal priesthood out of<br >the civil-rights and anti-war movements. He was an idealistic activist，<br >and he remained that， more or less， for all of his short life. Becoming<br >rector of a parish did not dent his idea/ism， but it did bring him up<br >short behind tiresome and depressing details， such as trying to pay the<br >heating bill for the church and parish house and having to draw up an<br >annual budget when people felt it against their principles to pledge<br >