Category: Death

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coping Death Faith God Humor love Prayer Stength Trust

Who’s in Charge?

Last Saturday I was dusting the living room, when, on the table where the orchids stood, I found a card, just sitting there. It said, “Good Morning! This is God. I will be handling all your problems today. I will not need your help, so enjoy your day.”

I looked up, I looked around. I don’t know where the card came from or how it got there (my husband was on a camping trip with our son and grandson, so there was no one to ask), but the warmth I felt from reading that card, was indescribable.

I promptly set down my duster, sauntered into the kitchen and made a cup of tea. Basking in that warmth, I sipped my tea while reading a good book. In time I wandered back into the living room and looked around.

“Ah,” I said, looking heavenward, “my strong aversion to house-work is not one of those problems you were talking about. Deeper problems are more your concern. I get it.”

Still, those kind words had lifted me up and I did have that nice little respite with the cup of tea, so I was refreshed and ready to resume the task at hand.

How often do we forget who’s in charge? How often do we go through our days with lists of things we must do, people we must see, jobs we must complete, with no thought of God and what he has in mind for us?

Or, do you ever have this feeling? An overwhelming sense that you are doing God’s will. You get all puffed up with this thought, immersed in this sense of the Divine that you sit back, bringing your work to a standstill.  Well that’s not what God has in mind either. We may feel his commendation, his support, but he does expect us to get the work done.

The problems he offers to handle for us are the heavy ones, the burdens too heavy for us to carry alone. Over time, we begin to wonder how we can possibly get through – tragedies, illnesses, deaths of our loved ones…

“Good morning!” he says, “This is God. I will be handling all your problems today, I will not need your help, so enjoy your day.” If we sit in quiet contemplation, we will know this; we will know he is there, we will feel his presence. We don’t need a little card sitting on a table to remind us that God is always there for us. Still, a card from a loved one is always welcome, isn’t it? Enjoy your day.

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Catholic coping Death Faith family God love Stength Trust

Love and Faith

Many years ago, the year after my brother-in-law died, my sister was visiting and when we got back to the house, I played a message that was left on the answering machine. It was from my son and he ended with, “I love you.” I looked at my sister, who heard the message too, “That,” I said, “has been happening ever since Jake died.” Tears immediately came to her eyes. Mine too.

Death touches us in many and varying ways. Our sons were in their early 20s when their uncle died. They’re in their late 30s now, they both end each phone conversation with, “Love you, mom.” And now their cousin has died. 10 – 11 years older than my sons, but the impact is great.

Amy’s funeral was at St. Mary’s church in Ayer, Massachusetts and the priest knew her well. His homily touched everyone – non-believers as well as the many congregants who came in shock and sorrow to say goodbye to a wonderful, giving and loving woman. Our sons were touched too. They, as so many did, commented on the priest’s homily.

‘God is love,’ he said, ‘and Amy lived that love that comes from God. Now Amy is gone and it is up to every one of us to fill that gap that’s left behind. All that she did; all the love that she gave; it’s up to us to fill that gap – to spread that love that she spread, wherever we can – in her honor.’ Our sons were listening, and they’ve taken those words to heart.

You know, we as parents do not have to preach, there’s really no need. We simply live our love and faith as best we can and let God do the rest. And do not think for a moment that God will not take care of things. Be still and know that I am God. Ps. 46.10

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Catholic coping Death Easter Faith family love Stength

REJOICE

Patti & meI hope you will indulge me. This is something I wrote four years ago, but never shared. Seeing as how my sister’s birthday fell on Easter Monday, it naturally came to mind.

I’ve made several attempts to begin this piece, but it does not come as easily as some. The winter was long and difficult and spring has been resistant, all of which reflects my mood – cold and dark, slowly emerging.  Through the winter months my sister’s health took a turn from which she could not come back.  The weight dropped off her, pain set in, but through it all, her faith, her fight and her humor never wavered.  She was a tremendous example to all the family of determination with grace and dignity.  Just as our mother had been 25 years before.  From Christmas on, my husband and I made plans to travel to Rhode Island to be with her, but storm after storm thwarted our efforts.   When the skies would clear, the temperatures would plummet, and then we feared returning to frozen pipes.  Finally, in early March we made the 11 hour journey and spent two days by her side.  The priest had already anointed her, her daughter and son-in-law from Switzerland were there and we knew the end was near.  In hushed voices, my niece and I talked.  “She’s afraid of dying,” Jessy said, sadly.  My niece did her best to give me time alone with my sister, but each time the house grew quiet, with just the two of us there, she would fall deeply asleep.  She was exhausted.  On the second and last day of our visit, she slept the entire time, waking only briefly.  When it was time for us to leave, I knew I had to say something that would comfort her, but what?  It had to be quick, but it had to calm her and ease her fears.

“Just rest,” I told her, “don’t worry about anything.”

“Oh, I wish,” she said.

“Patti,” I said, taking her hands in mine.  “You are loved.  You are so loved!  God is love – and that is all you need to think about.”

She died four days later, in complete peace, her family told me.

Now we are in the joyful Easter season! But before we could rejoice in Easter celebration, we had to first experience Christ’s agony and death.  Thankfully, our faith teaches us that the death of a loved one is not the end…but a new beginning.  And how can we not rejoice in that?

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Death family love Prayer Uncategorized

Going Back a Few Years (in loving memory)

Patti & meThis one’s going to be about my sister Patti.  Patricia Luca, the one we have been praying for since last June, when the doctors found a large mass in her colon which had spread to other vital organs in her body.  The impact for me at that time was like getting a phone call saying, ‘your sister has been in a car crash and we don’t think she’s going to make it.’  I’ve been reeling ever since.  The whole family is in shock – our baby sister. People ask me all the time, “How’s your sister doing?”  And I don’t know what to say.  Well, what I always say is, ‘if she walked into this room right now, you would not know she was sick.’  There’s a bounce to her step and a sparkle in her eyes that the gravest reports from her doctors cannot diminish. 

Patti has always towered over me and, consequently, most people assumed she was older, when we were growing up.  It’s not just her stature but her ability to commandeer a conversation.  If someone asked me a question, she would answer for me (when I was in my 20s even!).   It annoyed her, everyone always thinking she was the elder sibling, to which I would helpfully reply, “Well quit taking over every situation, why don’t you?”

There are four years between the two of us and it took a long time for us to become close.  It was my own friends, in high school, who liked having her around, hanging out with us.  She was funny and a good fit.  When she would come to visit me at university, in Boston, she charmed my roommates.  Walking down a city street, talking away, she would stop, mid-sentence, to say hello to a passerby.  She was in high school when my parents decided to move to our summer home in Maine year round.  I worried that my sister would never be able to live safely in a city again, she was too friendly and naïve.

When she was in university, she spent her junior year abroad, in Switzerland.  She studied German in preparation for her stay and found herself in a French speaking canton.  It took some time before her high school French came back to her, but when I arrived in March, to spend a month with her, she was fluent in both languages – German and French.  She amazed me then; she amazes me still.

Now, with three beautiful grown kids, she finds herself gravely facing mortality.  Patti does not focus on gravity, or mortality.  Her husband tells me how much the nurses love her when she goes for her chemo treatments.  ‘She’s got them laughing within minutes of her arrival.  She’s not their typical cancer patient,’ he says with a smile on a worried face.

I know so many of you are facing this very same situation.  I know each member of our parish family has a similar story to tell.  This is my story.  Thank you for your prayers, I will pray for you and the one that’s in your heart.

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Catholic Death love

Good Grief

Patti & me
I wrote this piece a year ago. It’s two years now since my sister died . I think of her every day and thoughts of her still make me smile. Patricia McDonald Luca – 2 April 1956 – 13 March 2014.

A year has passed, since my sister Patricia died.  Slowly, imperceptibly, it seems, healing is taking place.  I think of her daily and, though the hole in my heart is still felt, the pain is not as great.

I read something recently about grief, and how, when help is sought, treatment given might be as for one suffering from depression.  According to the psychologist and writer of the article – they are not the same thing, and should not be treated in the same way.

However, when we let our pain and grief take us to a dark place, then professional help should be sought.  Grieving is a necessary process to cope with loss, but when it consumes us, when it prevents us from living our lives, it can spiral down into a dark depression that is far more serious than grief.  I chose to look at this subject because many of my friends and acquaintances have lost loved ones recently.  In this past year, so many of your family members and so many of our parish family have died.  We are surrounded by those who have lost spouses, siblings, parents and children.  Death is never an easy thing to face,  but hopefully we can find comfort in knowing that we are not alone in our sorrow and loss, this is a part of life that we all encounter.

In our travels recently, my husband and I attended mass at St. Mary of the Assumption, in Huntsville, and, as I love to do, I took one of their bulletins, just to see how others do things.  Right in the middle of the first page was a quote that touched my heart: “Those who die…are no further from us than God, and God is very near.”

I believe this to be true and I think this is why the pain is lessening.  I often feel Patti’s presence.  Sometimes it’s a nudging; pushing me to do and try things I have not done before.  Other times it’s her voice, “Really, you’re going to wear that?”  My sister had a delightful sense of humour and that is what I miss most, that and our long phone conversations that left us aching from laugther; our ears hurting from holding the phone against them for hours at a time.

Yes, loss is painful, but life continues on in spite of our loss and grief.  The world moves forward and we must move with it; move beyond ourselves.  Easter approaches and our faith calls us to rejoice – in the Good News, in the Risen Christ, and in our departed loved ones sharing in God’s promise!