Odd,
what some people say when offering their condolences. In an attempt to say something meaningful,
they stumble out what they think is kind and well-intentioned but sounds rude
instead. At my mother’s funeral, one
stark comment that stayed with me was, “You’re getting good at this.”
Good
at this? What
did that mean? Losing my family? Managing a funeral? Penning eulogies? I would
rather be good at anything else but this. I know those who said this to
me did not mean it to be rude, so instead of being offended, I try to understand
why they think I am “good at this.”
I
was in my early 30’s when my grandfather was dying from cancer. In their grief, my grandmother, mother, and
aunt hadn’t thought about getting him a priest to give him “Anointing of the
Sick,” what non-Catholics like to call Last Rites. I called my mother’s parish
priest and he came immediately. My grandfather died soon after. I like to think
he found comfort in this rite.
A
few years later, I did the same for my dear grandmother. As a matter of fact, I got her two priests. One came immediately after she was admitted
into the hospital after her heart attack, and the second one came later in the
day. At her bedside, I joked with her
though she was in a coma. She probably
thought we heathens had forgotten our obligation and she would face eternity
without her last rites. She too passed away soon after the second priest left, probably
relieved that we hadn’t forgotten our Catholic upbringing.
Years
later I did the same for my dad, my grandson, and my brother. I asked for priests or chaplains to come pray
with us so we could keep God and His angels close as our dear ones met their
ends on this earth. I know it gives those left behind comfort for I have seen
the sense of relief prayer gives them in their grief and loss.
Yes,
I am getting “good at this.” I could see
my mother was losing her battle here on earth the day she died, and as
difficult as it was to be strong and grown up and resolute, it would have been
unforgiveable to be anything but. If I
truly believe in Jesus Christ and life everlasting, then I had to be like Him
at that moment: committed to my task and mission, kind and compassionate, afraid
but brave. I only hope that when my time comes, someone does the same for
me.
Comments
Post a Comment