A Perpetual Light

 

He wasn't the first Father of our church when we moved to town but came a year or two later when the first one was reassigned. I still remember shaking his hand after mass that first Sunday and introducing myself while pondering how in the world he would remember all of us. That turned out not to be an issue for Father. He soon knew my name, that we shared similar backgrounds of being raised on rural farms and many other details. 

Over the years, I served for him in the church in a variety of ways but mostly as an usher on Sundays. I had the pleasure of serving with him on a counsel and a school board. Like me, he was slow to anger, always able to find common ground to keep things peaceful and moving in a productive manner and for the most part, kept his counsel unless asked directly but would always share his opinion if asked. 

Over the years, he frequently was invited out to our house for dinner, often times as part of a larger gathering but occasionally just him. We never lacked in conversation and he was one of those rare people who can hold a conversation easily due to his wide scope of knowledge yet not always trying to do all the talking. 

Father got cancer in his knee at the same time my mother got cancer in her brain. Both of them spent time in a house built especially for cancer patients who came from far away for treatments and so got to know each other. Mom would say she couldn't talk with him often because he was always surrounded by ladies wanting his attention. Whenever I told that story to Father, he always chuckled.

Father retired a couple years ago and moved down to Kansas City where his order the Precious Blood is located. They have their own retirement community there for priests and we have stopped by several times over the last couple years for a visit, always bringing him some food when we come. Our last trip, earlier this spring, he gave us the above pendant thing which we have attached on one of our living room windows. He buys these kits of "jewels" and sticks them one at a time over the hummingbird's glass body in a beautiful pattern that reflects sunlight. I always think of him when it catches my attention.

During our last visit, he said he was entering under the care of hospice. His cancer had returned earlier, which we knew about, but he told us the last treatments had been ineffectual. At the surface, he looked good though I did notice at the time that he was easily out of breath.

Word came yesterday morning that he had transferred into a hospice facility and expressed wishes that he no longer wished for visitors and wanted to die in peace. He did just that this morning less than 24 hours later.

May the perpetual light shine upon Father.