Love and Death And Winning at Tickle Tiger

 When we were growing up we would play this game called Tickle Tiger with my father.  We would all crawl around our rather large living room.  Dad would roar and chase us and if he caught us he would tickle us until we were giggling little slugs rolled into tiny balls on the floor.

For my sisters and brothers and me, it was the best game in the world.  Dad was a really big guy, over six feet tall and had played football in high school and college.  He had an amazing laugh that could make us laugh even before he got close enough to us to tickle us.   Dad would play until he had rendered us all senseless.

Sometimes mom would join the game.  When that happened dad would chase mom behind the couch, and it would become very quiet.  Eventually we would climb up onto the couch to look and we would find them; mom wrapped in dad's arms and they would be kissing.

Once when my younger brother Matt was three and we found them behind the couch he said " Dad you don't 'posed to kiss her you 'posed to tickle her, silly."  But I was six and much wiser and I knew that our game of Tickle Tiger was over, and mom had won.

My parents had an amazingly loving relationship.  They produced nine children, and were never embarrassed to show affection in front of us.  They often sat at the table in the morning over one last cup of coffee before dad had to leave for work holding hands and chatting about nothing in particular.

When I was 12, my dad got sick and a very tense year later died of a brain tumor.  My mother suddenly had to become totally chaste, not by her own choosing, but because of a circumstance beyond her control.    I had always hoped that she would find love again, but she always maintained that there was only one love for her in this world.    For the next 38 years she lived waiting for the day when she and my dad would be united once again.

When my mom died early last fall  (just days after her and dad's wedding anniversary) she was reunited with my dad.  They are buried together in a military cemetery, which means they share the same burial plot and headstone with dad's information on the front and mom's on the back.  When she was buried I could imagine dad's arms outstretched waiting to wrap them around mom in a loving and eternal embrace.  They are together forever.

I miss mom every day, but when I think about how they are buried, in that loving embrace, I realize that she is exactly where she has wanted to be for a really, really long time.   I know she is happy there.  The game is over,  mom has won again.

Happy Mother's Day mom.

Pax

When I Feel as Though I Should Be Doing Something . . .

why is it that prayer never seems to be enough?

I am sitting here just having heard some very devastating news about one of my dear friends; someone as close to me as one of my brothers, who is clinging to life and may not last the night.  I was told that no action is expected of me at this point, I needn't rush to his bedside in another state because he is surrounded by family.  Someone else is taking the responsibility of calling our little circle of friends, so I have no one to call.

I have nothing for my hands and mind to do that will help my friend in his time of great need.  I know that he is not fearing this last journey but I regret that I didn't find the time to see him one last time before the end.  We were supposed to all get together next weekend for our semi-annual weekend gathering.

So, I am sitting here, with nothing to do but pray, which in truth is so much that I can do for my friend, but somehow in the darkness of this night it seems like my words are so small.

God, be with my dear friend tonight as he comes to you.  Help him to let go of this mortal world and enter into his final rest.  Be with his family as they deal with his loss and absence in their lives.

Amen

Pax

First (and Last) Things

Richard John Neuhaus died today.

What more fitting way to memorialize him than to post a link to an article of his from First Things about, what else, death.

Born Toward Dying


Eternal rest grant unto him O Lord.

Pax

RIP Avery Cardinal Dulles SJ

One of the best books I ever read (long before I ever decided to go to Gradual School I might add) was The Assurance of Things Hoped For., By Avery Cardinal Dulles SJ It was the most amazingly clear (but very deep) study of faith I had ever read. I was hooked from that point.

I loved the way Cardinal Dulles could explain the most complex of issues (although I will freely admit that there were times that I had to read certain passages two and even three times to be sure I was comprehending exactly what he was saying).

When I did reach Gradual school I had a professor there who had studied under "Fr. Dulles" at Catholic U in DC. We were treated to many very funny and captivating stories about him.

So I was saddened to hear that he had died this week.

His faith and service to the Church will be greatly rewarded in heaven.

Pax

Losing Tim Russert is Like Losing a Trusted Friend

Tim Russert passed away yesterday of a massive heart attack. I was so saddened to hear the news last night, it was as though I had lost a trusted friend.

His political commentary was always balanced. Although we knew his background, (a Catholic man who had high moral standards) he never let that turn him into an overbearing holier than thou interviewer, even when the person sitting across from him was someone whose views were on the oposite side of the spectrum from his own.

He will be greatly missed.

read the New York Times column here.

Eternal rest grant unto him O Lord. . .

Words Can't Express

We just received some very sad news. Our beloved retired pastor Fr. Charlie Chesebrough died this morning. He has been a part of my family's faith life for the past fourteen years, as more than pastor. He was a friend, confidant, mentor and all around great example of what a servant priest should be.

When I was a member of the Parish Council I was pregnant with the angelbaby and because I was secretary I spent many many hours working closely with Fr. Charlie during my pregnancy and after she was born. He had a special bond with her. As she grew up, whenever I would have errands at the parish office the minute she burst through the door she would make a b-line for his office (sometimes bursting in on conversations he was having with people) to give him a hug. They always had a very special bond.

I am at a loss. I realize that this last year has been a great struggle for him health wise, and really ever since he retired two years ago every day has been a gift, because his lungs were so compromised by emphysema, but I still feel such crushing loss to think that I will never see him again.

Please join with me in praying for the repose of his soul and for consolation for his family, (his brothers, and their wives and children, as well as the parish families he brought together in his nearly forty years of priestly ministry.

Pax

When Life Just Doesn't Make Sense

Today I attended the Funeral Mass of a 20 year old young man who died of an accidental overdose. He had been at a party with "friends". He had probably partied with these friends before, he had probably taken this drug before, who knows. Unfortunately, this time his young heart couldn't handle the load and he went into distress.

Unfortunately for him though, because of fear, no one at the party was willing to call 911 or drive him the few blocks to the emergency room that might have saved his life. He died on Mother's day because of fear or insecurity or whatever.

His poor mother and father are left to try to figure out how and why this horrible tragedy befell their handsome son. The church was packed with young people. He never met a stranger, and had the kind of personality that drew others to him.

I was so impressed by the forcefulness by which Fr. spoke of not letting this young man's life go meaningless. Fr. said that we could honor his life by making sure that no one else came to the same sad fate. We must be our brother's keeper, we must make sure that none of our friends are living on the edge. We must be willing to stand up and say STOP THE MADNESS! We must be willing to do what is right.

It is too late for this young man. But maybe, just maybe it won't be too late for all the other young men and women in that church today. Maybe that is the legacy that his short life will leave.

Pax

RIP: A Great Man Leaves Us

Charlton Heston died yesterday. He was 84 and had been suffering from Alzheimer's disease. Knowing how painful and slow the progression of this disease is, all I can say is, rest in peace good man, rest in peace.

My oldest daughter's response when she heard the news was "Now someone can pry the weapon from his cold, dead hands."

She gets it from her father.

Pax

Achieving Your Childhood Dreams

This was very powerful for me this morning. Especially the thought about brick walls being there to make you prove how much you want something. I think I agree with him. I might put it another way: where others find the brick wall a stumbling block, I find a steping stone (albeit one that takes an inovative way to get over it).

I am feeling much better today and hopefully will be getting back to work on my final essays. Thanks for the prayers.

NOTA: This guy was on Oprah Monday. Wow, I knew about something even before Oprah did, I feel so special.

Pax

For Those We've Lost

Today we had a special mass for the deceased members of the Knights of Columbus Council to which mrangelmeg and our our son are affiliated. We went to a different parish than our own in order to honor these men and in a special way to support their widows.

It was a very interesting Mass because there are many people in that parish that I know, so I got to see some people who don't know yet that I am no longer working, and one friend from St. Meinrad who will be graduating this Spring.

Now we are home on a cold rainy Sunday with a few things to do before the Colts game this afternoon.

Not a bad way to spend a day if you ask me.

Pax