Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted. ~Matthew 5:4
Today following Holy Mass, I remained in church to pray for a little while and to enjoy another very special moment of sweet and joyful union with Jesus Christ, just after having received Him in the Eucharist. I also said a prayer for my dad, who was summoned home by God on October 16, 1982 at the age of 46.
Jesus presents Himself to us in many ways throughout the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, sometimes as our Lord of the Passion, sometimes as our Risen Lord, sometimes as an infant, a youth, or as a young man during His public ministry. This afternoon, He sat by my side as Jesus of the Divine Mercy. Often when Jesus is going to do something very special, He has the events begin unfolding during the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. How appropriate to linger on this particular day (also the Feast of St. Margaret Mary Alacoque) just a while longer, after having asked Jesus to celebrate the Holy Mass for my father. The church had emptied, but the section where I sat was full. Jesus had already set the stage for what was to take place: my dad, Belinda, my grandparents, and all the members of my family that have entered into eternal life joined me to pray the Chaplet of Divine Mercy.
Together, we prayed for my dad on his feast day, for all the members of our family that have died, and also for all our living relatives all over the world.
We also prayed for the conversion of sinners, the dying, and the Holy Souls in Purgatory.
The reason this story is being shared with you is to remind you to embrace your Catholic faith FULLY and live it PROFOUNDLY. There is NOTHING boring or ordinary about Catholicism, because its Founder, Jesus Christ, is extraordinary, timeless, limitless, and miraculous.
In honor of my father, all those who have gone on before us, and for all those who mourn, this story is repeated here, for you:
Deceased Loved Ones and the Beatific Vision
I
was in school when summoned to return home immediately. What I do
remember clearly about that morning was my father dropped me off in
front of my high school and then went to work. I do not remember what
class I was in, who came to
deliver the news, or what was said. Upon my arrival home a few minutes
later, my mother said that my father was in the hospital downtown and we
had to go there right away. I drove the two of us to the emergency room
at Detroit Receiving Hospital where my father had been taken after
having a massive heart attack at work.
While
my mother and I awaited news, my brother was summoned from his class at
the university nearby and my sister from her university two hours
away. At some point my mother and I were led into "the room." As soon
as I saw where we were going, nothing else needed to be said. A kind
woman from Dad's office sat with us at the hospital and accompanied us
into the room. The three of us sat in the tiny room in shock as we were
told that dad was still alive but would not survive. Dad's co-worker
hugged me, and with her act of compassion the floodgates of sorrow were
opened.
My
brother arrived at some point, and then my sister. A good Samaritan on a
four hour trip of mercy drove my sister to the hospital and then
returned to the university.
Everyone was given the news. Dad had been playing cards with a co-worker
on his lunch break when he collapsed. The very dedicated emergency room
staff worked heroically to save his young life, and kept him alive for
the rest of the day and through the night.
I
had to see my dad once more while he was still living. I pleaded with
my mother and brother to allow me into his room. The very compassionate
hospital chaplain helped us with the decision and I was allowed in.
The
scene was very traumatic. Dad’s eyes were open and his arms were moving
as if he was resisting; it appeared that he was battling against death
and struggling to live. There he was at the threshold of eternity, about
to leave his young family behind. To me it seemed like Dad was
experiencing for one last time the battle an individual soul wages
between the Will of God and its own desires. There was a lot to be
considered, but God was summoning him and it was his time to go. I
remember my mother lovingly rubbing his feet as his life came to a
close. She was experiencing the same struggle of acceptance and letting go.
.jpg)
The doctors continued to resuscitate Dad
throughout the night. They brought him back only to have his heart fail
again. Our hopes and modern science were no match for God’s plan, so
often a mystery of faith and trust. I remember our small family awaiting
the final outcome throughout the night. While we waited, I had the
perception that time had completely ceased to exist. Our father was
dying, and time no longer had meaning or purpose.
At around six in the morning a doctor came to tell us that
Dad had died and we were brought to him to say goodbye. Mom was 40, my
brother was 20, my sister was 19, and I was 17. God love the young
resident who was there trying to save his life. She grieved, too, and
cried right along with us. I'll never forget her.
And
so I stood over the body of my father who had been separated from us so
soon. His health problems began when he suffered a massive heart attack
that destroyed a significant portion of his heart at the age of 39. At
that time my mother was 33, my brother was eleven, my sister was ten,
and I was nine.
I remember the four of us praying many Rosaries, all led by our heroic mother, on Dad's behalf. I also remember going to St. Bonaventure in Detroit
where Venerable Fr. Solanus Casey is buried, which marked the beginning of a
life-long friendship with our dear Capuchin ally in heaven. In fact,
more miraculous interventions through Fr. Solanus were to come twenty years down the road.
Belinda, Joe, and Michele with our dad, circa the mid 70s.
Dad
lived for seven more years after his first brush with death, and that
was our miracle. He was an honest, hard-working man who loved his
family, loved my mother, and honored his marriage vows. My mother cared
for him very heroically through those seven years as they both grew in
virtue through their trials. Dad was a true gentleman and lived his life
very much like his namesake St. Joseph did. After a life lived in
imitation of Christ, the time came when God summoned Dad, and the
faithful servant entered into his eternal reward.
Three of dad's five grandchildren: my children Andre, Nick, and Alyssa
visit his grave in the Italian cemetery near Boston, circa 2005.
A year or so before my sister Belinda was summoned home to be with God in 2011, I spoke with her about the moment when our father died, and asked
her what she had experienced in the hospital that morning. I was
astounded to have been the only one who witnessed something very
extraordinary: I saw my father enter into the Beatific Vision, one of
the most beautiful things I have ever seen. Dad was in the Presence of
God! Oh what heavenly consolation for my grieving soul! My father had
suffered greatly the last years of his life and served God so nobly, and
when he died he radiated joy the likes of which I have never seen on
anyone's face (although the Capuchins come close). My father was not
dead, he was very much alive, and he was so happy!
The Beatific Vision
The beatific vision is the visual perception of God by those who are in heaven.
The
beatific vision is the immediate knowledge of God which the angelic
spirits and the souls of the just enjoy in Heaven. It is called "vision"
to distinguish it from the mediate knowledge of God which the human
mind may attain in the present life. And since in beholding God face to
face the created intelligence finds perfect happiness, the vision is
termed "beatific."
We
buried dad near Boston where he grew up and returned home. Life
continued on for us, but the head of our family and source of our income
was gone, we missed him, the pain of grieving was tremendous, and the
bills kept coming. Even though I knew my father is with God in heaven,
times were tough emotionally and economically after his death. Mom was
very valiant. So many of my best traits were acquired through her and
Dad's fine examples.
The
course of my life was altered dramatically by my father's death, all according to God's most perfect plan. I was
set to go to Michigan State after graduation and study journalism.
Instead I remained home with my grieving mother, attended Wayne State
University, and by Divine providence changed the focus of my studies to
psychology. God was present through everything loving, guiding, healing, encouraging, inspiring, and helping us.
Grieving is normal and necessary as we come to terms with and cope with the loss of loved ones as our apostolate evolves.
Maria
von Trapp of The Sound of Music fame told a very inspiring story in
her book Maria: My Own Story. In the weeks after the death of her
husband she went through a time of what she described as terrible
struggles. As she relived her married life, she felt terrible about the
times she had been unkind to her husband. She wisely sought the counsel
of a priest and told him her whole story.
“When
I was all through, Father Raphael looked at me so kindly and lovingly,
as our Lord must have looked at some of those evil women he cast demons
out of. There were very few questions and answers, and then he informed
me that this had been a general confession over my whole life and he was
now giving me absolution. That meant, he said, that not only God
almighty in heaven, but also my dear husband who is now in God and loves
me more than ever before, will have forgiven and forgotten all those
sins.” 1 She returned home at peace and happy, “…to try now—as Father
Raphael had admonished me---to undo the past damage by doing good from
now on.” 1
A
very important point she makes is “As he is now with God, he is so much
more powerful to help me… He is so close to our heavenly Father that
one glance will be a supplication.” 1
.png)
Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
~1 Corinthians 13:7
The
seven stages of grieving include shock and denial; pain and guilt;
anger and bargaining; depression, reflection, and loneliness; the upward
turn; reconstruction and working through; and acceptance and hope. ~1 Corinthians 13:7
All those who mourn, be comforted with the knowledge of God’s great love for us and infinite mercy. Know that He has a plan for every one of us that is good. Allow yourself to grieve, forgive, be forgiven, and continue on with the plans God has for your evolving apostolate. Continue to pray for the deceased.
Prayer for All the Deceased
By
Thy resurrection from the dead, O Christ, death no longer hath dominion
over those who die in holiness. So, we beseech Thee, give rest to Thy
servants in Thy sanctuary and in Abraham's bosom. Grant it to those, who
from Adam until now have adored Thee with purity, to our fathers and
brothers, to our kinsmen and friends, to all men who have lived by faith
and passed on their road to Thee, by a thousand ways, and in all
conditions, and make them worthy of the heavenly kingdom. -http://catholicism.about.com
Dad's
Godfather, Gus, survived my father by many years. He lived in imitation
of Christ into his 90’s. As he passed into eternal life surrounded by
family and friends, he said to everyone, “See you later!”
May
all those who mourn be comforted during this time of temporary parting,
and may the souls of the faithful departed rest in peace.
God is at work, in each one of us.
______________________
Sources:
1. Maria von Trapp, Maria: My Own Story (Carol Stream, IL: Creation House, 1972), p. 111.
