Grandma Elaine...

Faustina Elaine was named after not only the famous St. Faustina, but also after my mother, Elaine, who passed away June 22nd, 2003.

Today would have been her 55th birthday...
I remembered her today in prayer and I brought her to the altar at mass.

I think I have dealt with (or tried to deal with) her death as well as one can (certainly there are moments), but the hardest thing for me, I think, is the fact that she cannot share joyous moments with Cynthia and I (and the little ones too, of course). I mean, selfishly, I cannot experience events and times in life where I know her joy would have augmented the sheer pleasure of my own life. Yes, I know that her being here, as all that she was - full of life -, would make those precious moments even more so. Yet I must confess, I appreciate and love my mother better now than I ever did when she was alive, but I suppose we all do that- not appreciate what we have until it's gone.

Yet I trust and have hope in the Lord's mercy. I have always thought that my mother was a good woman, and that her suffering was redemptive not only for the sake of her own salvation but for mine and our family in general. (But back to me again - because this reflection on her is really all about me!)

A friend and colleague of mine at Trinity offered a profoundly wise week of morning prayer reflections at school: he pointed out that the life of our Lord, Jesus Christ can be likened to a Greek tragedy. Now of course, tragedy has to be defined carefully; a tragedy is different from catastrophe. Both are hard and cause pain, but a tragedy has a redemptive element to it, whereas catastrophe is simply destructive. And so if Christ's life is the 'perfect' tragedy, and we are called to imitate Him, then we must not only follow Him as admirers but also carry our cross of suffering. We must embrace both the triumph and the tragedy of our Lord - we must be transfigured by His magnificence and His liberating, beatific love while simultaneously offering ourselves to be crucified in a world that St. Paul says is fundamentally passing away.

I wish I had the text of what he wrote... it was one of the most profound yet clear explanations of human suffering and our challenging call to beatitude I have ever heard. Kudos to Scott.

I bring this in because I firmly believe in God's providence, and I see my Mom's suffering coincide with my 'transfiguration', my true conversion. Only through this could I embrace the cross too.

As my wife, brother, and sister-in-law know best, I am a completely different man than I was even 5 or 6 years ago; I still am a great sinner, but my life is no longer oriented toward me, myself, and I (I know... I still need work); it is oriented toward the Lord; I possess faith, that great grace from God. So, because of this, I long for her to see me as I am now, a son of hers who deeply appreciates her and wants to actually share life with her (rather than shut her out and be unappreciative) and tell her about my day and my passion to share the good news. I want to see her call Granny and talk about nothing for an hour and laugh to myself. I want to see her pick up Faustina and grin at her and tickle her and care for her. I want to see her talk with Cynthia and share her life, and look through old photo albums, and cook Thanksgiving dinner together. I want her to look at me and be proud of who I am and what I've done... well, she always did that... but I want her to actually have something to be proud of rather than just loving me so much for being her son (yeah, she loved us all that much- she was a jealous Mom, kind of like how Yahweh was a jealous God in the Old Testament- we were all everthing to her: Dad, Kim, Jason, Granny, and me).

So, with that babbling, I praise the Holy Trinity for my Mother who remained faithful to the Lord and the Church (as much as she knew how in such a troubled era), and I thank God; and I offer my intercession for the repose of her soul, and I know I can also, through Christ, beseech her to look after us and intercede for us as we struggle on the journey to be saints, knowing that if she could she would - and would have already.

Amen.

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My lovely sister-in-law, Annamarie, offered this reflection today as well:

It would have been my mother-in-law’s 55th birthday today. Dear Husband and the boys marked the occasion by going to Mass together and praying for her (while I was bedridden).

As Booger gets older, I am more determined for him to know and remember that he does have another grandmother — one that he has never met, unfortunately.

About a week ago, the boys and I were driving around between errands when I realized how close we were to the cemetery where Elaine is buried, and how long it had been since I’ve gone there.

I also realized that this would be the first time our coherent eldest would be visiting her grave, though he’s gone plenty of times as a baby and toddler.

How interesting it was to have a discussion with Boo Boo about where we were and what we were doing. When we got to the mausoleum and I showed him her grave (which is conveniently located on the lowest level, so the boys can see it easily), he put his eyes up to the marble stone and said, “Why can’t I see her in there?” His curiosity and innocence helped lighten the mood a little, at least.

I had the boys kneel next to me and began to pray out loud. We all were a little surprised when I started crying. It really had been a long time since Elaine had died, and we’ve had to go on without her, but the thought that she would never meet and see our children — and DH’s brother’s children — in this life still overwhelms me with grief from time to time.

“It will be OK, Mama,” Boo Boo said, patting my shoulder. He’s right. I do have to trust that it will be OK, someday, and pray for our reunion in the next life. Then we’ll have all the time in eternity with each other…