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Wednesday, July 5, 2023

Reflecting on the Blessing of Death

Raymond John Schneider
1917-1985
During my morning prayer time, I reflected on death. Today is the 38th anniversary of my dad's passing into eternal life. We had just sent my mom off with my aunt and uncle to have dinner. She had hardly left the house during my dad's final battle with terminal cancer and we thought she needed to get away for even a few minutes respite. Daddy died almost immediately after they left, but we decided not to call right away. Let her have a quiet dinner.

They say the dying often wait until their nearest and dearest leave before giving up the ghost. That's what my dad did. It was my sister and I who were with him. He was sitting in a chair next to the bed resting his head on the mattress. We were gently rubbing his back and chatting quietly when I realized that he didn't seem to be breathing. We lifted him and already the blood was pooling at the pressure spot on his forehead. We got him back into bed, called the hospice nurse who came quickly and helped arrange his body, and gathered my local siblings to pray the rosary. Daddy had been anointed and I can't remember now whether the parish priest was with us or not. I'm inclined to think he was. When Mom returned we were all there to offer comfort in her great grief.
As I prayed this morning for my dad, the thought I had was that the best day of life for a faithful Catholic in the state of grace is the day of death. I think of my dad meeting God at the door of heaven hearing the words, "Welcome, good and faithful servant; enter into my rest."

What next? 

To see for the first time what "eye has not nor ear heard, nor have entered into the heart of man the things which God has prepared for those who love Him.”

Wow! What a glorious day! My dad may still be in Purgatory, the anteroom of heaven, but I am confident of his destination. His life imitated the generosity of God; how could he not be recognized and welcomed?

During COVID I talked to several elderly friends terrified at the thought they might die from the "pandemic." To several who went to daily Mass and were in their 80s I said, "You're in your 80s; you're going to die. Why are you afraid." One, who pressured us (unsuccessfully) to get the jab, made the head-shaking reply, "Not today." 

Really! That's what he said. My reply was, "How do you know that? You could hang up the phone and collapse from a heart attack."

I can understand why those with no faith fear death. I can't for the life of me understand how people of faith, those who go to daily Mass and pray every day, can be so terrified at the thought of death. Of course, the devil will try to terrify all of us at that pivotal moment reminding us of the litany of sins that deserve eternal punishment. "God will never forgive you!" he will insist. He wants us to despair because it's his last chance to snatch our souls from God. But if we have nurtured spiritual childhood with unfailing trust in our loving Father, we will not listen. We will swat him away like the insect he is.

In A Man for All Seasons, Thomas More consoles his executioner telling him not to fear. "You send me to God," he says. The Judas minister on the scaffold, Thomas Cranmer, asks (almost enviously the stage directions instruct), "You're very sure of that, Sir Thomas?" The saint replies. "He will not refuse one who is so blithe to go to Him."


Today I'm praying for my dad. I still miss him and his wry sense of humor. But I would not wish him or my mom who died in 2002 back to this vale of tears. They are the blessed! Please join me today in praying for the repose of his soul and the soul of my mom whose death anniversary we will remember in December. Let us never forget our loved ones, especially those who passed on the faith. Thank you, Mom and Dad. What a heritage you gave to your ten children!

Thank you, Almighty God, for the gift of being raised in a large Catholic family. Bring me and all my siblings to heaven through the intercession of Mary, our mother and St. Joseph, patron of a happy death.

9 comments:

  1. What an excellent meditation!

    My dad died late last year. As you said, even though he was very weak at the end, somehow he was able to hold on to get out of the hospital he hated until he got home … he passed away within a few hours of that.

    I have been blessed in life in that I frequently recall to mind my mortality - “24 for all flesh is like grass
    and all its glory like the flower of grass.
    The grass withers,
    and the flower falls,
    25 but the word of the Lord remains forever.”
    And this word is the good news that was preached to you.
    (Our first Pope recalling the prophecy of Isaiah, I Peter 1:24,25)

    As I rapidly approach the end of my life, (could be today), I am convinced that nothing in life matters except what you take with you in that final moment of passing - “a good death”, as they say. Live every day as if it is your last, but even more practically, live every day as if its substance, and only it, will remain with you as you pass out of this life into the mysteries of the everlasting. Make it count.

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  2. We will make a rosary pilgrimage today for the repose of your parents' souls.

    God bless

    Richard W Comerford

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  3. Thank you Richard and Aqua,

    You are both a blessing to me. I will be praying in gratitude for both of you.

    Mary Ann

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  4. My father was also born in 1917 (d. 1999) and My mother in 1919 (d. 2014). While I certainly would not wish them back in this world, of course one can't help wondering what the departed would have thought of such and such.

    My father enjoyed shows like As Time Goes By, so I bet he would have liked Doc Martin.

    My mother, who kept a bird guide, would have been enchanted with the mother hummingbird who built a nest on the windchimes outside the dining room window in 2017 and kept returning for the next four years.

    How would they both have reacted to a peacock or two sitting on the front porch or hanging out in the back yard as began happening a few years ago in our neighborhood?

    In Heaven are far greater things to behold, so what fancies like these really boil down to is my wanting to enjoy my parents' enjoying these earthly things. Harmless if that is kept in mind. It's akin to nostalgia.

    (By the way, my mother was the oldest of seven children. She had dementia in her last years so she didn't know of the death of her youngest sibling, a sister. And in the last 10 months of Mother's life we lost four cousins. I picture her upon arrival in the hereafter saying, "What are all of you doing here already!")

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  5. I have read that some wished to die so that they would not lose their salvation as one always can in this life. [Those in purgatory will get to heaven eventually.] However when you say: "Today I'm praying for my dad. I still miss him and his wry sense of humor. But I would not wish him or my mom who died in 2002 back to this vale of tears. They are the blessed!" not sure you have a true understanding of purgatory (and I assume you believe your parents are there because you are praying and asking prayers for them). Purgatory is the "church suffering":

    "purgatory is a place of punishment...What is this punishment like? The Catechism speaks of a “cleansing fire”, citing St. Gregory the Great and Scripture (e.g. 1 Corinthians 3.12-15). The great St. Thomas Aquinas describes what he thinks the punishments of purgatory are like: “In Purgatory there will be a twofold pain; one will be the pain of loss, namely the delay of the divine vision, and the pain of sense, namely punishment by corporeal fire. With regard to both the least pain of Purgatory surpasses the greatest pain of this life.” (ST Suppl. IIIae.2.1) He also quotes St. Augustine, who thinks similarly: “This fire of Purgatory will be more severe than any pain that can be felt, seen or conceived in this world.”"
    https://aleteia.org/2013/11/01/greater-than-any-pain-of-this-life-the-hard-truth-about-purgatory/

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    1. The worst pain imaginable is the loss of Hope. Nothing can compare. Purgatory has it. Suffering is rendered manageable with the medicine of Hope.

      There are two choices at Judgement: Heaven or Hell. Imagine the Divine finger pointing left, when it is your turn! There is no appeal from that. To the right, even if through Purgatorial fire … there is either possession or hope of possession. All pain is manageable, perhaps even desired, if it means being rendered fit to be in by the presence of He (the Blessed Trinity) whom we love.

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  6. I hope my parents are in heaven, Anonymous. But none of us can know for sure whether the dead are in heaven. I have no doubt they will be there, but for now I pray for the happy repose of their souls and the souls of all my family members who have gone before us.

    I'm not sure what your point is. Of course Purgatory is a place of pain because all of us have to atone for any punishment we still deserve if we have not made restitution here.

    Few of us will likely go straight to heaven. I'm still sure my parents would not want to return. If they are in Purgatory they are assured of heaven. And so I continue to pray for them and do my best to offer plenary indulgences for them. If they don't need them, they will be applied by God to those who do.

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  7. Hi Mary Ann - have you thought about having Gregorian Masses said for your parents? The series of 30 for each? I have for my Father who passed. I still pray that the Blessed Mother and Saint Michael defend him in his final agony - but having had the Gregorian Masses said has given me an additional sense of hope and peace. Paul

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  8. Thanks, Paul, I had not thought of that. I'll look into it.

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