Life is filled with uncertainties. But we can all be certain of one thing. We will leave this world with no attachments. No one can take anything on the final journey. And yet, don't we all cling to earthly things with a death grip? Strange expression, eh, since death will tear everything from our hands? I often think of Gulliver tied down by the Lilliputians with a million little threads. Isn't that what we are like with all our petty desires and concerns that occupy our thoughts and attention.
Of course, our attachment to loved ones is a good thing, isn't it? Well, yes and no. If we have a disordered attachment to someone, we need to break it. Imagine the person who makes a lover more important than God, willing to break any commandment to keep the relationship going. Or a friend who is dangerous and leads us into sin, but is oh-so-pleasant and entertaining to be with.
But even a solid relationship between husband and wife, parents and children, or between siblings or any other combination can be a roadblock if it takes precedence over my relationship with God. That's not uncommon these days when keeping the family peace often involves choosing family members and their sins over God and His commandments. Think of those parents who bless homosexual relationships and even allow sodomy or fornication under their own roof.
Our relationships with others won't end with death since every one of us has an immortal soul. We can still pray for our family and friends (and even our enemies) after death and they can, and hopeully will, pray for us. But we will be separated. Have you ever heard anyone say, "I'm having lunch with my dead dad today?" No coffee klatches or tea parties and other opportunities for a chat no matter how much you would like to be reunited. That will come, but we have to walk through that same door to get there.
As for our stuff -- POOF! It will all be given up willingly or wrenched from our grasping fingers. And most likely it will end up at thrift stores and the Good Will. I think of that every time I go junking. Who did all this stuff belong to? How much did they value it? Didn't anyone want this old photo of a family member or this First Communion certificate? How sad!
my junk. But whose fault is that? I love my books and enjoy my doll collection. I love the things that remind me of my parents. I love my chickens and my bees.
I've started giving things away, but not enough. This morning I talked to a little girl after the holy hour for priests. She made her First Communion last Sunday. I asked if she would like a doll. So I've been asking my "babies" who would like to go to a new home and be loved by a precious little girl? I picked out what I think is the perfect choice -- bright and colorful with her own baby. I love giving dolls to the little girls at the chapel and I can always find a new one at a thrift store. Really! God preserve me from replacing the things I give away.
The freest I've ever felt was in jail after rescues. I spent four days in Arlington jail for a rescue at an abortion business back in the mid 70s. All I had was a cup, my bible, a toothbrush and toothpaste, and a change of underwear. When I spent 24 days in the Erie County Holding Center in Buffalo during the Spring of Life two decades later it was the same. My little piece of planet earth was a mattress on the floor.
Who knows what my last abode will be before I exit stage right? [I have no interest in moving left.] Perhaps it will be a small room in an assisted living facility or nursing home. Or maybe I will have the blessing of dying at home surrounded by a few loving family members praying the rosary. What a consoling thought that is! It's the way both my parents died, my dad at his home in Elkridge, MD and my mom at my home here in Woodstock. How I miss them both. But we will meet again. The attachment to God and to those who have gone before me, like a magnet, pulls me toward the finish line. Somehow at that final moment I don't think I'll be looking around me at all the stuff with a reluctant sigh about having to leave it all behind. I pray its hold on me will be long severed.
In order to be completely attached to God we need to completely detach from things that separate us from Him. I pray to be vigilant in weeding everything out of the garden of my soul that strangles my relationship with God. For about twenty years I went on an annual Ignation retreat with Fr. James Buckley that helped further that goal. What a gift and blessing and what a personal loss when he died. It's been several years, but I'm scheduled for another Ignatian retreat this July. How I look forward to that opportunity to work my little garden. Please pray for me as I will for you.
May Jesus Christ be praised!
St. Ignatius, pray for us.
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