15 March 2014

Reflections for Nan

This past Wednesday, my step-grandmother passed away at the age of 91. While this wasn't a complete surprise, the passing of a loved one presents us a time to mourn - and to celebrate.

I was asked to deliver the eulogy at the funeral. The text is below:

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        Yesterday during our prayers, I recounted the memories with Alberta’s chocolate chip cookies and peperoni rolls. I was reminded of the fudge that she used to have to hide from Aunt Margaret in the oven. And, yes, it was that same fudge Aunt Margaret hid from the rest of the sisters when she returned home to the Motherhouse in Philadelphia.

        These are great memories. And memories are what we now share together of Alberta.

        Taking a family vacation a number of years ago, my mother found a sign for Pop that read, “You can tell a German, but you can’t tell him much.” I think that Pop applied that to Nan, because once, while watching A Chorus Line, as Nan like to tell the story, the song “I Can Do That” came up, and Pop turned to her saying, “That’s you, Alberta: I can do that, I can do that.”

        Most likely, she could.

        Yet the stubbornness found in that German sign which hung in their kitchen is something that we can laugh about, because it is something that we saw in Alberta.

        Stubbornness in her personality which was a part of who she was is one of the ways we’ll remember her. But this stubbornness also played out in her faith life.

        One of the memories I’ll have of Alberta is going to Saint Mary’s German on Saturday mornings with her and Pop to clean the church and getting it ready for the weekend liturgies. (This may be one of the reasons why I’m in the vocation where I am today.) This was Alberta putting her faith into action – the service of her community, her family of faith. She seemed to enjoy being part of those communities, whether it be doing things for Saint Mary’s, or even cooking for the priests at Saint Martin de Porres.

        As Ray pointed out to me last night, Alberta was a woman of prayer. We chuckled as he said that she always seemed to get her prayers answered. Well, I think that’s partly due to her stubbornness, and partly due to the fact that she was born on the feast of Saint Anthony of Padua, one of the popular saints we turn to in times of physical and spiritual frustration.

        And her prayerful stubbornness paid off. She loved spending that time with the Lord, and she loved spending that time taking her family and friends before the Lord. I remember moments of her praying with Aunt Margaret on the patio while we were all having fun in the pool; how she was looking, every-so-often, for a new daily meditation book, because there’s only so many times you can read just one; how she would ask me or Kathy to get her the yearly guide to the Liturgy of the Hours.

        This was a woman who loved to pray, because this was a woman who loved her relationship to Christ and His Church.

        As we now gather to remember Alberta, and to pray for her, we ask her to continue to pray for us until the day we are with her, Pat and Ray in the fullness of the Kingdom.

        Because, let’s face it, we still need her stubbornness in prayer to make it through this life.




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Enjoy the journey . . .

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