Monday, January 11, 2010

Endings



Those of you who know me on FB know that my father-in-law died Saturday afternoon.


My husband and I spent most of Friday focused on the funeral mass for the young lady whom he had coached in soccer for five years.

She was a freshman at a Catholic girls' school, and half the sanctuary was filled with its students and alumnae. They all sang their alma mater so sweetly at the beginning of the service and
then began to cry at the end as Stand By Me (the last FB status of the young woman, who had collapsed at school a few days earlier) was piped into the sanctuary. The other half of the huge sanctuary was filled with people who have experienced the seemingly incessant stream of deaths of young people which has plagued their parish for the past three months. My spiritual director was one of the priests presiding, and we had a meeting scheduled for late that afternoon, which was perhaps a good thing for both of us. I don't know about him, but I went straight to bed afterward.

My husband's father has been quite ill, but there has been much optimism for for him during the last couple of weeks. However, on Saturday morning my sister-in-law called to say that things had suddenly gone downhill. We got there a couple of hours before he died, surrounded by most of his family, and spent yesterday on funeral planning. I am home now for a brief day of organizing and cleaning and then back to my in-laws' home for at least a couple of days.

As we talked over the funeral, some dear family friends mentioned how much they had liked some of what we did at Josh's. I don't know how it is for other people, but for us it's as if he died this morning, and so it seems like all of these losses are happening at once.

I know I have moaned mightily about the overuse of Psalm 23 (a complaint echoed, to my surprise, by my mother-in-law yesterday), but in my Catholic ventures this past year I have become very fond of the version above. I seem to like it particularly this morning.

14 comments:

Purple said...

(((Gannet and family)))

gabriele said...

{{{{GG}}}}}}

karen gerstenberger said...

What a beautiful song. Thank you for thinking to share it here, in the midst of all that is going on in your life right now.

GG, I cannot put into words how sorry I am for these blows that have come to you, one after the other. I do not understand why this life is so broken, so hard, sometimes.

I pray that your spirit will be filled with all that you need, moment by moment. I trust that God will fill each of you, so that you can be present and do what is needed. You and your family are in my thoughts and prayers.

If I lived closer, I would bring dinner.

Mary Beth said...

My heart is hurting for you.

Karen said...

so very, very sorry for so much hurt and pain. the waves never seem to stop. I'm praying the seas will calm and you can all rest. death is the enemy of us all, and the last one to be conquered--then a new, deathless world. I can't wait.

RevDrKate said...

((((gg and yours)))

alto artist said...

My deepest condolences to you and your family.

I have an extraordinarily beautiful a cappella Hebrew version of Ps.23 sung by a cantor I know. I can't post it anywhere or share it publicly (it was sent to me for study purposes) but if you'd like to hear it, I'd be glad to send it to you.

--aa.

Gannet Girl said...

I would love to hear it, AA.

Mompriest said...

GG - lovely version - one of my favorite versions of this (overused) Psalm..praying for you and your family.

Widening Circles said...

Thinking of you and your family.

Carol said...

Holding you close in my thoughts and prayers, GG.

Rev SS said...

(((GG & family)))

Daisy said...

When I first discovered that I was a Christ follower, I felt the need to say a prayer and the only thing I could remember was The Lord's Prayer and Psalm 23.

So sorry to hear of your father-in-law. (((GG and family)))

Michelle said...

{{GG}} and prayers for all...

Of all the psalms, 23 is not a frequent favorite, but it is my dad's. I sang this at my mother's funeral, celebrated not in her parish church, damaged by an earthquake, not by her long time pastor, who had died shortly before, but by someone who'd never spoken with her, in the novice's recreation room (loaned for the event). In the tiny space, I coudl reach out from the cantor's spot and touch my mother's casket, the altar and my father's hand. And I sang this setting of this psalm...

Thanks for reminding me to hear it anew...may God go with you in the travels.