Tears are flowing as I read this beautiful meditation by a son at his mother’s deathbed, republished at Sed Contra. What a beautiful witness of the Church’s teaching about the dignity of the human person, of the communion of saints, and of faith in the resurrection. Here’s an excerpt; but you should go here to read the whole thing.
As I am typing this, I am sitting in a chair across from my mother, asleep in a hospital bed on loan through Hospice. I am exhausted and every time I think there is no more room for tears find that in fact there are more. Yet I know that this room is filled with all the Saints and Angels of Holy Church, watching over my mother as she slumbers. They weep as Christ Here Present weeps; as Our Sorrowful Mother weeps. I have been told that every man who dies is an Ikon of Christ Who dies; and that every woman who dies is an Ikon of the Dormition of Mary; and know by God’s Grace that this is a time of great horror and pain and also a time of great Love. God in His Love has made of this little room an Ikon of Calvary.
Remember when we were talking about Vocations and Calls from God? I truly believe that my Vocation today is to Watch with Christ as He prays and sweats Blood in the Gethsemane here present. I think my Vocation is to wipe the excrement of a dying woman and empty her urine bag as often as it needs to be emptied. My Vocation today is to Cry and to Weep and thereby to honor the passing of this woman. My Vocation today is to do my little part in this little home to let Christ work through me to uphold the Dignity of this Human Person, Imago Dei, overflowing with Christ and with the Mother of God, “alive with worth till the very end” as one of the Encyclicals celebrating Life says. I am so deeply grateful for this woman who is dying in front of me; and I am so deeply grateful for the Body of Christ that subsists in the Roman Catholic Church that always and everywhere upholds the worth and Dignity of every human life, from conception till death … and beyond. Your prayers and your kindness speak to me of a Church that stands with anyone, anywhere who is suffering, for anyone anywhere who is suffering is an Ikon of the Suffering Christ.
I’ll repeat David’s request: “Please everyone join me in prayer with him for his mother and for even a small measure of his strength should we be called to a similar place.”
via Julie D.
I sympathize. I get frustrated during Mass when Cecilia sees children, some as old as 10 or so, playing with toys (not books) and eating. I can’t blame her for wondering why she can’t as well.
Yeah, that’s a hard one. I’ll confess, even though we have a firm no food at mass policy, I once gave Isabella a snack to prevent a meltdown because her cousin was having one. It’s very hard to explain to a toddler why someone else gets some and she doesn’t.
Arrgh, I know what you mean. That stuff drives me crazy.
Although one thing that’s really helped me lately, to the point that I almost look forward to those types of occurrences, is that it’s a good opportunity to get my kids used to a very important idea early on: we don’t do things like everyone else does. We’re different. As children in a family that’s is attempting to live an orthodox Catholic faith, watching other children duck under the proverbial caution tape with their parents’ consent is going to be the story of their young lives. Just like they now watch kids play on a forbidden playground, later they’ll watch as their friends get Bratz dolls and nice video game systems, go to R rated movies and spend unchaperoned time with boy/girlfriends, etc. etc. etc. They’re going to see a lot of that in their lives. It’s good for them to get used to that idea early on.
Anyway, just thought I’d throw that out in case it’s helpful.