A Burden Removed (1 Viewer)

[Chu Gai]

My mother is 89 years old and for all that time has been a Catholic. She is very old school and steeped in the tradition and customs of a person who learned and practiced her religion while a child. Just because Popes have said it's OK to eat meat on certain days or have changed the practices and customs to suit more modern times, she has remained steadfast in her ways of thinking and beliefs. Despite anything I or others might've said to the contrary, she has a certain comfort that is rooted in tradition. However, with that comfort also came a burden.
My mother, you see, has carried a burden. A stigma and an unpardonable sin for when she married my father, she married a divorced man. To her mind, because my father's previous marriage was not annulled she had made a decision to trade the promise of eternal salvation for the temporary earthly damnation of human love. Not only had she damned herself, she had also damned my father. For those familiar with the convenient and bought for Kennedy annulments, this is not an unknown way of thinking.
Not being especially fluent in English, coupled with a small but growing diminished mental capacity had only reinforced this belief over the years. As a result, she has refused communion, a fundamental tenet of Catholicism. The few times she attended Church services were done with misgivings for here was a divorced woman daring to be present in the home of God while living a life that perpetuated this unpardonable sin.
Being 89 years old makes one painfully aware of their mortality and that the transition from this world is around some near corner. I cannot tell you how quietly she feared for both her and my father's soul. After all, eternity is forever. A silent terror is indeed something to be feared.
However, all the above has changed. Two Sundays ago, during a quiet family get together outside the home, the local priest stopped by to say some words. After a while, I stopped him to tell him I had a problem and asked if he could help at which point I recounted the above story. He listened thoughtfully, smiled, and said let me take care of this. With that, he took my both my mother's hands in his, lifted her up, and the two disappeared for perhaps 15 minutes. When my mother returned, she simply said, "I'm going to get Communion tomorrow." Later that evening, she walked up to my father and told him that he didn't have to worry anymore because he was going to heaven. The next day, I said the following...

Thank you for listening.

 

[Harpozep]

Thank you ! Very moving .And this is coming from a non religious person ( Me ).
Your summation of your dad's life and impact had a warmth and nobility about itself. Indeed, what more is there to do...at the end. He lived a long life, and by the sound of it a good one.

Goodbyes are sad, and eternity is the abyss of time from where we come and go. I lost my mother unexpectedly when she was 62 and always wondered what she would have been like for our daughter who was born a year after mom passed. My mom always wanted a grandchild, but went away before that happened. I will always feel she left before her work was done...............

Thanks for sharing your thoughts with us. Families are complicated and simple. The simple being that we are all so temporary and our time here is relatively short. We should strive to make that time count.

 

[Mike Frezon]

Chu: Thanks for sharing. It sounds like you have strong family ties--a blessing.

Good for you to have approached the priest and asked for help. Good for him that he gave your mother and father peace-of-mind and peace-of-soul.

 

[Citizen87645]

Chu, I'm sorry for your loss and was touched by what you wrote. I'm sure your father felt blessed to have you in his life.