Feb 26, 2023

Living in Unconditional Love (103)

 

“Love flows from God to humans without effort:

As a bird glides through the air without moving its wings-

Thus, they go wherever they wish united in body and soul,

Yet separate in form.”

–Mechtild of Magdeburg

 

My wife Eileen died from esophageal cancer in February 2020 one year after being diagnosed, 60 years to the day that we met on Long Island. Then my brother Tom became ill (not COVID), and I spent a total of six weeks being with him in Ohio, but he died in October 2020. My sister-in-law Sue Mahoney died from Covid-19 in January 2021. On top of it all stood the pandemic, locking everyone down almost two years, and even though it is abating, I wear my mask anytime I am out among people, unlike many.

02/26/2023                             This time of the year is a very difficult time for me, while at the same time marking joy as life continues in new ways. This past Wednesday, Ash Wednesday, marked the third anniversary of Eileen’s death, and I will repeat my daughter Barbara’s talk after the funeral celebrating Eileen’s life at the end of this journal. But I wanted to say that God is working hard to make this a joyful time for me as well, with Maria’s birthday the day before Eileen’s death, and the new birth that is coming soon of Madison, plus this year having the celebration of Connor and Tabby’s beautiful wedding last weekend.

I have worked hard to keep myself busy to avoid stewing in self-pity. Having an opportunity to chat with friends and family helps, and the seasonal activities and the communion service on Ash Wednesday helped. (As an aside, it was amusing to see “religious right” suggest that President Biden must have fallen since he had that dirty mark on his forehead on Wednesday. He is not afraid in displaying who he is inside. As the wry comments in the news asked, have they never heard of ‘Ash Wednesday?’ It is most interesting that no one knew that he had been to church somewhere that day.)

Barbara summed it up well in her short talk, followed by Dan (next week).

Good morning, everyone.  Thank you all for coming.  My name is Barbara and this is my brother Dan.

We want to thank everyone for the support that has been given to our mother and family for this past year.  A special thank you to the parishes of St Stephen’s/St. Patrick’s and here at St. Margaret’s.  Your prayers have been wonderful.  Thank you to those who have sent cards and letters and put comments on Facebook.  My father read each of them to our mother.  Thank you to Lourdes Hospice, everyone who called or came to visit, those who sent gifts and those who sent us meals or even a plate of cookies.  My mom appreciated each one and knew that it all came from love.

My mother first came to St. Margaret’s as the DRE (Director of Religious Education).  She soon became part of the team with Donna, Sr. Milice, and Lana, that ran the parish with Fr. Dan.  She really enjoyed the camaraderie and friendship that was quickly developed.  My mother enjoyed her years as a DRE both here and at St. Patrick’s, as well as all her involvement at the diocesan level, and she really enjoyed teaching 5^th grade religious education.  She first started in 1963 and kept it up for over 50 years.  I can remember being in first or second grade and when my religious class was over, I would wander over to her classroom.  If the door was open, I would go in and sit at the back of the room and wait for her to finish.  My appearance was a notice to my mother that her class was running late, and she had to wrap it up.

Both of my parents were heavily involved with the Church.  They were a part of the Cursillo movement in the 60’s and always were part of every church event.  Whether it was the parish picnic, parish meals, parish fair, or even coffee after mass, they donated their time and efforts.  They showed us that belonging to a parish meant more than just going to mass; it was about participating in God’s work and helping whenever possible.

My mother’s true vocation, however, was being a mother.  She once told me that when she first held me in her arms, she finally knew her purpose in life.  Mom took motherhood seriously.  We had our regular chores and she taught all of us the basics of cooking from the time we were old enough to reach the stove; she said she knew we would never starve if we knew how to cook scrambled eggs.

Our family vacations were traveling to Ohio to visit our father’s parents and brother, camping in Canada, visiting her brother, Jim, and his family at Thanksgiving and then driving over to Queens Village to see her sister Maureen and the rest of the Rogers’ clan.  In more recent years, we would see her other brother, Kevin, and his family after Christmas at Lake Mohonk.  As you can imagine, traveling with 6 or 7 children and a dog for hours at a time could get very fractious and noisy.  If we fought too much, mom would pull over to the side of the road and wait.  Deathly silence would fall over the car as soon as she hit the brakes.  Even after she restarted, we would only talk in whispers for quite some time.   She never had to do that more than once a year. 

Janet once asked my mother how she kept herself from killing us over the years.  Mom said that when things got too much, she would stop and say to herself, “What would the headlines be?”  Thinking about that usually gave her time to get herself under control.

When we were growing up, mom would tell us stories of her childhood on Long Island.  She told us of the time she played a memory game while waiting in a line at the butchers.  She hid a $10 bill in the display case frame to see how long she would remember it was there.  She smugly waited, laughing to herself at her cleverness.  She got up to the counter, placed her order, and when they asked her for the money, she had no idea where it had gone.  She thought she had left it at home.  She had to return and get more money from her mother.  That night, the butcher called her house and asked if Eileen had put $10 in the display case frame.  “Oh, yeah,” she said.  “That’s right, I was playing a game!”

Later, my mom’s family lived across the street from her family’s church.  Perry Como and his family also attended that church.  She would time her arrival to church so that he would open the door for her, “Thank you, Mr. Como!” she would say.

My mom grew up in the suburbs of Long Island but really embraced the life up here when we moved to Whitney Point in 1971.  We had a large garden (that we kids had to weed).  She learned to can fruit and freeze vegetables and make her own maple syrup from our trees.  She was really happy, though, when Strawberry Valley Farm started selling vegetables and she didn’t have to do the growing herself!

My mom loved to swim in our pond.  She would float around with just her head showing above the surface.  She also loved to sail her little Sunfish and ride her horse.  Mom also mowed the lawn; she knew that we would know that she wouldn’t be able to hear us over the lawn mower.  She would put on her bathing suit and get a tan while she mowed the lawn.  She usually had about an hour’s peace before something happened, but she enjoyed that hour!

After most of us grew up and moved out, my mother traveled more with my father.  Our youngest brother, Drew, got to travel with them and had a very different experience in traveling than we did!   He flew in airplanes to Arizona, California, and stayed in hotels.  How we envied him!  In their later years, my parents got to do a lot of travelling together.  They went to Hawaii, Alaska, the Mediterranean countries, Scandinavian Countries, Switzerland, Scotland, the Panama Canal.   Most of these were cruises, which my parents loved.

My mom was always happy to see her family which included her brothers, sister and nieces and nephews and grandchildren.  She was very proud to be representing her sister, Maureen, in recent years, for the special events in the Rogers family.

We love you, mom, and we miss you.  We know you are happy and well, and for that we are grateful.

Reading this as I put it in this journal brought back tears of joy and laughter. Eileen died 60 years to the day we met, the day after Maria’s birth, which was also the anniversary of my parents wedding, 95 years ago this year. Much to remember in joy and sorrow. It is truly amazing to ponder the evolution of life and the expansion that comes with time.

Meditation

Gentle One, You hold me tenderly at this time of year. You have flooded the time with joyful occasions and continue to put more before me as my life flows onward. I am in awe at the beauty You have given me, and the life of 60 years with this beautiful and delightful person that sang my life to joy. Memories continue to fill the space and give me joy even among tears.