Preparing for Death #mementomori

Today's Gospel is a rather poignant one for our community in Boston. A woman whose life had been ebbing away with a hidden hemorrhage (which made her ritually unclean) grasps at Jesus' cloak--as close to him as she dares to come. And a desperate father leaves his dying daughter's bedside to beg for a miracle that no one has ever seen or imagined.

Like the long-suffering woman making her way toward Jesus through the crowd, we wait as Sr Charitas continues her long, slow-dance with the Lord, none of us knowing the day or the hour.

Meanwhile, a family close to our community who had long hoped to hear the healing words "Little girl, arise," are today laying their little girl, the same age as Jairus' daughter, to rest.

The flu epidemic, which hit our community last week, has so diminished our numbers that there are fewer of us to keep watch with Sr Charitas and to accompany the sorrowing family in their grief. Even in the grief, though, there are small points of consolation: little Christina, though consumed with cancer, was pain-free (without any pain medication) for her last two days. And her mom texted on Sunday, "Christina is waiting in Heaven for Sr Charitas."

When Sr Charitas first came home, the hospice nurse told us, "Now we wait on Sr Charitas' body to
tell us what to do." Truth to tell, none of us really expected the vigil to last twelve days or more. The nervous energy of the first week has subsided and we are trying to settle into a "new normal" for however long it lasts. Sr Charitas is often conscious and responsive to those who know her best. She has communicated that she is comfortable and needs nothing. The hospice nurse, who came to check on her during my last watch, pronounced our care "perfect." (Good to hear!) Meanwhile, the experience has me taking notes for the days of my own diminishment, if I should be granted that kind of time.

Even though many people today wish for a quick death, a wise tradition recommends that we pray for just the opposite: "From sudden death, deliver us, O Lord!" The idea behind this prayer is that we have time to repent of any serious sins and to receive the sacraments and all the blessings the Church bestows upon the dying, and even that we should surrender our lives into God's hands in a final act of freedom. When I was a girl, it was quite common for Catholics to carry a wallet card opposite one's driver's license that announced, "I am a Catholic. Please call a priest." The same is still often impressed on four-way medals. (A sudden death doesn't give you time for absolution and anointing, although I think priests generally give a conditional absolution in case the soul has not yet departed this life.)

Anyway, just as we are urged to have a "Medical Power of Attorney" document (and for Catholics, that document ought to specify our desire for end-of-life care that is consistent with Catholic moral values), I am preparing some last wishes for those who may have to care for me for a short or extended period of disability in my life. That way the sisters will not have to wonder what might be comforting to me. (Granted, I have no idea what might actually comfort me in a hypothetical future situation!)

So far my list includes the kind of prayers I hope to have offered around my bedside (Liturgical Morning, Evening and Night Prayer), my favorite Psalms (so far, 92, 138, 16, 139, 84), and a special request to have the Gospels and Letters of St Paul read (not proclaimed, just read aloud) consecutively. I hope the sisters will frequently renew the "Pauline Offertory" with me; that is our prayer of self-offering in union with Jesus in which the first intention is "in reparation for error and scandal spread throughout the world through the media." This is what drew me into the convent in the first place, so it would be lovely to go home to God in that spirit. I hope there won't be a lot of chatte in the room--though maybe I will change my mind on this. I have musical preferences, too.  If I have dementia and am uncooperative, set the necessary task to music and I will be putty in your hands.  But please don't put on a piano sonata CD. It will only set my nerves on edge!

• What have  you learned about yourself from caring for a loved one? 
• Do you have a Medical Power of Attorney document? 
• Do your health care proxies know and understand the nuanced Catholic position on end-of-life care?
• Are you drawing up "pastoral care instructions" so your loved ones know what things might bring you spiritual comfort if you are incapacitated?

More resources on end of life issues are listed on the US Catholic Bishops' site.

Keeping Vigil with "Love"

Her name really is Love: Sister Charitas. A missionary for over 50 years, fluent in three languages, she is engaged in the most intense mission activity of her life, speaking a language that few of us learn on this earth: the language of a long, involuntary silence (particularly purgatorial for a sociable character like hers!).

Sister Charitas on her 75th birthday, with her sister and brothers.

Sister Charitas grew up in Sicily, with a character as strong and determined as her family name: Forte! That quality helped her when she found herself caring for her numerous younger siblings after the death of their mother. Only a teenager herself, she became a real mother to the youngest of them, but still found the strength to follow a vocation that took her far from home. As a young sister, she was sent to our newly founded community in Canada as a pioneer of the Pauline mission in a bi-lingual country. Several members of her family also relocated to Toronto where there is still a very close-knit Italian community.

On the floor in the St Louis bookstore!

In the mid-1980's, the Superior General of the Daughters of St Paul asked the Canadian community to focus on ministry in French-speaking Canada, and entrusted the Toronto bookstore and community (along with the rest of Canada) to the sisters of the United States province. At this point, Sister Charitas became part of the (newly baptized) United States-English Speaking Canada province of the Daughters of St Paul. She remained in Toronto for quite some time, helping the new administration understand the complexities of the system there and introducing the sisters to the many collaborators of the Pauline mission. In time, she was transferred to other communities, most notably St Louis, where she continued doing customer service but also helped welcome the new postulants; still, she was happy to be recalled to Toronto and her family connections.

Sr Charitas loves LIFE!

Several years ago, serious health concerns advised a transfer to the infirmary community where Sister Charitas could get extra support and care, but, true to her name, she insisted she was strong enough to handle things where she was. Until she wasn't. Parkinsons-like symptoms progressed with an incredible rapidity, but Sister Charitas refused to surrender to them. Sometimes she could only communicate with her eyes, but it was very clear what she wanted to say. "Posso: I can do it. Let me try." She hated the wheelchair and its footrest, always finding a way to get her feet comfortably on the ground as one of the sisters took her on a "walk" through our offices. I would pop out to bless her with one of the relics from my office shrine (usually St Therese). Now I bring the relic to her room, where we (and her brother and sister) take turns day and night to keep company with her.

We don't know how long her legendary strength will sustain her life on this earth. Certainly, every second that remains is precious to the Lord and to us. We are convinced that right now, no one is carrying out a more effective media ministry or offering a greater reparation for the misuse of communications technology than the little lady named "love" in our infirmary wing.

Pages from the Past: The Vow of Poverty

From 2013. Six months after Mom died, the family was dealing with the estate.

Statue of St Francis on a hilltop in Assisi.

I keep referring to the vows in an objective way, rather than seeing them above all in their relational nature, especially poverty, which I seem to have the hardest time understanding, appreciating and observing "richly." But see St Francis: his poverty; his understanding of poverty was above all relational: "to be poor with the poor Christ." This could be a helpful avenue to renew me in the observance of the evangelical counsels. 

If the vows do not conform me more to Jesus, constitute a communion with his own life, how can they really be evangelical—much less “evangelizing”?

(next day)

“The foxes have dens, the birds of the sky have nests, but the Son of Man has no place…” Now, neither do I, since Mom’s house has just been appraised with serious structural problems so that we can only hope to sell it “as is.” With that, I no longer have a “home” to go home to. I am invited, after 35 years of profession, to “leave home…and follow” Jesus in a new way. Rather, “home, father and mother” have all left me—left me bereft—but also left me free to “follow the Lamb wherever he goes.”

This sort of connects with yesterday’s reflection on the relational dimension of the vows, especially poverty. Suddenly poverty is revealed as very relational indeed. “My God and my all.”

It is a grace to have this earthly foothold taken away from me while I am on retreat and not while I am trying to accomplish something else. What this whole situation opens up to me (and threatens me with) is a new and more fruitful experience of poverty; what it means to follow a poor Christ.

Lord, help me to receive this instead as a chance to make my dwelling in you; for you to be my rock, my reference point, my place from which I “go in and out and find pasture.” My real home.

The lot marked out for me is my delight;

Welcome indeed the heritage that falls to me.

You are my inheritance, O Lord.

You are my portion from this estate.

I have definitely been given the best part.

"Pages from the Past" are randomish excerpts from my old journals. I process things in writing, so there were a lot of volumes, but here and there I found notes that were still pertinent or helpful. I got rid of the books (hello, shredder!) and typed up the things I wanted to save, whether for myself (mostly) or to share. 

Four Kings and a Baby

St Mary Major; 13th century mosaic: Adoration of the Magi, by Franciscan, Jacopo Torriti.

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On this traditional day of Epiphany (we'll celebrate it liturgically tomorrow), a reminder that "this feast is not a quaint fairy tale from the past but a bold proclamation of the gospel that contrasts two starkly different worldviews": that of the three kings, "motivated by their love of nature and their search for the truth," and that of the fourth king, Herod "the Great," who "uses naked power to oppress and divide peoples." Read more here (by Donald Senior, CP).

Pages from the Past: Following the Star

The Magi’s great question: “Where is he?” 

I can imagine them approaching the house…Joseph outside, stacking wood or something:

“Where is he?” 

And Joseph: “Come and see!”

The Magi (as well as the shepherds) are good examples of freedom. The "exceedingly great joy" they felt at the star’s reappearance shows that they were not acting out of a grim and determined sense of duty or obligation, but following the call of beauty that corresponded to their interior compass.

Then there's Herod. 

Herod’s unfreedom is manifest in his not even reflecting on his action. Crafty he was, but he did not consider the “why?” or “what” he was doing: his motivation was never examined; his ultimate goal not recognized. It is as if he acted only out of instinct—and Matthew notes that he acted while in a perturbed state of mind. He was “under the influence”; he was out of control even while he tried to control everything, Magi included. 

This is why we make—and need to make—an examen every day: to keep verifying our actual (not our stated) motivations for what we do during the day, the choices we make; the priorities we act by, the triggers that provoke automatic behaviors… to call them up, verify them, see them in the light of truth, especially of the Word of God that has most spoken to us for that period of time. It is vitally important not to dislodge the Word of God from the examen or we risk assuming a very different background/horizon by which to see and evaluate. 

Knee-jerk reactions call for the deepest examination: they are a sign of stuck, stolid unfreedom.

"Pages from the Past" are randomish excerpts from my old journals. I process things in writing, so there were a lot of volumes, but here and there I found notes that were still pertinent or helpful. I got rid of the books (hello, shredder!) and typed up the things I wanted to save, whether for myself (mostly) or to share.