Reflection / John Shaughnessy

In a world of brokenness, this gift may help save us

A group of my friends raised their glasses together, celebrating her life.

Two other friends drove more than an hour to be there for her viewing.

Others shared their condolences in texts, cards, e-mails and conversations, both in person and by phone.

Nearly everyone offered their prayers, and some arranged for an offering of a Mass for her.

Then there were the messages they shared, all from the heart. One included this tribute to mothers from the late Cardinal Joseph Mindszenty.

“The most important person on Earth is a mother. She cannot claim the honor of having built Notre Dame Cathedral. She need not. She has built something more magnificent than any cathedral—a dwelling for an immortal soul, the tiny perfection of her baby’s body. … The angels have not been blessed with such a grace. They cannot share in God’s creative miracle to bring saints to heaven. Only a human mother can. Mothers are closer to God the Creator than any other creature; God joins forces with mothers in performing this act of creation.”

Another touching message came from a mother of two young children who had never met my mom, yet she handwrote a note that brought me to tears, “I was sorry to hear of the passing of your mother, Doris. Even at 96 years young, there is no one on Earth like a mother. I’m sure she is loved and missed.”

That sentiment, echoed by others, struck deep to the heart of a reality that our family has embraced about life, love and loss: While we know we have been extraordinarily blessed by the long life of our mother, there is also the pain that comes with the loss, no matter how long you have a person in your life.

We have also embraced the advice that has been shared by friends who know the pain of that loss.

A couple—one raised Catholic, the other Jewish—wrote, “We hope you can remember the many happy occasions, funny stories and the many years you had with your mother. Reflecting on what our parents did for us and the life lessons they taught us has been—and continues to be—helpful for us. We hope the same for you.”

Another friend offered this thought, “One unexpected silver lining for me is seeing something I know my parents would love. I take a conscious beat to see it through their eyes. It becomes a bittersweet meditation.”

A constant through all the condolences has been a focus on God’s lasting love in our mom’s passing, an emphasis captured in one card’s message: “May God’s loving presence comfort you, His perfect peace restore you, and His promise of eternal life sustain you during this time of loss.”

In a world of brokenness, God calls us to give hope to each other, to share our joy together and to serve each other. And we are at our best when we follow his call to provide comfort and compassion to each other in the toughest times of our lives.

I’ve witnessed and benefitted from the way my mom answered all those calls. And now I know again the comfort, the compassion and the embrace of community from people who share that approach to life.

I also hold onto the Church’s belief in the communion of saints—and my personal belief that my mom is in heaven with my dad. And I embrace the words that a friend shared in relation to my mom’s passing, a message under the title of “Carrying Them Forward.”

“We carry them forward in the stories we tell, the traditions we keep, in the love we share. They live through us, in the kindness we give others. Their legacy is not just in the past but in every moment we honor their memory.”

I will also carry forward the great gift of compassion that everyone has shared during this time.
 

(John Shaughnessy is the assistant editor of The Criterion.) †