saints I've known...

On this beginning of the new year, I was going to write something profound about leaving the old and welcoming the new but I couldn't think of anything profound to say along those lines sooo I will share what I HAVE been pondering today.

I've been thinking about people I knew when they were alive whom I have great hope are in heaven. I continually ask all of them for intercessory prayer support. One is Donna Heine who died at the age of 8, right after she made her First Confession and First Communion and had suffered for a while from a fatal childhood disease and being bedridden for about a year. (I still don't know what the disease was as I was also 8 at that time and adults didn't tell us children these things back then.) Then, there is little Matteo, the son of a client of mine, who died at 5 of a medulloblastoma (brain cancer). And, Dan Hawkins who died at the age of 72. I believe he is in heaven for many reasons and I also know he received the Last Rites before he died.

I remember Donna as being so very innocent and holy. I always wanted to be near her, to play with her. (Aren't we always attracted to saints?) She was very fragile physically so it wasn't possible to be with her much after she became ill. I know she hungered to receive her First Communion. I sensed, in my childish innocence, that she was going to heaven soon.

Matteo was the son of a client of mine. His mother had originally come to me because her doctor had recommended she abort Matteo's little brother and she refused. She'd come to the center, wanting to get support. Three years later, she called me, saying I was the first person she'd called to say Matteo had cancer and only a very few months to live. She wanted me to be with them. I was privileged to be with them for the next 9 months, every single day, except for a week in the middle when I needed a bit of respite from the intensity of the situation.

Sometimes, I would spell Matteo's parents by going to his hospital room in the evening and staying until he fell asleep hours later. I'd read to him, we'd talk about things, we'd joke with the nurses, I'd hold him as he screamed in pain. (His suffering was, at times, unrelenting and intense.) I knew that he liked to talk about "farts". Now, I was raised to be a lady and this topic was verboten in my world but I'd do anything to alleviate even a minute of his suffering so I entered right into the fun. Soon, his room became the "smelly butt room" and we cautioned anyone entering to hold his or her nose. I had everyone I knew looking for children's books on the subject. I acquired quite an array after a while. (Who knew there were so many written on the subject??? And, did you know they came in colors? That's what one book claimed!) His doctor, Dr. Partington, soon became Dr. Fartington and we had the nurses cracking up behind his back. (I suspect they told him eventually.) Every one of us would do anything to get Matteo to laugh.

Make a Wish Foundation sent us to Florida for a week, all expenses paid and spending money besides. Matteo wanted to see Mickey in his house and, given he had a little 3 year old brother and an 11 year old brother, I was invited along to help. It was the most miserable...AND the most grace-filled...week of my life! First of all, it was Holy Week and I was scheduled to play at many services, plus I would miss going to Mass on Easter Sunday. One priest friend gave me permission, "Oh, Joannie, God is calling you to be with this poor family. We'll get along without you fine." It was hot and humid; Matteo's parents were out of their element as they'd never traveled anywhere before; the kids were acting out, Matteo was in excruciating pain most of the time. However, we DID get to Mickey's house and had a "private audience" with Mickey. By the time it was over, everyone in the room, including Mickey, was crying, as we told the story of why we were there. Kudos to Make a Wish for trying to provide a time of relief, however!

When we returned from Florida, Matteo's mother insisted he be baptized before he died so I called on a local priest and he and I went to their house, he with a little plastic container of holy water and I with great gratitude that he'd said yes. Pandemonium ensued at the house--smoke filling the air from cigarettes and Matteo's brothers running around. Amidst it all, Fr. Tony talked ever so softly and patiently to everyone and baptized Matteo.

Matteo taught his parents about God. Early on, he told them God had come to him and told him not to be afraid because he was his friend and he'd always be with him. Later, he said he heard a knock at the door and asked his dad to answer. His dad told him the knock was for him and he could go through the door. Matteo died that day, October 30th, 2002.

There is one interesting side note to this story. I always have an extreme reaction to cigarette smoke. I get nauseous if I even get near clothes that smell of it. Matteo's parents smoked a lot and, during this entire time, I never once had a reaction to it, not even when I spent the night at their house. I am convinced it was God protecting me so that I could continue to minister to them.

Dan Hawkins was the board treasurer at the pregnancy center until he died of liver cancer. He taught me how to suffer and how to die. I wrote him an email once, telling him I was praying that his suffering be alleviated. He wrote back, asking me not to do that. He was using his suffering in gratitude for all the years he'd been in good health and offering it up for those of us he loved. I learned a lot, reading that email! As my boss, he brought Christ's love to me. Whenever we had a meeting, I always left, thinking I was far better than I actually was...Even if he had a criticism, he did it in such a way that built me up and made me want to do even better. He was the best at diplomacy and tact! I asked him once, before I knew him well, if he'd be one of the speakers at a parish where we were asking for financial support. He replied that no one would believe a curmugeonly looking man like him. That made me sad. I told him all I ever saw when I looked at him was Christ.

All of these people made a huge difference in my life and continue to do so even now. I know they are advocating for me and I am humbled and very grateful that they are.