A native son from my hometown of Roxborough went missing on the morning of Thanksgiving.
His name was Shane Montgomery and he was a 21-year-old college student.
He had seemed to disappear into mid-air and there had been a search in the area until January 3, 2015, when they found his body in the river in the area.No foul play: the death had been ruled an accident.
I have three nephews who are now over 21 and I can not begin to fathom the pain and grief that Shane’s parents and family are going through.What is touching me even deeper is that I grew up two blocks from the mom’s family and know them from the neighborhood.When Jim and I got married and joined our parish, we became friendly with Shane’s Aunt Maryann and Uncle Fred.
They found Shane the morning after I retired.I am now 100 miles away from my hometown and was unable to get there for the viewing and funeral.I was there is spirit, though.Tonight on Facebook, there was an even to light a candle for Shane. Yes, I did participate.To honor Shane’s memory, not to light his way to heaven because I truly believe he is there, and to send the candle flame to the Montgomery and Verbrugghe families.
Your son has become my nephew, and my heart is broken, as is yours.My candle is lit and my prayers are continuing for your family.
“Good night, Sweet Prince.”
I was fortunate enough to meet him in 1966, when I was in first grade. The Polish band of missionaries, called the Pauline fathers, we building a giant shrine in Doylestown, Pennsylvania, called the National Shrine of Our Lady of Czestochowa, home of the Czarna Madonna in America.He was only Karol Cardinal Wojtyla then.
As I was brought up Catholic and am of Polish heritage, when they made him the Pope, I rejoiced with all Polonia when The Holy Father was installed.I avidly followed his travels,prayed with concern during his attempted assassination, prayed with him as he failed with Parkinson’s disease. I Cried as I was up early watching his funeral.
It goes without saying that I was up at 3 am yesterday morning watching “my” Pope declared Saint.I had a little tear in my eye thinking of my family who would be watching the proceedings in heaven, My dad was five months younger than the Pope so it goes without saying he followed his papacy with interest, and for all I know, he can be rubbing shoulders with him in heaven now.
Saint John Paul II, ora pro nobis.
I do sick calls for the Church.
I see three, maybe four people.One of them is my pal Sue.
After getting off the phone now, I have mixed emotions.Her secondary caregiver informed me they started her on hospice yesterday. She is getting morphine for pain every four hours.
Sue and I have talked about dying and pain and how she wants to see her Mom again, and the two of us believe she will.Being Catholic, it’s one strong belief we both share.She could talk about it to me, because we know we could always talk about anything.We even kind of laughed about it, because the last time we talked about it, we chuckled that she would have the last laugh and one day I’d come down to see her and she won’t be there.
So I’ll go see her today, and Jim and the girls will go with me.I know in my heart that she wants to go, but as I type this, I know the emotions I have will be rough. I don’t even know if she’ll be awake from the morphine.
She has been a major part of my married life. She was a friend I could talk husbands with, talk dogs with, joke about weather girls with.
I always joked that when she goes to heaven, to help me out while I am down here.I’ll miss her, but she will always be in my heart.
We went to a funeral today for one of our closest friends. He was 81 and had Parkinson’s disease. He was one of the nicest guys around and we will keeping him in our heart.
Now we all are going out to hide out for a little while this weekend.
Enjoy your Friday!
I am dreading today and am glad to be working .
Yes, it is Christmas Eve, but being of Polish descent, it’s when we ” did” the holiday .
So this is life after Mom’s death.
No Christmas pin can make it right. No Mom= loss. My heart is in my gut thinking of past Christmases.Dad was gone and now so is she.
It’s going to be a long day.
Hold a good thought, ok?
I need it.
It’s been a year, Mom.
A year since I got to sing Happy Birthday to you.
A year since I gave you some chocolates, fuzzy socks you always liked, and sang Sto Lat.
Well, you didn’t make one hundred . You hit eighty- nine. I was blessed to have you for fifty-two of them. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t miss you. I miss those blue eyes, that soft touch, that smile.
Happy birthday in Heaven, Mom. I know Dad made the pound cake for you , not our favorite 1-2-3-4 cake. I’m glad Dad is with you to get you your first heavenly birthday card.
Our December birthdays won’t be the same without you.
…to my Mom’s birthday.
She would be 90 this Tuesday and it is rough.
We were mother and daughter and occasionally we were partners in crime back in the early days, but this month was the one bond we both had in common-DECEMBER. You see her birthday was the 18th, my nephew Gregory turns 23 on the 19th and I round it up on the 22nd.
I remember how I was watching Mom during one of last year’s hurricane threats and it had turned out that there was actually a tornado watch in the area. What was I going to do? Stay in a closet and watch Mom and her hospital bed get sucked out the window? I made up my mind, and despite whatever the level of the threat was, I sat on the kitchen chair that we kept by her bed and held her hand and talked to her in Polish. I remember thinking to myself that if I were to be hit by lightning or something else happening, it was appropriate, as I was holding the hand of the woman who brought me into this world. How fitting would it be if we left this world together. In short, I was as calm as could be because I was with Mom and knew whatever would happen, we were together.
I know how people always will tell you the first year is the hardest, and I can vouch for a fact that it is. If I can get through the birthday week, however, I’d like to think it’ll be ok. I know she’s with Dad and they are having the 1234 cake that she used to make, and it’ll be a good, heavenly birthday for her.
I just wish it didn’t hurt so much.