It really makes my day, the news, commen-
taries and the implied Humor.
12:00 PM - 1:00 PM NBC's "Meet the Press"
1:00 PM - 2:00 PM ABC's "This Week"
2:00 PM - 3:00 PM "Fox News Sunday"
3:00 PM - 4:30 PM CNN's "State of the Union"
4:30 PM - 5:00 PM CBS's "Face The Nation"
Listen at the link above WHILE you FReep!
So I went to church yesterday, again as the choir did not sing today. We DID sing on Christmas Eve, on this, the worst Christmas season ever for our choir….EVER!
For those that don’t know, a precious member of our choir died right before Christmas, succumbing to cancer of the jaw and after enduring a year of pain and a totally disfigured face….Lord that was hard to watch.
So he passes and we go to the funeral mass and the priest, during the communion, drops down dead, straight out dead, dead before he hit the floor.
Okay, that’s all behind though note that our choir Christmas party was cancelled because you can’t use the parish life center for under 80 people, shouldn’t the church employee who booked this have known that? I had the choir Christmas party at my house last year, we sang at a nursing home, it was great….this year….nothing.
So I am sitting at the 4:30 mass with my 4:30 mass seatmate-a book club friend who did not attend the mass when Father Mark died. This is important. She did, of course, know about Father Mark’s sudden death during mass.
One of the ladies, a trustee of the church in fact, I know her well….as she was giving communion….I am not making this up...SHE DROPPED DOWN LIMP AND DEAD IN THE SAME PLACE THAT FATHER MARK DIED!
I saw her collapse, though I wasn’t as close as I’d been to Father Mark, that time singing with the choir for my choir mate’s funeral mass please recall.
My knees buckled and I grabbed my seat mate in panicked desperation.
“I can’t go through this again,” I stage-whispered.
And I couldn’t. Every human being has their limits. My mind went haywire.
So the singing stops and panic, panic. The already consecrated communion wine was spilled all over the floor. People get towels et al to sop up the liquid, people gather round the lady….this goes on for over ten minutes. My mind was somewhere else, somewhere in a crazy place.
Our dear Lord could not, HE JUST COULD NOT, do this to quiet little St. Jude the Apostle church in Lewes, Delaware, could he?
As it would turn out the trustee lady did NOT die. In fact she didn’t even faint. Evidently she tripped. They managed to hoist her up and of course they called an ambulance. She’s alive though….and will be okay so I am to understand.
While this was going on, and as I shook and shivered, angry...yes I was, at a God who took my choir mate so cruelly, a God who allowed our priest to drop dead in His house, and now He kills the trustee? Again, in the church? Don’t lecture me. I know I was wrong but I was terribly distraught.
While all this commotion was going on, and as my seatmate tried to calm me by joking that perhaps I was the bad luck one. Heh. Well me and about over a hundred other people who were in mass the day Father Mark died.
So I told her my story as they desperately tried to mop up the spilled consecrated blood of Christ.
Father Mark, as I have ascertained since his death, knew he had tricky heart valves, this I learned after his death and at my choirmate’s funeral luncheon. The next step was a heart transplant the medicos told him. Father Mark was only 63...a year younger than me.
So I told my seatmate that Father Mark said a prayer to God and asked for certain stipulations should his heart suddenly quit.
My seatmate is listening to me, her eyes wide, lights flashing everywhere, people running. But she listens to my story.
I told her that Father Mark asked God that if he was to die suddenly, he would like it to be with no pain and no warning. Which he did. The man was dead before he hit the floor. Literally.
My seatmate smiles….she nods her head, encourages me to go on.
I told her that he asked God if he was to drop dead suddenly, please make it during a mass at the church he had served so well for over twelve years.
My seatmate’s eyes get wider, she smiles. “I’d go with it,” she said.
“Also,” I continued as chaos went on around me, “Father Mark asked that his last words be “Body of Christ”...seatmate’s eyes get wider, she smiles a bittersweet smile, if there is such a thing.
“Oh,” I continued as the chaos at the alter continued. “And he asked God if it could be at a funeral mass where the people were already sad, this to save a happy Sunday congregation from despair.”
My seatmate is now smiling, hugging me, telling me I got it right.
“And don’t forget about last rites!” I told her. “Father Mark was right in church and he had last rites toot de sweet. If ever a priest’s death was “perfect” it was Father Mark’s.”
Did you know a deacon can give last rites?
The trustee was removed, the consecrated wine covered with white vestments and time came to receive communion.
Meanwhile my Munchausen nut job of a daughter spent the prior night at the local ER. First, she loves ER’s and second, well her fingers were turning numb. That’s worth a trip to the ER, right?
Turns out she has carpel tunnel syndrome.
Anybody thinks they’re going to write a story of my strange life that God has some kind of plan for me, forget about it.
In 2015 I am writing the book.
PS-proving it’s a small world, a very close relative of my deceased choir mate contacted me...VIA FREEPMAIL as he evidently reads this very forum. THAT was a real treat. Hiya Mr. R…..coming back to Delaware yet?
Thanks for thread AB. Another missing airliner in “the news”. Another “lone wolf” jihadi.
Hey Rod, where are you? We can’t even hit 100 without you on the thread!!!