The Faithfully Departed: Memories & Prayers

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Edwin1961

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Let me explain this thread and hope that the purpose of it will be shared by everyone who contributes to it in loving memory of those we love.

Let me set this up…
Last night, I was pondering how to post my 10,000th. on CAF. Maggieodae already posted a rosary thread for my mother who would have been 84 years old today. Twenty-Two days after the last birthday she celebrated, our mother died of cancer.

Originally I wanted my 10,000th. post to be the starting of this thread and I wanted EVEYONE to share in it by making this thread a memorial thread for those who you remember fondly, whether it is your parents, siblings, spouse, friend, teacher…whoever!

You can post as much or as little as you want about the person (depending on how private or public you want to be about your departed loved one: I will be using my mother’s maiden full name). My posting can be used as an example.

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Caroline Golide Gall
October 22,1921-November 13, 1994
In Eternal Memory!

revejj2000 and Edwin1961
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Mom, We Miss You and Pray for us in union with Our Lord!

Mom loved Pineapple Upside Down cake and coconut macaroons.
http://www.elise.com/recipes/photos/pineapple_upside_down_cake.jpg
 
(Edwin- this post is still special- I’t’s your first on the “other side” of 10,000- so- it’s a new beginning! :D)

**I would love to dedicate this post to my late Paw Paw and Grandma.

Harry Sylvester, and Doris Lee Buechel.

They have been gone 15, and 16 yrs. and I miss them very much.

-Eternal rest grant unto them O lord… :)**
 
I’m dedicating this post in memory of my dear husband who would have been 69 years old on October 20th… died 14 years ago…

Enternal rest grant unto him O, Lord.

And let perpetual light shine upon him…

**May his soul and the souls of all the faithful departed ( especially Goldie), **

through the Mery of God, rest in peace,
Amen
 
My sweet Edwin, your heart seems to grow a size every time i see things like this. You are prescious to think of this kind of stuff!

For me, i have written a lot about my sweetheart of a son that passed away Jan 9, 2004. He came into this world 5 weeks early, and left it 5 weeks early before his 19th birthday. He and i were on our own for so long, rebuilt the lost bird he thought he was. By the time he was 16, he had surpassed most of everything i knew about God. I knew it, i taught it, tried to live it, and he exemplified it.

At every turn, he showed me Gods love and mercy. In knowing him, i can attest to fully understanding his unconditional love. From heaven, we have more than Gods love and guidence, we have our loved ones dearest prayers for us. It simply makes me feel so loved to have their concern still.

I am very lost in his absence, have no suport at home, or friends in this to share, but i have CAF. It has placed before me knowlege, education, and an oportunity to find the things that i found lacking in my life at home. I have friends like Edwin, Brotherhrolf and so many more (post not long enough to name all the angels) that have brough me off of the floor of wonderment and dispair. They did not only heal my heart, they helped me change my heart to a deeper understanding of the docturn and reasons for the things that the church supports. How i would have missed out otherwise.

Now i can say that i AM getting closer to my God and my Son.

Thank you!..this is my Will…

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I still struggle with Dad’s death. Being more involved in his last 1.5 years with his conversion to the Catholic Church and taking my name (Edward) as his confirmation name and having his Funeral Mass, still causes me to shed a tear or two.

May his soul and all the souls of the faithful departed through the mercy of God rest in Peace. Amen.

John Joseph Janoch, Sr.
28 December 1923 + 19 September 2002

Peace,

Fr. Bro.
 
In Memory of My Brother William - KIA Vietnam-September 21, 1967

My Tribute to Bill which I wrote on the occasion of my first visit to the Vietnam Wall

**The Empty Tomb **

As I approach the wall in the early morning light, the sky is gently showering everything with dew. Here at the break of days new dawning, I come much like Mary to visit the empty tomb. I come not with spices, but with my heart wanting to speak to you once again. Today I come to meet with my brother, my best friend.

I know deep within me that we are still kindred in spirit, together and yet apart. We have shared the days of our childhood and we have felt the sting of death. Yet, for all of this, nothing can really ever separate us…not even a broken heart.

William…my sweet William, how I long to see you once again. Can you hear me? Do you see me as I search for your beloved name? Many years have passed since I last spoke with you and beheld your dear sweet face. Then, again, it seems like only yesterday that I stood beside your open grave. Brother, teacher, companion and friend…how the memories do ebb and flow. Can you see me? Do you hear me as I search for your beloved name?

Suddenly as though from a lighthouse…a tiny ray of sun seems to point out your beloved name. Billy…dearest brother, I know that you still watch over me. Can you feel the mist that is falling? Can you see how the dew drops look just like teardrops, as I caress your beloved name? I counted 16 teardrops falling…one for each letter and character in your name.

Do you remember bat-light, butterflies and fishing in the rain? Do you remember how you taught me to fish and then threw them all back into the lake once again? You said, “We should never waste God’s beauty or abuse the bounty of His land.” Do you fish the lakes of heaven, still teaching the little ones? Do you walk the fields with Jesus and…OH! Do you still sing slightly out of tune?

Here in the misty morning sunlight, I feel close to you once again. I can almost hear you singing…”Halleluiah! To Christ our King!” Best of all sweet William, it sounds perfectly in tune. William, my sweet William, it is time for me to go.

Billy dearest brother, I shall always love you so. I know now deep in my heart, that you are safe and well. Now not even 16 teardrops falling, can take away my joy for you. “ Vaya Con Dios,” until we meet again.
 
I dedicate my post to both my Grandmothers, my Grandpa, and my PawPaw. I never knew my Grandmothers, but I grew up around my PawPaw and Grandpa, and I miss them. I also dedicate this post to my great Aunt Nell, who died awhile back, and to everyone else in my family who has died. I miss them, even though I never got to know some of them, because I was too young. God Bless them all.
 
How do I know who to start with? So many names, so many faces…My parents, my grandparents, the godmother who became my mother when my parents were killed in a horrific accident…They all compete…Every one of them could be a story each his/her own.
The wonderful Dutch grandmother & great-grandmother that I acquired when I was born, really–no blood connection, only that of the heart…
Who stands out? Where do I begin? Everyone of them had a part to play, everyone was the star…I have had not 2 sides to the family, but 3: mother’s side, father’s side, & side connected by the enormous hearts of a family who seemed to collect “waifs”.
They all live in memory, each has a face, a voice, and I find I cannot choose. I can only thank them, every single one, who seem to encircle me…My own private cloud of witnesses, surrounding me with their love, their prayers…
I miss them all, I love them all still…I speak to them, as I move through the rooms of this house that so many of them called home–or a home away from home.
The house remembers; that is my lifeline: There, my parents stood & were married. That was my grandmother’s bedroom. There is my great-grandmother’s favorite flower vase, & another great-grandmother’s picture–towered over by her “tall” daughter who never stood over 5’ even in her life.
That tree, my father planted. Here, a calendar from the 1920s, that my grandfather printed, and a cookbook–the same, with recipes from both his mother & mother-in-law in it, printed to raise funds for new church windows…(He took his pay not in funds, but in an ad inside, with the phone # of his printing business…the 1st telephone on this street).
A cloud of witnesses, indeed. No need to explain the communion of saints to me; I live with it, in this house where their memories live still. The house remembers; it is for me, Holy Ground.
God bless.
 
Zooey,
Each post can be for each person.
Don’t rack your brain to cram everything in one post…ok?
 
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Edwin1961:
Zooey,
Each post can be for each person.
Don’t rack your brain to cram everything in one post…ok?
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Thanks for clarifying that Edwin…I wondered about that…My Mom’s anniversary of her death is Nov 4th, but I thought it and others should be separate as we go along.

But Zooey…I loved yours…powerpacked and heartfelt. 👍
 
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Siena:
maggie- your post made me cry!
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Billy would sing to you, and say…Don’t cry for me…We each have an alloted amount of time here on earth.I dreamed the Impossible dream, but God gave me so much more. Heaven is Eternal. 🙂
 
Jen Saballa - died Oct 2 1996 at the age of 21, from Ewing’s Sarcoma. An incredibly beautiful girl, gentle & sweet, who suffered patiently. You touched all who new you, Jen.

Eternal rest grant unto her O Lord
Let perpetual light shine upon her
May Jen’s soul and the souls of all the faithful departed
Through the mercy of God
Rest in peace. Amen
 
My brother Joe was a victim of Hurricane Katrina.

Joseph A. Farry
Born November 12th, 1958
Died August 30th, 2005

He is now with my mother in the hands of the Almighty.
 
My mother died many years ago but, as those of you who have lost a loved one know, the pain may dull a little, but it never goes away.

Catherine Rose Evanson Farry (“Connie”)
Born December 2, 1925
Died December 26, 1985

I love you, Mom.
 
Sadie January 17, 1992 - October 2,1999

Our little Angel who blessed us all.

Sadie’s Rose Petals

On a glorious morning in June of 1999, I was admiring God’s amazing handy work and daydreaming about the warm summer days ahead. The cold gray winter days had faded into spring. Spring had brought forth the colors of life and rebirth. Roses and all the glorious summer flowers were just bursting into bloom. I was enjoying the fruits of my labors by sitting in my small patio garden and planning for the summer months ahead. Pictures of the family gatherings and outdoor summer BBQ’s were dancing in my head.

The ringing sound of my telephone would change those thoughts in an instant. Never in my wildest imaginings, could I have envisioned how very differently that summer would be. It would begin a family journey of great trials. A journey that would be filled with fear, heartache, and tears that none of us could have foreseen on that early summer morn.

As I strolled into the kitchen to quickly catch the phone call, I had expected a cheery greeting on the other end. Immediately though, I knew by the sound of my Aunt Dories voice, something was very much amiss. Her voice was tense from struggling to control her tears. She quickly explained that her daughter (my cousin Terry) was on the way to a Trauma hospital. Her sixteen-year-old son Kelly had been in a terrible car accident. He had flat lined several times on the way to the first hospital they took him to. Their parish priest had jumped in the ambulance as it sped away. He had given Kelly the last rites. It was touch and go as to whether Kelly would survive. With a quick goodbye, we began a summer’s journey, which would take us over roads we never would have planned to travel. Roads, which would stretch our faith to the maximum and then some. A journey, which would ripple with sorrow, tears and fears affecting us all deeply before it was over. Some say trouble comes in three’s. That summer it certainly held true for all of us.

In the days and weeks following the accident, Kelly remained in serious condition. In July they moved him to the “Children’s Hospital” in Denver, CO. Kelly was still in coma, but in Denver he was close to a larger part of our extensive family. Terry’s brothers and sisters all live there. It helped ease the burden somewhat. Terry and Dwaine (Kelly’s parents) had a large support base to help out with Kelly’s care and the hospital visits. Terry’s sister Pam, and her family were a large part of the support team caring for Kelly. Pam’s little daughter Sadie was the littlest Prayer warrior for her cousin Kelly. She and Kelly were very close, and even though Sadie was only six, Kelly had always been her hero.
 
Through all the weeks of Kelly’s remaining in coma, Sadie made it her project to pray to her favorite saint, “St. Theresa the Little Flower.” Sadie was adamant that Saint Theresa would gain a miracle for Kelly. She knew her cousin would be well again, because she said; “St Theresa had told her so.” In return, Sadie had promised God that she too would help the missions, just like Theresa had always wanted to. We were all amused at her Mission fervor and her faithfulness to prayer.

Sadie’s vigilance paid off. In late July, Kelly came out of coma and made remarkable progress. We were all relieved and elated of course. As for Sadie, she took it in her usual stride. After all, St. Theresa had told her it would all be just fine.

In August, just as things were beginning to look up, another tragedy struck. My son Randy was in a car accident and also seriously injured. Again our family circle gathered in prayers and support for one another. Sadie’s “St Theresa” was our prayer companion as well. Sadie’s beloved Saint Theresa was again listening to Sadie’s childlike prayer it seemed. The last week of September it appeared as though our worlds were finally coming back to normal once again. Kelly was home and in rehab and progressing quite well. Randy was completely well and life looked wonderful again.

No one gave much thought to the minor surgery coming up for Sadie. It was just a routine Tonsillectomy so the family prayer chain just said a little prayer. We giggled at how Sadie was so brave and said St Theresa was going to make sure she could eat French Fries when she got home from the hospital. She wasn’t very happy that she would have to wait several days for the Fries, but she did like the fact she got ice cream whenever she wanted it. The surgery was on Monday morning and she was home by that afternoon. Sadie, was just one of those children that nothing seemed to phase much. She could entertain herself for hours talking to her imaginary friends, to Saint Theresa and to Jesus.
 
The following Friday began with a check-up at the doctor’s office. After that, Pam and the girls (Sadie and her sister Laney) went shopping. Pam and the girls kept finding Rose Petals on every aisle they turned into in the store. No one seemed to know where they came from. Sadie took it in stride as only a six year old can…She was sure St. Theresa had sent her Rose Petal’s for being such a good patient and dutifully not eating any French Fries when they had stopped for lunch before going back home.

Friday night, the girls played until bedtime in their playroom. Sadie drew pictures for her Mommy and Daddy. They were the kind of children’s art, which all parents know are better than any the artist Picasso could ever create. At bedtime, Glenn and Pam listened to the girls say their nighttime prayers and everyone dutifully let Sadie say her favorite prayers to Saint Theresa and to her guardian angel. All in all, the day had been quite ordinary, except for the mysterious Rose Petals.

At the time, I was in Marytown, IL at the retreat center. I was on a pilgrimage to offer our thanksgiving for God’s marvelous mercy and answer to our prayers that summer. From place to place in my travels I also kept finding mysterious showers of Rose Petals. On the Feast of St. Theresa, I attended a special Memorial Mass for her Feast Day. I was in awe that I was the only one allowed to take a picture of the statue. It is very old and precious, so cameras are not allowed. As I snapped the picture I found a shower of Rose Petals at my feet once again. I decided it must be a picture meant for Sadie. St. Theresa would want me to give it to her I was quite sure.

Just as I came in the door from the airport on Sunday morning, my husband told me I needed to call my Aunt Dorie. By the way he quickly turned away with tears in his eyes, I knew something was very wrong.
With my heart in my throat, I quickly dialed the number; all the while thinking Kelly must have had another crisis. Instead, my Aunt delivered the terrible news that our little prayer warrior Sadie had died. Sadie’s scab had come off during the night and she had hemorrhaged to death. Pam found her on Saturday morning, when she went to wake her up for breakfast. Sadie was covered with blood and so was her room. It appeared she had tried to get out of bed and get to her parents in her last moments of struggling for life. But the hemorrhage was so massive; she never made it out of the room.

Through the days that followed, we all clung to Sadie’s beloved St. Theresa to give us comfort. Losing a child is a nightmare beyond belief. Losing a child so unexpectedly has got to be even worse. For the first week Pam and Glenn were not allowed to make arrangements to bury Sadie. The police cordoned off the house as though it were a crime scene. It took and autopsy and the doctor’s surgical records to get the body released for burial. The doctor had accidentally cut the carotid artery during surgery and lasered it shut, along with the normal wound of a tonsillectomy. The doctor never mentioned the mistake that she had made during surgery. A mistake, which would take my family to our knees once more in prayer. This time the prayer was one of grief with out the hope of physical healing. They were prayers of anguish and heartbreak. We had no ability to even ask…”Why God? Why Sadie?” Although I know we all must have thought it from time to time. Sadie, ever the faithful prayer warrior would not have been pleased if we had.

As if to punctuate Sadie’s happiness and trust in God, my Aunt found a seemingly heaven sent sign, while cleaning up the playroom before the funeral. There on the play table was Sadie’s last drawing she did of herself. She drew herself with angel wings. It was covered with those same mysterious Rose Petals and it was signed; “Sadie – I am so happy. Jesus Loves Me!”

In the end, we have suffered and we have been blessed. We have grieved and we have mourned…but we know nonetheless, that Sadie is safe and warm. Sadie is enjoying the vision only she could see when she gave us the courage of her little prayers for our family members in need. As Pam and Glenn testified at the rosary vigil the night before the funeral…”She was ours but for a little while. God gave her to us on loan. He gave us a beautiful child to return to Him as a saint, when she was finished with her mission. The mission she accomplished much too soon for any of us. We are now the family of a Saint.” For this we shall all continue to “Thank God.” Sadie’s mission in this life has blessed us all.
 
Wow - Maggie and all, thanks for painting pictures of God’s great love.
 
Maggie, what a beautiful and love filled testiment to Sadie…and the evidence of clear fingerprints of Gods work in motion. The story is very much full of love, and pain. I know this pain, and my heart goes out to her parents. It is so inspiring to know that God can and does speak to children, if we but teach them how to have faith in the Lord.
 
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