I was asked to be acolyte for my first funeral at St. James, my home parish. I was there for a funeral a couple of months ago, for my wife's best friend Jean. Our usual acolyte Barbara isn't usually able to help at funerals on Thursday, so I was called and I accepted.
The funeral was for a lovely lady named Marie, I looked up her obituary and prayed for her before the funeral, than set up for a most beautiful funeral Mass. A family member got up and spoke about how well loved she was, and how she made everyone feel loved. Our Pastor talked about God's love, and how the loss of her father at a young age was formative. He assured us that her love was now within everyone who loved her, especially her family because her love was from God, So this love will not end, will not die, even though the person is physically gone. I was aware of little problems I was having in preparing for the funeral, and with some of the logistics of the service. (After all the acolyte leads the procession with the cross, not following the priest and the urn, correct?)
Guess what, my little problems did not enhance, nor deter from Gods work at that service. I only hope that my little problems never take away from Gods service. I also hope that dispute my problems God's love can shine through, and as it does I will smile, not for myself, but for my ever-loving God who set up this whole thing.
So I went home, and my mom, who is in a retirement home, wanted me to try and fix her answering machine (answering machine... really?!?). So I go with my sister for a long overdue visit to mom, she was about to sit down in the dining room for dinner, but she brought us up to the room to look at the little misbehaving beastie.
We stopped in the hallway to talk to mom's friend. Now I sometimes do a communion service on Sunday for the residents, but I have not been there in a few months. I miss the folks and apparently I am missed as well. Mom's friend tells me to pray for her mother who passed away. I questioned this, and in doing so, discovered that we had the funeral for Mom's friend's mother this morning.
I assured her that I was there, and praying for her, her mother and her family.
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So we get to mom's room and the little gadget gets power but none of the buttons work. It is a model whch does not have tape or anything serviceable, so a little shaking, jiggling and otherwise manhandling the device made no difference.
Well, mom wants the thing to work, but it doesn't. I tried to convince her that voice mail could be an easier option, but the concept was confusing. I told her we will have to look for a new one.
Now I have to find me a time machine to go back to the time of answering machines. And start going to visit mom on Sundays again.
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