It happens whenever someone dies. After the initial shock passes, you start thinking about when the wake and funeral will take place — and whether it will get in the way of your work-family-entertainment plans. It’s a sucky way to be, but it’s human nature.
Today’s mood music is very appropriate:
My great-grandmother died hours before my 25th birthday. Her daughter — my Nana — died on Columbus Day weekend in 2003. Papa died the day before a major relaunch of the newspaper I was working for at the time. So yes, I’m one of those jerks who got caught up in the inconvenience of death.
Sometimes, I grin as I think of how the granparents were probably getting back at me for not visiting them often enough. They could be deliciously devious that way.
So here I am again thinking about the inconvenience of death. Poor stupid me.
This time the inconvenience is the death of my pastor, Father Nason. He didn’t have a devious bone in his body, so I know he didn’t pick his time of death to mess with my head. He was one of the greatest men I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing, and I’m down about his passing, as is EVERYONE in All Saints Parish.
My former employer, The Eagle-Tribune, has this very well-done report on Father Nason today. Thanks for the write-up, Mike LaBella.
So here’s the inconvenience: His funeral is this weekend, when I will be away on a Cursillo retreat, a leader on the team. Saturday morning I’m scheduled to give a talk. So the conflict in the brain goes something like this: Do I duck out of the Cursillo and pay my respects, or stay at St. Basil’s and put my full soul into the proceedings?
On the advice of Father Martin, leader of St. Basil’s, I’m doing the latter because, as he put it, that is where Father Nason would want me to be, doing God’s work.
Father Nason’s big question to everyone was always about how we get more people to come to church. Cursillo is one of the answers.
I hope the rest of the parish will understand.