By popular request I'm going to keep writing, but I think I'll shoot for once per week. And it will be much less a status report on the family, and more to entertain, enlighten, and generally make you say "Hmmmm....". I'll still write about the kids some, but return a little privacy to them. Look for new posts at The Harrigan Report, starting next week.
The cards and letters have continued to roll in here at home, along with many notices of donations to either the American Cancer Society or the National Ovarian Cancer Coalition. Thank you, all of you.
Rachel's burial service was at 9am today at Calvary Cemetery, attended by about 15 family members and led by Fr. Tom. It was a beautiful fall morning here in Evanston, and the center of the cemetery was quite peaceful. The service was short, and felt somewhat anticlimactic after last week's wake and funeral. The grave marker takes a while to get engraved, so it will be installed in about 6 weeks.Calvary is a remarkable place, with graves dating back almost 150 years. There's something special about this connection to the past -- I feel the same way about the bits of church Latin we still learn and use. Our time here is not the beginning, nor the end; that's both a comfort and a challenge, I think.
Those of us who knew Rachel will miss her greatly, for a long time to come. But we'll get on with life -- you could say "because we have to", but I think it's better to say "because we're called to." We're called to recognize that the world is basically a good place, that death is a part of life, and that mourning is an appropriate phase, not a new lifestyle. We have things to do -- today, tomorrow, and the day after.
So let's keep Rachel in our thoughts and prayers, and also pray for each other, that we may find peace and carry on.
Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, miserere nobis.
Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, miserere nobis.
Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, dona nobis pacem.
Pat
3 comments:
Pat, this was written by someone else widowed with young children. Thought of you:
Grief and hope try to be friends, but it isn't easy. Grief pulls back, gets scared, loses its mind in the past. Hope moves forward quickly, not even imagining all the trouble that might lie in wait up ahead. Hope is full of energy. Hope wants to branch out, try something new, get out and get going.
Grief takes a big long nap and is grateful for the quiet. Grief needs to lose weight and feels too heavy to get up and start all over again. Grief holds on tight to what is known. Grief demands an accounting of all that's been lost for fear that it will disappear altogether.
Hope says, "Fine, let it all come along for the ride. There's plenty of room. All are welcome here."
Grief wants very badly to believe that Hope can be trusted. Can they really co-exist? If they get together, will they be betraying anyone else?
Hope sings, voices echoing into the future, moving with confidence into unknown territory. Grief mutters in the background. Grief is simply exhausted and needs something to lean on.
"Lean on me", says Hope. I will always be outside your door and if you let me I will help you. It's what I'm here to do.
Grief rests her head on the pillow and pulls the covers up under her chin. She closes her eyes, invigorated by the darkness. She could stay here forever imagining how it used to be, how it could have been, how everything is alien now.
Hope sits on the screened front porch basking in the filtered warm sun, holding a cup of tea. Grief lumbers in, squints uncomfortably in the light. but takes a seat anyway.
"This feels like a good beginning for us," says Grief.
"No hurry," says Hope. "We can get up whenever you're ready to go.
Dear Pat,
You don't know me, but I'd like to make an introduction. I am a friend of Kelly Glivar's and when your wife first went into the hospital she reached out to me and asked me if I could ask my "network" of Christians to pray for her (that's my terminology, not Kelly's). I love Kelly dearly and would do anything for her, so this was an easy request to fulfill...and not something she has ever asked me to do before. I am Italian and can tell you I come from a long line of praying people, so I hope you are comforted to know that there were many people praying for your wife that you will never know about. I asked everyone I knew that was a powerful prayer to put her on their prayer lists as well as on the lists of any groups that they pray with.
I share this because your story is inspiring. That is odd to say, but as life ebbs and flows what is an evident theme in your story is the presence of love and God. So thank you for sharing honestly what you were experiencing and for reminding us of God's powerful words. At the end of the day, we all face challenges and struggles - God guarantees them - but he also promises to be with us if we invite Him in. I am sorry that this was one of the challenges you have had to face but I hope you know that by sharing it, you have made a difference for many people.
May God continue to bless you with peace, comfort and healing and may he keep your family in his precious care.
Warmest regards,
Deborah Smith
dvalella@yahoo.com
Pat,
I've been carrying around the notice from the Pioneer Press for 10 days now, and just signed the guestbook today -- I don't know if it's too late. Rachel would have been proud of the beautifully written piece on her that appeared in the Evanston Review and Sun-Times.
I knew her because I'm also a real estate agent (I'm at Coldwell Banker on Central Street) and my husband knew her from her days at the Northern Trust.
Many agents in my office were very upset by her illness and seemingly quick death. Lots followed your blog and marveled that you had the strength and courage to write it. I was afraid to read it because I kept hearing that the news wasn't good. I also heard that her priest visited her every day. We knew that she was surrounded by love until the end.
May the love that surrounded her also be with you, Fiona, Conor and Emmett and may peace be with you.
Gigi Kushla
Coldwell Banker
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