Tuesday, August 21, 2012
Sunday, August 19, 2012
....and life goes on.
Those of you who know me in "real life" are aware that I enjoy certain automobiles. OK -- the truth is that I'm a car nut. Some of my children share my appreciation for the loud beasts that boast hundreds of horsepower, and to that end, we scheduled a trip to the Corvette Museum in Kentucky for another look-see.
Most of you who read this blog are also aware that my father-in-law has been seriously ill for the last year, and I know that you've prayed fervently for our intentions and for his bodily healing. Things were going very well for him until about the last six weeks.
When we realized things had taken a turn for the worse, we canceled our trip to the museum and instead went to my in-laws' house. From there, some of the kids and I made a couple of day-trips to Pittsburgh while my husband stayed at home with his parents, just visiting and performing necessarily-neglected maintenance around the house.
One of our stops in Pittsburgh was St. Anthony's Chapel in the Troy Hill district, which boasts the largest collection of relics outside the Vatican. We prayed in the presence of the Saints for the physical and spiritual healing of our loved ones. Afterwards, we visited the Strip District and attended Mass at St. Stanislaus Kostka church. (I won't do a Mass review, but will summarize charitably by saying that the church is terrific for picture-taking.)
Through the weekend, my father-in-law was feeling ill, but managed to chat and joke around with us, demand pictures of the churches in Pittsburgh, and enjoy the kids playing the Wii.
We left the house on Sunday afternoon after the usual lengthy good-byes, see-you-next-times, and love-yous. I hugged my father-in-law, who was sitting in his bed, and held his head against my shoulder. I felt his thin frame and wondered how he had the strength to hug me so tight.
My mother-in-law called very early the next morning and said that he was was having difficulty breathing and couldn't be awakened. Although he was conscious later when my husband got there, he was barely able to communicate. He died a few hours later after receiving the last rites of the Church.
My father-in-law was a very fine and good man and a true gentleman. He was a man of honor who worked hard, loved his family and made many sacrifices in life for their good. (He even drove to work two hours EACH WAY for six years so that he could provide for his family.) He was smart, very funny, and could strike up an interesting conversation with anyone.
Although I'd like to wax poetic about the glories of heaven and the eternal reward of those who die in a state of grace, the truth is that his passing hurts like hell and we miss him terribly.
Requiescat in pace, Dad.
Most of you who read this blog are also aware that my father-in-law has been seriously ill for the last year, and I know that you've prayed fervently for our intentions and for his bodily healing. Things were going very well for him until about the last six weeks.
When we realized things had taken a turn for the worse, we canceled our trip to the museum and instead went to my in-laws' house. From there, some of the kids and I made a couple of day-trips to Pittsburgh while my husband stayed at home with his parents, just visiting and performing necessarily-neglected maintenance around the house.
One of our stops in Pittsburgh was St. Anthony's Chapel in the Troy Hill district, which boasts the largest collection of relics outside the Vatican. We prayed in the presence of the Saints for the physical and spiritual healing of our loved ones. Afterwards, we visited the Strip District and attended Mass at St. Stanislaus Kostka church. (I won't do a Mass review, but will summarize charitably by saying that the church is terrific for picture-taking.)
Through the weekend, my father-in-law was feeling ill, but managed to chat and joke around with us, demand pictures of the churches in Pittsburgh, and enjoy the kids playing the Wii.
We left the house on Sunday afternoon after the usual lengthy good-byes, see-you-next-times, and love-yous. I hugged my father-in-law, who was sitting in his bed, and held his head against my shoulder. I felt his thin frame and wondered how he had the strength to hug me so tight.
My mother-in-law called very early the next morning and said that he was was having difficulty breathing and couldn't be awakened. Although he was conscious later when my husband got there, he was barely able to communicate. He died a few hours later after receiving the last rites of the Church.
My father-in-law was a very fine and good man and a true gentleman. He was a man of honor who worked hard, loved his family and made many sacrifices in life for their good. (He even drove to work two hours EACH WAY for six years so that he could provide for his family.) He was smart, very funny, and could strike up an interesting conversation with anyone.
Although I'd like to wax poetic about the glories of heaven and the eternal reward of those who die in a state of grace, the truth is that his passing hurts like hell and we miss him terribly.
Requiescat in pace, Dad.
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