January 25th, yet another day I will not forget

As I sit here having a beer or 3 and watching status updates appear on Facebook of "RIP", "prayers" all while typing up the Cornerstone team schedule, I am reminded of 13 years ago of when I woke to the phone call that would in essence change my life.

I remember it like it was yesterday, I had just gotten back from my first March for Life, and my first RCIA retreat(I was a sponsor in the program), which explains why I was on campus that infamous Sunday morning.  The phone rang around 9am and I heard my roommate say, "she's here"; I picked up the phone and heard "It's Jacqi, Gary was killed in a car accident last night."  I don't remember the full conversation, all I remember hearing was Gary was killed.  I took it all in stride, no tears yet. Jacqi mentioned that Fr. Geno was having a prayer service that night at St. Anthony's so I called my friend Carol to tell her, and I remember that she called me back to make sure she wasn't crazy that I had actually said "Gary had died." I remember going out into the hallway so not to disturb my roommate to call my mom, I barely got the words to her when the tears came. I have never been one to wear my emotions on my sleeves, so the tears lasted probably while I said what happened.  I remember walking to a fellow student's, who happened to go to high school with me, dorm and leaving a note on his door.

My dad came and got me so I could be home for the prayer service.  I distinctly remembering getting to St. Anthony's that night and seeing people at the Church who had been at youth group, whom I had seen in high school, and I certainly remember some of them not being very religious. I remember being on the steps just hugging fellow former youth group members and high school classmates.  We eventually went inside the Church, and Fr. Geno stared the prayer service and he told us at some point that   "if we died because of something stupid he was going to come up there and kick our ass."  It got us to smile and laugh and that is what mattered the most then.

I returned to Seton Hall confused, and obviously came home for the wake, my mother wouldn't let me go to Mass, some excuse of missing classes, but it didn't matter whether or not I was at the funeral Mass, it wasn't going to change anything.  All it might have done was allow the pain, sorrow and reality to sink in slightly faster.

Like I said I returned to Seton Hall a very confused young adult.  I did things that semester I never thought I would do, I pledged and joined a sorority.  Thinking back on it, that was about all I did, I wasn't a drug user and I certainly didn't drink yet.  ;)  It was a drunk driver that killed Gary after all.

I was very active with Campus Ministry and I remember signing up to spend an hour a week at Adoration in the "main Chapel".  I sat in the very last pew on the right hand side, this way I could see who was coming in next and what was going on.  I sat there and ask questions of, "Why God, how could you do this, why G, he was one of the good guys."  I sat there remembering our college ski trip, roughly a month before Gary's death, where at a Burger King a conversation took place between Fr. Geno, a Holy Cross alumni and lacrosse player, and Gary, a Holy Cross student and ruby player, about which sport was better.  I doubt any of us thought this was going to be the last trip we would be on together.

Oddly and by God's strange sense of humor, almost always I end up teaching CCD and/or Confirmation in Gary's mom's class room.  A constant reminder of the saint watching over me.  13 years have gone by quickly, the tears still come, but amid them come the happy memories of youth group and of watching baseball games, of which Gary was a member, after track practice.  I know we weren't friends and didn't hang out, but at youth group it never mattered what group you were part of at school, we were all the same.  Gary's death sent that fact home, we're all the same, we're all children of God and God calls us home whenever He feels like it.

Not a retreat talk goes by without mention of Gary's death, because it is the event that caused me to question my faith, to wonder what God was doing.  It also allowed me to talk to a very wise priest who said "don't ask why, ask how, what, how can this help me, what can come from this."   I never thought I'd get my answer 2 years later when the fire happened at Seton Hall and my friends were going through what I had already gone through.  From Gary's death came me finding my faith, may my running home to the Catholic faith and Church. The questioning led to a switching of majors and that led to it's own set of challenges, but over all I learned that God does know what He's doing despite us not wanting to know or admit it. Gary's death prepared me for John, Frank and Aaron's funerals (SHU Fire), which in turn prepared me for John and Dennis' funerals (Sept. 11th), which in turn almost prepared me for Fiona's, Bernadette's, and Nicholas' funerals.

Time does heal all wounds, but the wounds don't fully heal, they reopen a tiny bit each time you remember, but then you also remember how awesome it is to have the Communion of Saints watching over you and praying for and with you.  


In all the yeas that I have written and given retreat talks, Gary's death always comes up because it really is the first time that I questioned my faith, questioned God and wondered what He was doing.  It would be through      Gary's death that I could later minister to my friends and show them that time does heal, but that the wound is never fully healed and that it opens up a little each year.

I often think of Gary up in Heaven playing with Fiona, Bernadette, Nicholas and now Owen, because Heaven is just one big party.  ;)

Sometimes you don't what to think.

This morning I woke up at 8am a fairly normal hour, I checked facebook from my phone because I am that addicted to it. I saw my friend James' status was "going back to NJ for a very sad day." I assumed it had something to do with his wife's side of the family so I let it go. About an hour later and after sleeping some more, I check facebook via my phone again. It amuses me that I do this because the PC is down the hallway in the living room. This time I saw Brendan's status say "pray" and I saw Britney's status say "praying for everyone." I knew with Brendan having pray up that it was James' side of the family and when Britney (a friend of the family) had something written I thought "uh-oh."

Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would get the text message that I did get. So after seeing these statuses I send a text message to my friend Bridget (she is James and Brendan's Aunt) and I say "What happened or what is happening, I only ask because of James', Brendan's and Britney's statuses on facebook." I got back a very straight forward message that said "I didn't get to call you yet, but it's Nicky. He's dead. We're going to the hospital." I read the text message and I knew what it said and I responed back with a "holy crap, what the hell happened? tell katie and everyone that i'll be praying for everyone."

I honestly expected to be something about Bridget's father, and I don't know why her dad came to mind first but he did. I never thought I would read, hear, see the words Nicky's dead. Nicky is Bridget's grand-nephew or great-nephew what ever you want to call him and Katie is her nice and Nicky's mom.

I re-read the text message about 4 or 5 times before it really sank in and then again it really didn't until a little while later when James (Katie's brother, Nicky's uncle and then Bridget's nephew) left a message much like the one I left for our friend Kelly, you know the classic, "when you get this call me back, I've got news that I'm not leaving on a message."

I had of all things a funeral Mass to go to so I went off and showered and continuously checked facebook via my cell phone at times wishing that somehow Bridget's text was going to magically change. I went to the funeral Mass and tried my best to think of and pray for Joann, whom I know from the Cornerstone Retreat team I am on, who is the wife of the man who the funeral Mass was for, but I couldn't my mind was completely on Nicky and Katie. Fr. George was preaching to the family of the man who died, he was preaching to all of us, but it was geared towards the family. Fr. George spoke of love. All I could think of was yep that's why it hurts because I love Katie and Nicky. I know where Nicky is, he's in Heaven with his cousins Fiona and Bernadette and his great-aunt Teresa and his great-uncles Matthew and Owen, who also were taken home to God earlier than we would have liked. I'm sure there's other family members up there too, I just know their names.

Nicholas Tolentine Alexander Knock (yes that is his full name, he was born around or on the feast of our Lady of Knock so that got tossed in, and Alexander came from Fiona (who died about a month and a half before Nicky was born) whose middle name is Alexandra), may you rest in peace, your short life brought great joy to those of us who knew you, even if I was the crazy one with the camera that you saw once in a while.

Katie my prayers are with you as you will need them more than anyone. I want to do nothing more than just hug you right now. My prayers are also with the family, I've know you guys for 10 years now and from the first time I met you I was treated as family. Hell, most of you consider me family.

Life is so confusing at times. God has His plan, we may not understand it, but we have to go with it.

Two years

It does not seem like two years since I got two messages from Bridget, one saying, "you need to pray for Mary Ann, something happened to/with Fiona" the second "call me back when you get a chance I have sad/bad news." I was working at New York and Company at the time so I wouldn't have had my phone on until I left, which was usually 11pm or later as I mostly closed. I know the above messages are not word for word, but I knew from the moment I heard the first one what had happened. For the rest of the time I worked at New York and Company I hated turning on my phone after a night's work. It honestly took me 45 or more minutes to call Bridget back. I didn't want to do it on the way home, as I was driving, once I got home I couldn't bring myself to hear the words, "she's gone." Eventually I sucked it up and called and heard what I expected to hear, Fiona had died.

Here's the short version of the story, Fiona somehow at the age of 23 months managed to move a kids table over to the edge of the deck climbed up fell over the deck wall and fence into the pool area and was found face down in the pool. Bottom line of the story is that she died.

I remember going to work the next day numb as I didn't even know how to phrase what happened to my manager and to tell them I wouldn't be in on the days of the wake and funeral. I eventually told one of them and left it at that.

I remember looking at the small coffin with the pretty little girl in her pretty little dress with her beautiful curls in it. I remember how her Aunt Bridget and I made first class relics by simply touching Rosary Beads and other articles to Fiona. Mary Ann, Fiona's mom looked at us and once she realized what we were doing, she laughed.

That night Aunt Bridget and I ended up, well Bridget more than I, I was simply there to keep Bridget company, making the pall that would go over Fiona's casket. It was simply beautiful, a piece of white satin, with tulle around the bottom of it, with roses on the corners. We literally flew by the seat of our pants while making it and some how it came together, we know it was by the grace of the Holy Spirit. When we finished it, Bridget and I simply stepped back and looked at the pall lying on the dining room table and both said, "It's wrong that it's so pretty." We stared at it and eventually turned to each other and said, I can't look any more or I'll start crying, and seeing as we found a way to laugh while making the pall we both decided that the crying was best left for the Mass of Christian Burial. So I went home only to return to Newark the next morning for the Funeral Mass.

Mass was obviously sad, I walked in to see an honor guard of Irish Dancers in full uniform, who really did look out of place, but little Fiona loved watching her brother and sisters dance so she got an honor guard of dancers. Heck I dance around the house sometimes knowing she's probably watching. Larry aka Fr. Larry told us during the homily that Mary Ann told him that he was going to sing her a good African Spiritual, and Larry did, he started his homily out with "Swing Low Sweet Chariot coming forth to bring me home... and then went in to his homily, finding a way to make us laugh and cry." The hardest part was hearing Dan, Mary Ann's brother-in-law start to sing Elmo's World after we all laughed, we all cried, as Elmo was Fiona's favorite show and character. We walked out crying as was expected and it was raining slightly, and all I could think of and as Mary Ann's off the boat Irish mother-in-law said, "happy the corpse the rain falls on." Yep, leave to the Irish to say something like that, as Mary Ann and I said later, it always rains over there, they had to come up with something!

That day continued on with the actual burial part and the traditional meal back at Mary Ann's sister's house. Eventually I ended up staying over as the Peter Smith School Feis was the next day and I wanted to watch Mary Ann's kids dance.

It really doesn't seem like 2 years ago, but I know that it is. Fiona's death brought me closer to my faith and to the idea of Church Militant and Church Triumphant closer to me as well. The terms Church Militant, Church Triumphant, and Church Suffering aren't used anymore or at the very least not spoken about too much and I miss it. We connect with the Saints and saints (no I am not repeating myself, there's a difference between saint with a capital S and a lower case S) in a awesome way at every Mass and with Fiona's death that idea was brought closer to home for me.

Fiona is not the first "young person" for me to bury, honestly she's not even the youngest, her cousin Bernadette holds that honor, but she is one of the youngest and her death brought Heaven closer to me.

Fiona I will continue to pray to you, especially for parking spots, you and Tony are great at that, I will talk to you about others that we need to work on, and yes I know that you can run up to Jesus and sit on His lap and whisper our prayers to Him, if not I'm sure Mommy aka Mary is telling Him for us.

Fiona may you continue to rest in peace and to pray for us!

Fiona Alexandra Marie 7/13/04- 6/19/06

sometimes things are closer to home than you think

During the war in Iraq I often thought it would be Mike (high school acquaintance and son of one of the deacons at my parish) or Paul (best friend's brother) I would hear about, however when they announced on the news the names of 3 soldiers who died over there on Monday, in particular Greg Dalessio, I thought, I know that name... did I go to school with him.Sure enough I got a link today from a fellow SHU alum via facebook and I can't place or remember how I know him, other than campus ministry keeps popping into my head. It will drive me nuts until I figure it out and now work study is popping into my head too, for all I know it could have been student ambassadors, but I'm thinking campus ministry.Captain Gregory Dalessio SHU classes of '00 MA '04 may you rest in peace and thank you for your ultimate sacrifice and love of your country. Without men (and woman) like you this country would be nothing. In doing a google search for Greg's name in an attempt to see how I knew him I found some interesting pages. This one in particular struck me as interesting. A news article on him from the Courier Post, the paper in South Jersey. am sure that more will come up on this topic...for now I'm off to sleep as it's the last day of CCD and it's been a long week.

Tim Russert

When checking my e-mail, I better be careful as the last time I started a blog like this, I got some lovely *rolls eyes* comments from Mr. or Ms. Anonymous. Any way when I check my e-mail I normally glance over and skip the CNN headlines/breaking news. I don't get them very often anymore so I decided to click on it today and imagine my surprise when I saw simply stated, Tim Russert has died of a heart attack, he was 58.

As is typically when a celebrity or some other well known person dies I immediately text my friends. Jokingly, and I mean jokingly I said is this a sign for liberals, both friends I texted are conservative like myself. The responses of shit, no way are given and we all go and check the news.

I actually rarely watched Russert's show, but from the debates that I suffered through, suffered because of the candidates not him, I was impressed with how he handled himself. I don't like that he was a Democrat and Catholic, but alas it is hard for people to get away from that stereotype, but overall he seemed to be a genuinely nice guy. It is stated that he just returned from a trip to Rome, as someone on another blog put it, "there is no better time to be called home than after a trip to Rome", the Eternal City. Before people get up in my face about being annoyed that he was a democrat and Catholic here is my reasoning.

Catholic teaching: abortion is wrong no matter what
Democrats are strongly pro-abortion
therefore a Catholic should not be a democrat, notice I did not say can not, but only should not, though I do lean more towards can not. These are my thoughts take them or leave them, don't go leaving comments if you disagree, you are not going to change my mind and I more than likely will not change yours.

Too many people look at abortion as a simple issue and lump the pro-life movement into this whacked out sect of Christianity. Abortion is always wrong not matter what, war while not the best or greatest of options is not always wrong, there are time when it can help. Just look up the just war theory.

Anyway, my prayers go out the Russert family, especially Tim's wife, and son as they return home from Rome and have to grieve publicly. I can only imagine the heartache of knowing that Tim was in the US while there were in Rome, how would they know that that good-bye in Rome would be there last.

Rest in Peace Tim Russert.

Fox News has a nice story on him as do most of the other news stations. We had MSNBC on before we left for the feast at the parish and I can honestly say it was one of the few times I could handle listening to Keith Olbermann. I give the anchors at NBC credit for getting on the air and being able to handle a friend and colleague dying literally at work. 58 is young to die, not as young as I have unfortunately had to see and deal with, but still young none the less. Mr. Russert lived life and seemed to enjoy it.

Eternal Rest grant unto him O Lord,
Let perpetual light shine upon him
may his soul and the souls of the faithfully departed
rest in the Mercy of Christ.
Amen.