My Aunt, my Godmother passed away on St. Patrick’s Day. I suspect it’s a pretty good day to leave this earth for an Irish(wo)man. After Jesus welcomed Aunt Joan home, and she was reunited with her dear Tony and my grandparents, I imagine she also had the chance to meet St. Patrick. I think my dad, her little brother, would have appreciated that.
Our family came together last night for Aunt Joan’s wake. Time has gotten away from us, like it always seems to, and that was the first time we’d all been together since my own father’s wake. Of course my heart turned, a little selfishly, toward him.
I think about my dad all the time… things he said, things he did, how he would have loved Sarah’s sense of humor and Sean’s political leanings. His laugh. His smile. His excessive grumpiness. But I’m not visual. I don’t see him when I think of him. I think that’s why I was so caught off guard at my Aunt Joan’s wake when I saw my other aunt. In an instant, I saw my father’s face when I looked at my Aunt Ann. The resemblance caught me completely off guard. But it was amazing at the same time! I just blubbered, burst into tears, and probably really confused my 89 year-old aunt!
I can’t stop thinking about it. My dad has been home with Jesus since 2003, but I got to see his face today! God is so good. The more I think about it, the more I think God did that for me. I didn’t even know I needed it. But God did.
I want to hold on to this memory as long as I can. Days like today,opportunities to visit with loved ones and celebrate those we’ve lost are meant for reflection, to help us to remember where we came from.