Won't Be Scarred Like That

April 8th is the day my Dad died... It was Good Friday that year.

We had thought his flu-like symptoms were what they seemed, so as I set up a vaporizer in the bedroom I used to share with my younger brother, he said "You're a good son, lad," And I wished him a good night, hoping he'd be more comfortable.

A few minutes later, my mother heard him gasping for breath and recognized the same peculiar sounds she'd heard about three years before, when he had survived an aneurysm that burst in his chest.

So I dragged my Dad out of what had been my bed, and performed CPR as Mom called an ambulance. He was gone before they arrived... And only God knows if he said anything else after I'd left him.

There are times when the best you can do won't help...
But you try, if only to be a good son.

I'd never seen the upstairs part of the parish where we held his funeral, the following Monday... I'd only been to the basement where they held mass, confession and novenas invoking intercession from Jesuit co-founder St. Francis Xavier. It was impressive up there and they'd saved some Easter lilies to supplement the funeral flowers.

I didn't know the priest, and I'm not sure if he knew my Dad, but the homily was eloquent and rich with the promise of resurrection and everlasting life. And I wondered if Jesus also might have thought the best you can do won't help... But you try, if only to be a good son.

Whatever his sacrifice did for the sins of the world, it hadn't stopped them from happening anew, and repeatedly... The parish church was one of six in my hometown in the Southern region of the Archdiocese of Boston, and not immune to the clergy sex abuse scandal there.

About 5 years before the funeral, and nearly 30 before it would become another small piece within a stained glass picture of massive scandal, a slightly older guy from my neighborhood told me in pre-adolescence he'd been molested by a priest from the same parish.

It was an odd combination of apology, confession and explanation... His reaction to being a victim had been to become a victimizer, too.

I have no authority to prescribe penance or grant absolution. I'm just an ordinary child of God, not one ordained... Stumbling through life wanting to face my own challenges with character, and other peoples' challenges with compassion... Trying my best to be a good son.