Author Archives: tom

John Kennedy: 1917-1963

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If John Kennedy were still alive he’d be celebrating his 90th birthday today (It’s also the birthday of my friend Pat but she’s not as famous). President Kennedy was killed in Dallas when he was 46 and our memories of him are always going to be when he was a young man. If there are any advantages of martyrdom it’s that he did not have the burden of aging. Of the Kennedy brothers, we’ve only seen Ted (b.1932) age. Joe Jr. (1915-1944) and Bobby (1925-1968) also died before their time.

It's Memorial Day and Business is Good

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I say this tongue in cheek because the purpose of Memorial Day is to remember those who have died in uniform. As I write this 3455 troops have died in the war in Iraq (this does not count those who have died in Afghanistan, civilian contractors in either country, or native civilians). A few days ago my friend Carol sent me the link to an article in the Seattle Times that’s worth a read. I’m not sure when I’ll get back to Arlington Cemetery but when I do I’ll make a point of going to Section 60.

Is Your Dog Incomplete?

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I put this under the “chuckling” category but I have to admit I’m roaring with laughter. There was a story in the May 18th edition of our local newspaper the San Diego Union Tribune. It seems that if you have your male dog neutered, his testicles are removed. Until now your dog would spend the rest of his life living with the recognition that the whole world could tell. Now we hear from Robert Dominguez of MCT News Service that your dog can have “testicular implants” (called “neuticles”) and nobody will be the wiser. The manufacturer claims this is will help your dog’s self esteem. They can be made from several materials and come is sizes from petite to XXL.

You know, I try to stay cynical enough to keep up but stories like this remind me that I’ve got work to do.

More Reflections on Those Who Have Gone Before

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In addition to Aunt Aldea, there has been another death in the family. Nancy’s father Al lives with us and his cousin Bob Graner died on Sunday, May 13th. Bob lived in Los Angeles (practically under the flight path of the airport). Last week we received a call from Bob’s son Steven who said that Bob was on hospice care and wasn’t expected to live long. Though Bob and Al were cousins, they grew up next door to each other and really thought of themselves as brothers. The day before he died we went up to visit him and it was a good visit; he and Al were able to talk about the old times and remember people and events that they shared 70 years ago. I talked with Rob, one of Bob’s sons, who said that Al was likely the one person Bob was waiting to see. That’s probably true because Bob died 14 hours later. His Mass of Resurrection is this Friday.

Bob was not a young man: he was 88 and had been a widower for a little over 7 years. He was certainly ready to go and reunite with his wife. I wonder about all the stories that are lost with his his death. We all stand on the shoulders of those who have gone before us and I like to think we have heard much of what Bob had to say. But he had memories of people we never met. I was thinking about that when I was wandering the cemetary after Aunt Aldea’s death. Because of my genealogy research I knew the names of many of the family members buried there, but I never knew them. They are really just names and dates for me and I’m afraid every death makes them more and more remote.

So on Friday let us raise a glass or a prayer for Bob and all the people he is reuniting with in Heaven.

The Page Is Returning

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If you’ve been trying to sign onto this page in the last week it’s very possible that you’ve gotten an error message. The person who administers this page had a catastrophic hard disk crash and essentially had to build this page back up from scratch. I saw him last night at church and he looked fairly sleep deprived. Having said this, as I write this the page again isn’t loading correctly.

The one thing we haven’t been able to retrieve is the comments people have left. My apologies, but the function should be operating now so feel free to leave comments and feedback.

Thoughts on Gardner, Family, and Funerals

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I’m writing this the evening before I leave Gardner. I’m not sure when or if I’ll be back. As I told my mother I can’t imagine never coming back but at the same time I don’t know of anything that will compel my return.

This was the town my parents were born in and where they spent their childhood. They were barely adults when they left but when I was growing up this was always where we went for vacation. A few years as a pre-teen I would come up for an entire month and when I lived in Boston in the early 1980s this was the weekend/holiday getaway. My grandparents are all gone and all my uncles and aunts here are in their 80s; I’m finding my cousins harder and harder to keep in touch with and I barely know their children. There are no more funerals I’ll feel I need to return for. Simply put I don’t know if this is my last visit here.

It’s an odd sensation: I’ve never seen this town do well economically but I’ve never seen it worse than it is now. It makes me sad because I know the stories of when this was a good place. Nobody I know got rich here but it was a town where a person could work hard and make a good living for himself, where factory wages were enough to own a house and put food on the table for your family. Now the factory that was really the heart of Gardner has been converted to elderly housing. The center of town has more abandoned storefronts than anything else and most of the businesses I remember are gone. There is a feeling of quiet desperation here.

Even though I’ve never lived here, Gardner feels like the place of my roots. I know so much about this place that I feel like I could move in a fit in right away. I used to think about what it would have been like to be a priest at Holy Rosary and it was a good feeling.

But change happens. I’m aware that few members of my family live their whole lives in one place. My paternal grandparents were born in New Brunswick and died in Gardner. My father was born in Gardner and lives in Virginia. I was born in Virginia and now live in San Diego. Each generation has done better than the one before (at least economically) and is more mobile. Perhaps the cost of this is watching the old places die.

Then again, no matter what, I’ll have good memories of Gardner. And if this is the last time I visit, I can take away the satisfaction of knowing that it has been a good place for me.

Aunt Aldea’s Sendoff

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This morning we celebrated the Mass of Resurrection for Aunt Aldea. I was blessed to be one of her pallbearers and the lector for the second reading. The mass was at Holy Rosary Church in Gardner, Massachusetts. The pastor, Fr. Andre Dargis, celebrated the mass and he did a wonderful job. He talked about how he used to kid her about how little she ate and how he hopes she is fully enjoying the Banquet Feast of Heaven. I can’t imagine anyone doing a better job or having known her better.

I was also pleased to see that her doctor, Dr Michael Mutchler, came to the wake. He cared for her for about 6 years and talked about how much he will mis her. It’s nice to know she was so well cared for during that time.

All in all I think she must be pleased with the sendoff she got. It was an honor to be able to participate.

OK, It Was Just a Few Hours

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In the early hours of Saturday morning, April 28th, Aunt Aldea slipped away. I’ve spent several hours today talking with various airlines making plans to fly to Gardner, Massachusetts for the funeral on May 2nd. As I remember her my mind is filled with slides, but mostly I’m getting my mind around the fact that I’ve known her all my life, but only the last 46 years of hers. My earliest memories consist of when she and Uncle Bill still ran Bill’s Market on Cross St. in South Ashburnham. They closed it in the late 1960s when his health began to fail. They converted it into a garage (since it was next door to their house) and game room. Shortly after he died in 1981 I was going through stuff there and found a revolver. It was the first (and only) time I held a handgun and couldn’t believe it was there. When I asked Aunt Aldea about it she matter of fact told me that they kept it around when they had the store. Fortunately I was able to convince her to get rid of it.

I know this happens whenever we lose somebody of a previous generation but I don’t remember when she wasn’t there; neither does my mother. I think a great deal about the The Greatest Generation but Aunt Aldea was from the generation before the Greatest Generation. These were the folk that remember World War I and the first time they saw an airplane. When we lost her yesterday morning we lost countless stories and memories. I will miss her.

Aunt Aldea

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A few weeks ago I wrote a post about my Aunt Aldea and how she is beginning to slip into the last stages of her life. I just heard from my parents that it may be within the next few days. She’s in the nursing home and is essentially nonresponsive. This process could take just a few hours, or it could stretch into a week or longer. This has always been the most mysterious part of the dying process for me. I believe the person is beginning the transformation from this life to the next but none of us really knows what it is like. We always assume that the person can hear (that’s why it’s bad taste to start dividing up the stuff in their room while they are present) but don’t even know that for certain. I’ve seen people have conversations with people who died years before and I suspect they may be talking with them. The good news is that the pain medication seems to be working and she isn’t in any real discomfort. She will be missed.

Does This Put Limbo in Limbo?

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This is probably only amusing to us Catholic who remember the Baltimore Catechism but the Vatican has updated its teaching on limbo. The Church used to teach that a person had to be baptized to go to Heaven. This led to the obvious question of what happens to babies who die before they are baptized; clearly they did nothing wrong and nobody wanted to think they spent the rest of eternity in Hell alongside people who missed mass or used birth control. Out of this concern came the belief among some (though never an official teaching of the Church) that these babies went to a place called limbo. It wasn’t Heaven (and in Dante’s Inferno it was the outermost circle of Hell) but it was a place of contentment.

This was never much consolation to new parents, who didn’t have enough to worry about already, and many rushed to the church to baptize their children. Now the Vatican has caught up to many of us in believing that God isn’t interested in most of our rules and that these babies were created by the same all loving God as the rest of us. On April 20th the International Theological Commission found that “there are good reasons to hope that babies who die without being baptized go to heaven.” About time.

If you want a good laugh check out the blog of Sr. Martha Mary.