Dad – Restless Pilgrim

Restless Heart: 12 – “Memento Mori”

November 4, 2017 pilgrim Leave a comment

Nessa and I could not meet up this week, so I recorded a solo where I talked about meeting Christ in my Father’s death.

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Episode 12: Memento Mori (Download)

— Show Notes —

* “Memento Mori” is a phrase in Latin which means “Remember Death”

* If you were wondering where Whidbey Island is, it’s here.

* The book I referenced was “Something Other Than God” by Jennifer Fulwiler:

“The Catechism explained that praying for the souls of the dead is a tradition going back to the first Christians and to the Jews before them… The living sent their love for the deceased into the spiritual world, like adding water to a stream that would eventually float their lost friends home“

* Don’t believe me about the ninja boots? Here they are.

* The Psalm I quoted was Psalm 84:6

Blessed are the men whose strength is in [the Lord]… As they go through the Valley of Baca [weeping] they make it a place of springs; the early rain also covers it with pools.

* The poem I quoted at the end was “As Kingfishers Catch Fire” by Gerard Manly Hopkins:

…for Christ plays in ten thousand places,
Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not His
To the Father through the features of men’s faces.

* A written version of what I said in this podcast is available on my blog.

Podcast

Meeting Christ in my father’s death

November 3, 2015 pilgrim 11 comments

My Dad’s birthday party (2007)

Today’s article is one which I’ve wanted to write for some time. You see, 2015 has been a very eventful year for me, but unfortunately much of it has been less-than-pleasant. In fact, I think I can say without exaggeration that this year has featured some of the most painful experiences of my life. Not least of these events was the death of my father in July. Up until now I haven’t said much about this publicly, but I would like to share a little bit about it today…

I had spent Independence Day with friends on Whidbey Island. It’s a truly delightful part of the world and I had a wonderful time there. We spent the day at the pool and had an evening of fine food and board games, followed by fireworks at the beach. The following morning, for some inexplicable reason, virtually everyone in the house rose early and went for a three-mile run. Since it was early on the day after a national holiday, we pretty much had the island to ourselves and in the crisp, early morning air, we passed several deer as we made our tour of the island. It was beautiful.

It was after breakfast that I received a message from my family back in England, asking me to call. A knot formed in my stomach; I had a suspicion as to the reason for this message. I excused myself and went out to my car, where I called my Mum. She confirmed what I had feared: my Dad was dying.

You see, my father had been diagnosed with Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma several years before. After several rounds of chemotherapy, his health seemed to be under control, but in recent months things hadn’t been looking so good. Infections had become increasingly common, necessitating numerous speedy trips to the hospital. My Mum said that Dad had suffered yet another infection, but unlike the previous ones, this one was certain to kill him. She told me that the hospital staff said that there was nothing more they could do and that it was unlikely he’d last another twenty-four hours. After hanging up the phone, I composed myself and went back into the house, said my goodbyes and was soon on my way back to Seattle.