A Memory that Keeps Hearts Going

Holy Thursday, 2000

At 5 AM, my dad is in a bed with an IV, being prepped for surgery. My brother and I are in Maryland preparing to fly down. My brother and sister who live in Texas are by my mom and dad's side.

They pray with him, laugh with him, hold his hand and sing "Dona Nobis Pachem," and then, maybe because Dad is doped up, maybe because he sees how worried they are, maybe becase Dad doesn't like when others are worried, they keep singing songs...some Kingstron Trio, some other stuff, but the song that my mom tells me about, is the Wild (not Gypsy) Rover.

Mom said that people stopped and listened. (Dad used to sing this song to her when they were dating, or as he would say, courting). So here people are preparing for emergency quadruple by-pass surgery, and the family preparing is singing Irish drinking songs.

My brother told me, nursing staff were crying at the scene;

the broken voices, constant eye contact, prayerful, off key, on key, sotto voce, loud sniffles, self abasement, constant hand holding.

Dad drifted to sleep.

Then my brother went to the chapel, prayed a rosary, cursed at God, implored him, and it's all a blur. All he could remember was Dad scratching out on a sheet of paper upon waking and seeing all of us, "My cup runneth over."

And it did. The story itself has earned a spot in our family lore both for the response to suffering, and for the great healing of telling it. Today I told the story to a friend who is facing a similar challenge and she felt alone because she recently lost someone very important to her heart, to her family.

I told her I would post this story, pray for her, and invite others to do the same, and if you can, around 10:30, sing in the off tune, out of tune or perfect pitch voice you have, the Gyspy Rover for my friend, so as she sleeps, she knows the Church Militant (here), and the Church Triumphant (The saints) and the Church Suffering (those who perhaps played the Wild Rover for many a year) are praying with her and are with her in this trial.

And my brother shared with me a video of Dad singing with him on Christmas, 2012. He died on Ash Wednesday of 2014. When I married, he sang the Notre Dame Fight song to me to help me calm down before walking down the aisle. (I was shaking). I suspect he's singing to each person as they enter for the same reason.