When I was twelve yrs. old I lost my father to a heart attack. My mother had to return to the workforce after many years of being a stay at home mom. She took his death very hard. Not only had she lost her best friend and husband, but she still had to raise me, her youngest of 4 children.
My mother, who was a strong woman, picked herself up and headed back to the world of working determined to survive. It was an adjustment for both of us. In the blink of an eye I became a latchkey kid, and the world around me changed.
I cooked dinner most nights and made sure the house stayed picked up and clean. Learning to be independent was good for me because it helped me to become a more confident person.
But my mother still worried about me, especially on the nights she had to work late. Even though I was a responsible child, with common sense and good judgment, my mother hated to leave me home alone. This is where a very special priest stepped in to help.
Fr. B., as we liked to call him, offered me a job at the church rectory in the evenings. It was a small job to answer the phones and take messages. He told my mom he would even pay me $50 per week.
It was an answer to her prayers and a safe place for me to go to after school. I got dinner every night, time to do my homework, study and make some spending money as well.
Little did I know that this small gesture of kindness on Fr. B’s part would turn into a lifetime of friendship and love.
In the years that followed I developed a close relationship with Fr. B and the staff that worked for him as well. He was truly a man of faith who took his mission as a priest to heart. He actually became a father figure to me.
He was there when I needed advice and gave me the most inspiring books to read and contemplate. I enjoyed our long conversations about life and religion and respected him immensely.
He always let me decorate the Christmas tree and when his mother came into town I took care of her on the nights I worked. This weekly job turned into a summer job as well and lasted until my second year of college when I went to Northwestern State University.
But the relationship did not end there. Fr. B. would be a part my life until he died in September of 2010.
This part-time job turned into a lifetime of memories. Of course he was there when I was baptized, received 1st communion, Confirmation and the death of my father. But he was also there when I got married, baptized my own children, and eventually buried my mother.
After Hurricane Katrina, I made sure to find out where he was and if he was safe. He was a part of my family. When we came home from Florida to visit, we always went to see him and have lunch. He knew the best places to eat!
Everyone in our family loved him, especially me. He was the father I never had in life. He helped me to grow not only in faith but in life as well. I was honored to have shared my hopes, dreams and family times with him.
In the light of the negativity with priests in the Catholic Church, I have to say Fr. B. was a man of God who not only shared his faith with me and my family but his own life as well.
The last time I got to visit him at home he took me and my family into his bedroom and showed us a picture he kept by his bed. It made me cry when I saw it. It was my high school graduation picture.
He told me to turn it to the back and recited for me word for word what I had written to him over 25 yrs. ago. My heart sank into my chest. He still remembered!
On the day he died I was working late at school. I started to feel overwhelmed by the thought of him so I picked up the phone and called him. Instead of him answering the hospice person did. She told me he had slipped into a coma and they were expecting him to pass at any minute.
I began to sob hysterically and the hospice woman calmed me down. She told me if I was thinking of him then I should talk to him through prayer and tell him how I felt. She believed he was waiting for me to say goodbye.
So, I took her advice and talked to him through prayer. My tears subsided and I felt a warmth engulf my soul that I had felt only one time before when my mother was dying. I knew then that he had heard my prayer. The warmth I felt were our souls uniting for the last time on earth wrapped in God’s love.
Til this day I miss him and dream about him from time to time. I know he still watches over me and is still a part of my life in the spiritual way. He’s my new guardian angel. Continuing on his priestly mission of spreading God’s love and graces to us all.
Recent Comments