"Brace Yourself": On The Seventh Anniversary of My Grandchild's Death

The other morning, I was awakened from a deep sleep to a memory from Kitty's funeral: my daughter, Mandy, standing at the ambo, delivering the eulogy with no sign of wavering, no indication that she would break down.  She wore her carnation pink suit and led everyone seated in the pews in singing "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star."  We all sang, we all cried.  Mandy held herself together.

The priest presiding at the Mass didn't think she could do it, but promised her that if she was able to get through a practice run for him, he would allow her to memorialize her child during the funeral.  And so, she did.  I was proud of Mandy that day and I will never forget her courage and strength.  But what made me recall that moment as I woke the other day?  Why did it rouse me out of such a deep sleep? ​

Read More