Follow Him

Grieving. If we allow ourselves to feel or experience it, the feeling is very powerful. Grieving may readily be understood as the ache or the pain we feel in our hearts, the deep distress or great sorrow that we feel when, for instance, we lose a loved one. In Scripture, when we see Jesus weeping, I understand that I do not need to be afraid of my emotions but rather I need to learn to own them.

Seeing Fr. Bob decline in the last 33 months of his life was not an easy journey. When we thought on several occasions we were going to lose him, when we would rush to the hospital, when we would spend countless hours praying by his bedside, I felt the powerful thrust of feelings associated with grieving. I couldn’t kid myself into not feeling. At times my feelings sprung up with absolutely no warning.

Today, I recognize that I wasn’t ready for him to die when I received, back in February 2009, the first phone call preparing me for his imminent death. I knew he wasn’t feeling well but it was just weeks prior that I had last seen him. I had been meeting with him on a weekly basis building a relationship: with him leading me, him passing his wisdom, him teaching me the heart of our mission. I felt strongly that our time together was foundational to our identity as a community and I needed to soak in as much as I could. In my head, I was going to meet with him ‘forever’. Spiritually, I began to see how much of a father figure he was to my sisters and me. The thought of losing Fr. Bob left a very deep pain, a very tightknot in my chest. My heart felt broken and I was afraid that I hadn’t gained all that I needed to know to lead my sisters in fulfilling the vision Fr. Bob was leaving behind.

There were a handful of other moments like February 2009, when I thought to myself, “keep yourself together, take deep breaths, his death is imminent”. Every time he rallied through these ‘near death’ moments I realized that the pain was gentler. I was able to let him go just a little bit more each time.

On September 26, 2011 Fr. Bob’s ‘rallying’ journey changed. We all knew in our hearts it was time. The next 10 days were excruciating but I never felt calmer. It was as if I was ready, that I had finally come to terms with saying goodbye. On the eve of Our Lady of the Rosary, October 6, I witnessed a very peaceful and holy death. Then began a new relationship with Fr. Bob, a new strength was happening in my heart. I had the faith that he would intercede doublefold for the needs of the communities.

Following his funeral, we (the sisters) took some time to get away for a few days. We needed time to be still and away from any distractions. I prepared questions for us to meditate on, hoping that each of us would take this exercise to heart, and be authentic with the experience. Getting away and being together felt right. However, by merit, I thought I grieved enough; I had pained through the emotions already, and I’d been authentic with my grieving. I believed that I did not necessarily have to ‘authenticate’ my experience. I thought this time away was more for my sisters to grieve. I realized that looking at my grief was tough because it meant being honest and it meant looking inward. I was a little afraid I would find unresolved or painful emotions in my heart.

I was stretched most when I had to recite in front of all my sisters, a letter that I wrote to Fr. Bob (each of us had our turn). It was supposed to contain elements of what I was most grateful for in my relationship with him, of how I wished things may have been different, better, or more, and of how I have accepted his death. It was crucial that at the end of my letter I said goodbye. And a ‘p.s.’ was acceptable. If I forgot to include something within the letter or even if at a later date I wanted to add to the letter, an endless number of ‘p.s.’s’ was encouraged. It was a good letter. I said goodbye, had a good cry and added a few ‘p.s.’s’ at the end. Overall, on a scale of 1 to 10, I rated my grieving at an 8. I felt a peace in my heart.

I did not know what more to expect from this grieving process, but I was certain there was no more real pain left … or so I thought. It wasn’t until I was asked to write this article that something more stirred in me. For days I was fidgety, restless, and distracted. I lacked words. I could do nothing but stare at a blank page. My sisters even noticed something strange when they knew what task I had to complete and yet my hands were deep within the big freezer organizing all the food! My sisters spoke truth to me and reminded me that if I numb my feelings, I am numbing everything in life and I won’t get past the grief. They reminded me to feel and discover the truth of the loss.

Yikes! This was hard to swallow, thinking, “Ugh!, here I am grieving again”. I admitted to myself that I was numbing my feelings and when I went back to my desk, as I sat down, I remembered a moment when, a few weeks before his death, I asked Fr. Bob for a word. He said “Follow him”. I’ll never forget those two words. And today I understand more what he was trying to say to me then. When Fr. Bob said “Follow him”, I was also hearing, “You will always have my love. I will always be with you. It is time now to build your identity in the Lord. Trust and follow him. You don’t need to cling to me anymore. You are ready.” I realized I was afraid to be alone. I was scared I would not be able to fill the shoes that he left behind. I felt ill-prepared to complete such a daunting mission. With this realization, I knew I had to let go of Fr. Bob again. It was freeing. There is a peace and acceptance that even with these big shoes to fill, I’ll be okay. I can place my trust in the Lord full-heartedly!

P.S. Fr. Bob, goodbye once again. I will miss you dearly but I will not forget everything you have taught me. I will remain true to following him.