DEATH

AND 

RESURRECTION

Each day is a gift.
Each death is a mystery.
Each tomorrow will be surprise.
Each resurrection because of Christ
will be our Easter suprise and mystery,
even though, as with Christ,
others will be crying at our grave.

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2009

DEAD FLIES

ON A WINDOW SILL

I once heard an anthropologist say,
“It was a significant day
in our evolution as humans,
when some hunters and gatherers
stopped to bury a dead one –
not just tossing him or her
off to the side of a path.

“They paused – prayed – said significant things.
They watered the ground with their tears.
They marked the spot – knowing next year
they would travel this same trail.”

As I thought about that, I wondered,
“Did someone take a tiny rock
from that place, put a hole in it
for a leather piece of cord and
then wear it around their neck?
Did they touch it in the times of missing?”

We are more than dead flies on a window sill.

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2009

CRINKLE AND STATIC

IN THE AIR

Sounds like there are sounds, sounds,
sounds, everywhere – crinkle and static –
hum and jackhammers – someone trying
to get the last 4 potato chips
from the bottom of the bag,
the bag just a tiny bit bigger
than their hand. Then I hear a car alarm
going off from the street or somewhere –
sounds, sounds, everywhere.
Then a bird chirps a series of peeps,
taking me away from my inner chatting
about what happened last night.
So with all this crinkle and static in the air,
I find it difficult to listen to you.
Sorry. So could you tell me again
what you’ve been trying to tell
me all these years? Oh, you’ve been
trying to tell me the same thing
has been happening to you too. Oh, okay!

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2009

FATHER’S DAY

INTRODUCTION

Every Father’s Day in St. Joseph Parish they have a unique custom at the Father’s Day Mass. Instead of a homily, the pastor, Father Day, yes that’s his real name, has 3 fathers from the parish say a few words about what being a father means to them. Unlike himself and his homilies, Father Day asks each to say what they want to say in 3 minutes or less.

And just to cover himself, because only priests and deacons, are supposed to preach homilies at a Mass, he gives a few seconds homily. This Sunday he said, “Today’s Psalm Response says, ‘Give thanks to the Lord, his love is everlasting.’ Let’s say that everyday, especially when the storms of life shake our boat as we heard in today’s Gospel, because we know Jesus is in our boat. He might be asleep, but he's in our boat.” Then he invited the 3 fathers to come forwards to speak one at a time.

This year I was able to get a copy of the 3 talks – saving me from having to do a homily this Father’s Day. So here are the 3 short talks. Obviously, it would be better for you to hear the talks in person – but this is not St. Joseph’s Parish.

FIRST FATHER: RICK JACKSON

Hello, Good morning. My name is Rick Jackson. I’m married to that beautiful woman there, Rita, who keeps me on the straight and narrow. She’s sitting there with our 3 wonderful kids, Rachel, Ricky and Robby. And notice she’s sitting there not smiling. In fact, she’s nervous because she knows I could make a fool of myself – that I might say something stupid and she’ll have to pick up the pieces.

Fatherhood. Fatherhood changed my life – with the birth of our first child, our daughter, Rachel. Before she was born, I kept hearing comments from the folks at work, especially dads, “Wow are you going to be in for a surprise! Everything changes when you have that first child.”

Well, everything did change. Schedules. Expenses. Cries and rattles in the night. At first I loved it. I loved saying, “Honey, relax, I’ll see why Rachi is crying” – and I would let my wife Rita sleep on. When our 2nd and 3rd kids, Ricky and Robby, arrived, this wasn’t as easy.

Fatherhood. I learned about giving. I learned about letting go – and life is impossible to control. I learned about surprise. I learned about God. Having kids got me back to church – got me to understand faith and hope and charity are important gifts to carry in one’s heart and mind.

Fatherhood. Fatherhood got me not only thinking about my dad, but it got me talking to him – like I had never talked to him before. Various guys had mentioned this, but hearing about something is nothing compared to experiencing something. So dad and I find ourselves comparing notes from time to time. Neat.

Fatherhood. What’s the biggest thing I experienced? I learned about what’s really important: God, people, my wife Rita, our kids, values, each day. I learned to be grateful – very grateful. So to you fathers here today and those of you who help kids and family: Happy Father’s Day – 2009. Thank you for listening.

SECOND FATHER: NELSON DANKSON

Hello, my name is Nelson Dankson. Hi and good day. Happy Father’s Day to all the fathers here. I want to thank Father Day for this opportunity to say a few words about fatherhood.

Where to begin …. my father. Let me begin with my father.

He drove a long distance 18 wheeler – cross country – for a living. He was a high school graduate – a good athlete – loved country western music as well as my mom. We grew up seeing a great marriage – a great mom and dad who loved all 5 of us. My father was often on the road, but he made missing him worth while when he got home.

My mom and dad – as well as one of my brothers – have passed away. I find Father’s Day as well as Mother’s Day – tough days – because I miss them. We were a close family – and we still are – but when the two pillars fall, mom and dad, the house called family is never the same.

My wife Marsha and I wanted a big family, but we were blessed only with one kid: Jessica. We wanted more. Nothing happened. God had other plans.

In the short questionnaire that Father Day gave us, it asks: What qualities do you see necessary in being a good dad? What was your dad like? What do you want as your legacy? Who was the best father you’ve experienced?

My dad was the best. It’s great when you know that and can say that – and I often told him that – later on in life – before he died.

Legacy? Love.

Our daughter Jessica is a Marine in Afghanistan right now. How would she answer those questions? I’ll ask her when I talk to her this evening – when a call is coming through.

I would hope that our daughter saw my presence more than presents. I went to lots of boring basketball games – rooting for her teams. I learned that with little girls, winning or losing a basketball game was not as important as going out for ice cream afterwards – and having a good time. I learned how beautiful and how wonderful that look to the stands at a basketball game was. She always knew where we were sitting even though I am not a loud sports dad. My wife, now that’s a different story. I know she’s going to kill me afterwards for that one. She’s giving me the glance right now. Good thing, we don’t have the custom of yelling back at speakers at Mass. Back to the kid’s glance. At games, I found myself looking for that glance. It made our being there worthwhile. She became much more subtle with the glance towards us when she was in High School and the Naval Academy – but she always looked for us in the stands. Nice.

She taught me pride – true pride – value – true value – is not in the car or the house or the amount on the pay check – but it’s in one’s kids.

Now that she’s a Marine in Afghanistan, obviously, I am rather nervous – but we’re putting everyone there in God’s hands.

My wife Marsha and I were watching an episode of Foyle’s War – entitled “Broken Souls” on TV the other night – PBS Masterpiece Theater. No commercials. Great. It takes place during World War II in Britain. The theme they kept focusing on during this episode was chance. This Polish Jewish psychiatrist just happened to be in Paris at a convention when Hitler invaded Poland in 1939. He never got back home. He and his wife had met by chance on a trolley. He was recalling all these moments to Detective Foyle. He says, "Life is series of chance meetings.”

Afterwards, Marsha and I were talking about that. We had met by total accident – in an airport. There was this storm – and planes and passengers from all over the country were stranded there in O’Hare Airport in Chicago. We talked about how our parents met and their parents met and then Marsha said, “Wouldn’t it have great if someone had written down the answer to that question as far back as they could go?” We held each other on that couch filled with the thought that a lot of tiny moments had to collide with each other to get us to this moment of life on this couch together, June 2009.

So fatherhood, life, love, is chance and mystery, surprise and wonder, and please God, lots of wonderful what’s next’s because of lots of has beens. Bring it on God. Bring it on.

THIRD STORY: JERRY BUNSON

My name is Jerry Bunson. Friends call me "Bunny". I used to hate that, but I’ve grown used to it.

I am a single father – three daughters.

I am a single grandfather – thirteen grandkids.

My wife, Carol, died at 30 – cancer – painful uterine cancer – leaving me all alone – but gifting us with three daughters.

I felt overwhelmed – and out of sorts – but we did it – and all three girls, Teresa, Sarah and Jennifer have done wonderful.

If you’re going to be a single dad, if you’re going to be a single grandfather – let me tell you, have daughters. They are caring – concerned – and they call every day.

The calls weren’t always every day – but now that I’m 73 – they are wanted and waited for – except at the 9th inning of a baseball game or the 4th quarter of a football game.

Two of my daughters, Teresa and Jennifer live within an hour of me. Sarah is in Texas.

But I get to see all my grandkids – many times over and then some more. That generation is growing up and the first great grand kid is on the way – and I hope to babysit for my great grandkids.

What did I learn?

The answer to that depends on the decade and the moment.

Now I love to see new parents – to see kids cling to parents’ legs when strangers wave to them at church or at a game. I love to see how women have won – having domesticated their husbands to do stuff I had to do by myself as a single dad. In fact, my daughters used me as a wedge to get their husbands to do things they didn’t know they were going to have to do.

I love refrigerator pictures as well as these new 1000 flowing pictures in a frame. I never grow tired of looking at them.

My daughters wanted me to get remarried and I did some dates, but nothing worked – and I think I did well in life – with Carol my love – always in the main frame of my life.

With my daughters, I learned women are different – big time different.

I often wondered what it would have been like if we had three boys instead of three girls – but these gals, my three queens, were the cards we were dealt – and I learned to play the card game of life with them – and I won.

I learned that the happy ones over 60 – are the ones who pinch themselves with gratitude each day – at who they are, who they have been blessed with – and look at what they have – accept what happened – and are not looking at what they don’t have and what didn’t happen.

That’s why I like Fathers Day – one more chance to say, “Thank you, God. Thank you. Thank you Carol for making me a dad three times over. See you one of these years – but not yet. There’s a lot more to see on how all this unfolds. In the meanwhile thanks for Teresa, Jennifer, and Sarah and all your grandkids. Amen.”

And thank you. Father Day, for this chance to let Rick, Nellie and myself to talk today on Fatherhood. Best of luck next week with your homily, Father Day. We'll be timing you. 3 minutes, right?

THE MOMENT

Does every marriage, every relationship,
have that moment, when we pop the
question – the real question,
“Do we have between us what will
keep us together till death do us part?”

Silence….

Does the other then say, “Years ago
we said, ‘Yes – of course!’ but now
the next question is: ‘What do we have?
What do we love to come home to?
We need to be specific.’”

Silence….

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2009

YOUR EYES


Your eyes, your face, seem so elsewhere.
You seem so out of place here with me.
You seem to be in another’s room
in another’s eye, far, far from here.

Where are you?

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2009

STUPIDITY

Stupid! Stupid!
I can be so stupid.
What a mess!
I always do this!
Stupid! Stupid!
Why do I do this every time?
What do I do now?

Does this ever happen to you?

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2009