November 4, 2018
Thought for today:
“When your fortune increases,
the columns of your house
appear to be crooked.”
Armenian Proverb
Sunday, November 4, 2018
Saturday, November 3, 2018
Friday, November 2, 2018
CEMETERY
STORIES
The title of my homily is, “Cemetery Stories.”
It’s All Soul’s Day.
It used to be a custom - that folks would visit
cemeteries on All Soul’s Day.
People didn’t have to travel that far - way back then -
way back when - so folks were buried in
local cemeteries - often church cemeteries.
We’ve all been there - to cemeteries.
We’ve all experienced the death of loved ones.
Drive down any road, we’ll see cemeteries.
Go into any mind. There are the different lobes - the hills
of our brain. There are the memories -
the tomb stones in our memories. And those tomb stones trigger stories of those
who have gone before us - buried.
Moments at grave stones …. Memories …. Memorials….
The question of this homily is: What are your cemetery
stories?
What stories are triggered by just going by a cemetery or
visiting a cemetery.
I hold that death cards are like cemetery stones. I hold that many a person has a small prayer
book with death cards in it. It’s like a portable cemetery and some people
visit their dead every day.
A change is coming with these flyers with pictures you
are handed or you pick up at funerals.
What are your cemetery stories?
Here are a few in my collection. I repeat them so as to
trigger your cemetery stories in your collection.
Share them with each other.
Listen to each other.
I think of the opening scene of Doctor Zhivago - where a
little boy is standing with a crowd - at a burial of a loved one - and that’s
how he begins his autobiography.
I think of going up on an elevator to the 4th
floor of an apartment house size mausoleum at St. John’s Cemetery in Middle
Village, Queens, N.Y. for the burial of
the first serious death in our family: my dad: June 26, 1970. He’s buried in a vault up near the
ceiling - and I remember hesitating with the burial prayer. It said we consign
the body of the deceased to the ground.
It felt funny saying, “into the wall.” Yes - someone put a deck of cards
in his casket. In time, mom was once more next to him - also with a deck of
cards and a rosary. She was killed in a hit and run accident on April 7, 1987.
I think of my nephew Michael - buried in Staten Island, N.Y. The first cemetery and
grave spot he was in, got flooded too often, so his mom and dad had the body
moved to Resurrection Cemetery. Now his dad is buried there too - along with
other family members and friends.
I think of our cemetery at our old major seminary: Mount
St. Alphonsus Cemetery, Esopus, New York - where many Redemptorist Brothers and
Priests are buried. I lived there 14 years of my life. When I had the job of
Novice Master, each November we would go out to that cemetery and we would say prayers for Redemptorists buried
there. In old manuscripts we
were able to find poems from of the deceased and we would read one of their
poems at their grave that day.
I remember giving a priest retreat for the priests of New
Orleans and one morning I was walking outside around 7:30 going through my talk
for 9 AM. A car came into the property from off the road. I spotted the driver
as I walked. He was wearing black pants and a white shirt. I figured he was one
of the priests making the retreat and going out for a paper. I waved to the
guy, but didn’t get any response. As I was walking towards the cemetery at the
place - an old school, I spotted the person’s car - parked under a trellis at
the entrance to the cemetery. As I walked towards this man I saw him standing
under the statue of Mary. As I got closer he put a gun to his mouth and killed
himself. I ran towards him. I blessed
him - since I didn’t have the sacred oils for a final anointing. I ran into the
lobby of the building where the retreat was going on. I yelled to some priests standing
there, “Does anyone have the sacred oils? A guy just killed himself in the
cemetery.” A guy went running out to his
car and then headed for the cemetery and the statue of Mary to anoint the man
who had just shot himself. I said I’m calling 911. I told someone on the other end of that phone
that a man just shot himself. I told the attendant where I was. When I said,
“Suicide” the person on the other side said, “How do I know it was suicide?” I said,
“I was just there and I saw it.” The person repeated, “But how do I know?” I said, “Oh,
okay!” The attendant was good. He
kept me on the phone till he said, “Okay we have a police car there now.” I
found out later the man who killed himself wasn’t a priest. He was a former
student there - but I never found out really, who he was, and what happened. Someone said he was a 48
year old lawyer and father of 2.
I once went to my brother’s grave - Gate of Heaven
Cemetery - in Silver Spring, Maryland with his best friend, Marty. It was a
while since my brother’s funeral. We
stood there and prayed. After saying the Mourners’ Kaddish , Marty who is
Jewish said, “Sorry I don’t believe in life after death.” Ugh. That hurt. Well, I guess we have to die
to find out. That moment strengthened my belief in life after death. I just
went to Marty’s funeral - in a nearby Jewish cemetery - where he was buried
with his wife - who died some two years ago or so.
I think of Luther A. Palmer Memorial Cemetery - on a traffic island on West Street
in Annapolis, Maryland - where it meets Riva Road. We did a burial there once -
of a Palmer. It’s in a tough spot to park a hearse - take out the casket - put
it on the grass and then move the hearse from the road. It has 77 plots.
Cemeteries are sometimes in interesting places. This was quite unique - on a
busy Street.
I think of a burial at St. Mary’s Cemetery here in
Annapolis. The deceased had given his body for research. Then when his wife got
the remains, which were now cremains. I stood there with his wife and two
little sons - and we said the prayers. Before the burial of the box that
contained the box of his cremains - his wife put a piece of paper in the
plastic “casket”. Being nosey, I asked her what was on the paper. “It was a
sonogram that I received from the doctor this morning.” She was expecting. I’ve
had a lot of burials at our cemetery there - but that one is triggered every
time I go by it.
This has gotten too, too long.
So my last cemetery story is from a small cemetery in Ballynahown, Ireland - where lots of our relatives are buried. My brother-in-law and two sisters were there. Our Aunt Nora walked us to the cemetery. It had an odd swinging gate - so cows couldn’t get in there. Well, evidently, there was a breach in the walls, because my sister Peggy, Sister St. Monica Costello, IHM, stepped in you know what.
Life.
Death.
What are your cemetery stories?
Wednesday, October 31, 2018
November 1, 2018
NOVEMBER
Each month has its unique moments:
April Fools’ Day;
Valentine’s Day;
Christmas and the Fourth of July.
But November has the most!
November: get out and vote.
November 1 - All Saints’ Day;
November 2 - All Souls Day;
Thanksgiving - but most of all,
my birthday. Thanks mom and dad!
© Andy Costello, Reflections
2018
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