A Final

In the Hells Kitchen tradition (or was it family) even as a child it was mandatory I attend all family funerals as well as three day wakes (often in the home) as well.

Without boring you with the details, it took a toll on a highly susceptible child that has never totally faded. The red folder holding my final wishes includes my hope that I pass quietly into the night sans fanfare of funeral or memorial. However, since I will have already boarded the ferry, I need not worrry about such earthbound trivia.

Yet today at 8 am when I opened my ipad and read Pope Francis had already departed from this vale of tears. I desperately wished I could fly to Rome and attend his funeral.

It surprised me when I viewed the aged Pontiff this weekend on TV in what had to be the uncomfortable popemobile how his physical appearance had changed,

I remembered how desperately ill he had been recently, and I wished the gentle Pontiff was home in bed rather than being surrounded by a cluster of humanity,

And of course, I was wrong. It was what he chose for his final hours on earth.

Francis was a surprising choice to be the leader of our Church. He was never embraced with the mystique of former Pontiffs.

His message was simplicity and precise. Serve God and love your neighbor.

And he preached that until his final hours of life.

I not only heard him, but more importantly, will always remember his final message on Easter Sunday 2025 even if I don’t attend his funeral.