Dedicated to my Faithful Mother
You used to provide
For all my needs,
Planting in my soul
God’s holy seeds.
Now older, you need
God’s help from above,
Like you, I now sacrifice
And surrender in love.
A DAY OF DIVINE MERCY /
“Beauty leads to Goodness; Goodness leads to Truth”
Today, September 19, 2022,
On the feast of San Gennaro,
Two beautiful signs of God’s love
Took place in two different continents:
In the city of Napoli, the blood of
The city’s patron saint once again
Mysteriously and miraculously liquefied,
To the delight of many of the faithful;
And at St. Bernadette Catholic Church
In Scottsdale, Arizona, we celebrated
My mother’s funeral mass — herself being,
We might say, “A daughter of San Gennaro,”
Since she studied in Napoli many years ago:
Truly, this was a day of Divine Mercy.
It was a calm and lovely morning
When my daughter and I
Arrived at St. Bernadette’s,
I had no idea what to expect,
One part of me feared that I would
Disrupt Mom’s funeral mass
With my crying and sobbing,
But another part of me wondered
Whether I might go the whole mass
Without shedding a tear,
I hoped that I had conquered
My fickle and unpredictable emotions,
But, deep down, I knew that I had to
Expect the unexpected.
We passed through the main entrance
Of this tremendously inspiring church --
I call it a “Baby Basilica” because,
In my mind, in many ways it resembles
The historic churches of Rome –
And I was delighted to be greeted
By several members of the funeral team
At the parish, who greeted us warmly,
And pleasantly arranged about 12 photographs
Of my mom, which depicted her in some of the
Happy moments of her past: her wedding day,
A cruise she and I took along the Pacific Coast,
And a treasured family vacation she took
With me and my precious daughter.
Then, we entered the nave of this magnificent church,
And we approached the stately communion rail
Where there were ten “waterfalls” of magnificent roses
In a trinity of colors: pure playa-cream roses,
Brilliant red roses, and yellow roses that
Appeared brighter than the sunshine;
We didn’t know quite how they would look,
Because when we chose them we pretty much
Had to use our imagination, and then
Take a leap of faith, hoping that the colors
Would effectively complement each other.
My mom was very artistic in nature,
So we knew that we wanted
Vivid beautiful colors to reflect the beauty
And joy of God’s wonderful creation;
Therefore, we chose white and red as a symbol
Of Jesus’ dazzling divine mercy,
But we also decided to mix in yellow
Since that is the color of the roses on the feet
Of Our Lady of Lourdes, when she appeared
To St. Bernadette Soubirous back in 1858;
By the grace of God, the colors blended
Together splendidly, and they were
Absolutely breathtaking.
It was about a half-hour before the start time
Of the mass, and one of our deacons gently
And humbly led us through prayer, and so
Together we began praying the
Glorious mysteries of the Holy Rosary,
It was so pleasant and serene to pray
As a spiritual family, in one accord;
My former pastor was like St. Joseph
Sitting right behind me, and his strong confident
Voice emboldened me to “fight the good fight”
On what would be a very emotional day —
He probably had no idea what a powerful
Impact he made upon me during those
Very sweet moments of prayer.
Then we followed the Rosary with the
Simple yet majestic Divine Mercy Chaplet:
Again, I felt strengthened by these prayers,
And I believed I was ready for the mass —
In fact, my mindset was that of
Psalm 57: “My heart is ready, O God,
My heart is ready!”
But when the casket was rolled back
Towards the back of the church,
Something unexpected stirred
Deep down in my heart,
And as my daughter and I
Followed the casket,
I looked at it and felt a
Profound sadness, for I knew
That my dear mother
Was no longer there.
Suddenly, a powerful wave of
Sadness pervaded my heart,
And I had to struggle
Like a knight in battle,
To hold back the tears,
It took all the strength
I could muster to prevent myself
From crying aloud,
But in spite of my best efforts,
I partially exhaled
A few sorrowful sobs.
In the back of the church,
I had the chance to regain
My composure, but the moment
The celebrant finished the opening prayers
And we reentered the nave of the church,
The cantor sang “The Prayer of Saint Francis” --
One of my mom’s favorite hymns,
And, again, powerful emotions
Threatened to overwhelm me.
But then it was as if I heard a voice
Deep within my soul that seemed to say,
“Look up! Don’t focus on where
Your mother used to be – look up!”
And so I raised my head and looked up,
And there I beheld the breathtaking sacred art
On the inside of the cupola, where I saw Our Lady
In the glory of Heaven, surrounded
By many of our greatest saints,
And looking at them, my heart
Was greatly encouraged and
Rejoiced in the Truth, and this scene
Strengthened me in my emotional battle.
When we took our place in the front pew,
My heart somehow felt stronger --
In fact, my heart felt like it had become
Ten times stronger,
Like the Grinch’s heart
During his epiphany moment
On Christmas morning.
It seemed as if I only blinked twice,
And already it was time for the
First reading, and I was the lector
Who was going to proclaim it;
It was a reading from chapter two of
The Book of Sirach, one of my favorite
Passages in the Old Testament,
Which focuses on the Lord’s
Indescribable compassion and mercy;
As I ascended the steps of the ambo,
The Holy Spirit simply took over,
I really don’t know how else
To describe it; in His divine mercy,
The good God gave me what
I so desperately needed:
The opportunity to share
Something beautiful with others,
Just as St. Francis of Assisi said
Towards the end of the opening hymn,
“It is in giving that we receive.”
I returned to my seat empowered,
And after experiencing God’s grace,
The cantor, with her dulcet voice,
Sang Psalm 103, another of my favorites,
For it too speaks in a wondrous way
Of Jesus’ compassion and mercy;
I sang, and I sang loudly,
Glorifying God in my heart
For His goodness and mercy,
In celebrating this happy occasion.
And then it was time for me to go up
To the ambo once more to proclaim
The second reading, which is yet another
One of my favorites: Revelation 21,
In which Our Lord speaks of making us
A “new creation” in His divine love;
In my heart I was inspired by St. John
Who wrote this memorable text,
But, at the same time, I felt
Our Lady and Our Lord were
Very close to me in spirit,
I was very happy indeed,
And as I proclaimed the Word,
I felt the Holy Spirit’s joy —
It was like honey in my mouth.
Then came the Gospel text,
My mom’s absolute favorite:
John 14 -- which reminds us of the
Reality that Jesus wishes to prepare
A magnificent place for us in Heaven;
The deacon spoke with great love,
As if he were Jesus himself,
Filled with the fruit of the Spirit:
He proclamed the Word with
Love and joy and peace,
Patience, kindness, generosity,
Faithfulness, gentleness, self-control;
And my heart rejoiced.
The homily was something I had been
Really looking forward to,
And I was very pleased to hear
Such a faithful priest, such a wise priest,
Recognize so much goodness in my mom,
He spoke as if he had known her
All of his life, and his words of wisdom
Sank very deeply into my soul;
Listening to our pastor, I am reminded
Of the words of Pope St. John XXIII
Who once made the following comment
About St. John Vianney, who is known as
The patron saint of parish priests -- he said,
“[The priest] is no longer supposed to live
For himself… He must be aflame with
Charity toward everyone. Not even his
Thoughts, his will, his feelings belong to him,
For they are rather those of Jesus Christ,
Who is his life”; this is what I felt from
Our pastor, for as he spoke of my mom,
He did so with “a heart aflame with charity.”
Then as we transitioned from
The Liturgy of the Word to the
Liturgy of the Eucharist, the cantor,
With her stunningly beautiful voice,
Sang an unforgettable version
Of the Ave Maria of Franz Schubert,
One of the most sublime hymns
In the history of classical music,
Accompanied by the thunderous power
And elegance of the largest pipe organ
In the entire state of Arizona,
And played masterfully by
Our very talented organist;
I must say, that it was
Nothing short of spectacular.
The time for Holy Communion
Was soon upon us -- I was so engulfed
In the love and joy of the moment
That it felt like Jesus himself
Personally gave me the special gift of
His Most precious body and blood –
This reminds me of a holy card from
My daughter’s First Holy Communion,
Showing Jesus, holding a chalice,
Giving Holy Communion to a young girl
Dressed in white who is kneeling
Before Him at the communion rail.
For the recessional hymn,
We sang “How Great Thou Art,”
And as my daughter and I followed
The casket, I fixed my eyes on the
Exquisite words of the “Litany of Loreto”
That encircle the inside of the church
And are especially prominent in the back,
Directly under the grand shining silver pipes
Of the organ -- once again I felt encouragement,
And I was filled with the strength that
I so needed at that particular moment.
Then we stepped outside into the
Golden sunshine, and the pallbearers
Respectfully placed the casket into
A Cadillac hearse, white and elegant —
But then our guests exited the church,
One by one, and I was so profoundly
Moved by the sincere and genuine
Love of so many good people,
They made us feel more valuable
Than a sea of sparkling diamonds,
And words cannot possibly express
The love that I felt deep down inside,
For each and every person I met.
It’s such a wonderful thing that
Every little act of love,
Every little smile,
Every little kind word,
Can spark a chain reaction of
The the most profound
And the most sincere love:
For it is a truth about life that
Love begets more love.
Tears, joy, pain, laughter:
We experienced them all, and yet
The good God is never outdone
In generosity, for I can honestly
Say that this was one of the
Happiest days of my life;
I feel like we actually lived the
“Prayer of Saint Francis” because
We experienced peace,
We experienced love,
We experienced faith,
We experienced hope,
We experienced light,
We experienced joy,
We experienced consolation,
We experienced understanding,
We experienced still more love,
We experienced pardon, and
We experienced eternal life.
Gloria in excelsis Deo!
THANKSGIVING /
When we’re thanks-living,
We choose for living,
We choose for giving,
Lovingly for-giving.
Thanksgiving,
What a wonderful
Gift from God,
It seems to me like
An inexhaustible
Spiritual ocean of the
Dazzling, magnificent
Divine Mercy.
When we’re living,
In thanksgiving to God,
We’re living for giving,
Lovingly for-giving.
WHAT A WONDERFUL LIFE! /
This is the life of
Maria Fedele Castorino,
My dearest mother,
Who has just journeyed
From time to eternity.
She was born
In the small town of Ripacandida,
In the province of Potenza,
In the region of Basilicata,
In the beautiful country of Italia.
This treasured little babe
Was the youngest of her family,
And she had three older siblings;
Nina, seventeen years her elder,
Was like a second mother to her,
Sweet and gentle, and Rosinella
Was beautiful and good and true.
Her mother, when she was younger,
Lived with the nuns in the town,
And they taught her how to cook
(and cook very, very well),
But, more importantly, they
Taught her how to revere God;
She said those nuns lived like saints.
Her father was the provider,
And he had lots of land and a farm,
He grew the sweetest of fruits
And the most flavorful of vegetables,
He made a unique and delicious wine
That is unlike any I have ever tasted.
So, in short, my mother grew up
In a truly God-fearing home,
A God-centered home,
And they prayed the Holy Rosary together
Every day, even their blind neighbor
Would come over and she would join them.
They went to church at San Donato,
The patron saint of the town,
It is a historic little church built
In the 1400s, and my mother
Received her first sacraments there.
Each year in early August,
They would celebrate the
Festa di San Donato
With their fellow townspeople,
And it was a time of joy for them;
She and her father would stand
Right under the bandstand
To hear classical music,
Which my mom grew to love.
And then little Maria
Went off to school,
To a neighboring town in Melfi
About a 30-minute drive;
During recess she used to like
Playing with her friends
On the old bridge of a
Historic medieval castle,
The Castle of Melfi.
She was the lucky one in her family,
For she was given the opportunity
For an education, and so,
Her studies brought her to
The bustling city of Napoli,
The city of San Gennaro,
The saint whose blood miraculously
And mysteriously liquefies.
Along with other boarders,
She lived with the nuns,
And at school she came to know
Her dear friend José
(it’s a pretty French name,
and it’s pronounced yo-SAY),
The most beautiful girl in her class;
They would walk the streets of
Napoli together, listening to the
Cheerful music in this happy city.
But one of mom’s highlights there
Was frequently taking trips,
Pilgrimages really, to the
City of Pompei, where she
Visited what is arguably
The most famous Marian shrine
In all of Italy: The Sanctuary of
The Blessed Virgin of the Rosary,
Built by Blessed Bartolo Longo.
She took me there once,
And she showed me her little spot,
Where she would always kneel,
By the side of the altar,
To offer her prayers to God;
And what a beautiful basilica it is;
In fact, it’s like a smaller version
Of the magnificent St. Peter’s Basilica
In Roma, with breathtaking marble columns,
And the most inspiring sacred art.
But World War II interrupted her life,
And everything was put on hold;
Sometimes she would look in the distance,
And see a multitude of parachutes falling
From the sky, she would hear the bombing
Of military targets, such as Foggia, a city
That was a mere hour and a half away,
And very close to where the great
San Padre Pio had his ministry
In San Giovanni Rotondo;
Word of this good saint spread
All the way to Ripacandida,
And my mom remembered hearing
Amazing stories about him.
One day, however, stood out
Among all the others: the day
When the Nazis came to town;
The fear of the townspeople was real,
And everyone boarded up their houses,
Making it look like a deserted ghost town;
But one foolish man with a pistol
In the upper part of town
(like many Italian towns, Ripacandida
Was built on the brow of a hill)
Decided to take on the enemy,
And he fired at the Nazi intruders;
They conducted a search but
They never found him, so when
The Nazis arrived in Melfi,
They started cannonading Ripacandida,
By the grace of God, I don’t think
That anyone was hurt that day,
But it was a frightening experience
For them all, and a day they
Would certainly never forget.
In God’s time, mom finished
Her college studies, in accounting,
And then from there, she set her sights
On the United States of America;
Her beloved Zio Antonio
(or Uncle Anthony in English)
Lived in Brooklyn, New York,
And he was hoping that my mom
Could join him in America;
My mom loved him like a second father,
For he was a courageous, saintly man,
And so she too hoped to be given
Permission to come to the States.
But her interview did not go well,
And her request was denied;
My mother cried and cried
Because she so wanted to live
With her Uncle Anthony.
And then her holy sister Rosinella
Had a dream one night, a dream
Of Our Most Blessed Mother,
Who spoke to her and said,
“Maria Fedele partirà!” –
Translated into English this means,
“Maria Fedele will depart!”
And, of course, the good God
Is never outdone in generosity,
My mom was granted a second interview,
And her request was accepted.
She spent one glorious year
With her beloved Uncle Anthony
And his wonderful wife Aunt Fannie,
It was like Heaven on earth for her;
She had so much love and so much
Respect for the two of them,
Living in their little apartment.
But her dream was shattered one night
When she lost her Uncle Anthony,
Who died like a saint, in his sleep –
Then later on that same week
She received news that her own
Father had also passed away;
She felt lost, but good Aunt Fannie
Helped her through this difficult period,
And their love for each other – and for God –
Always remained very, very strong;
In time, the two of them became
Third-Order Franciscans.
But as the Venerable Fulton J. Sheen once said,
“When Our Blessed Lord came to this earth,
He had the divine sense of humor” –
And Mom experienced this in her life:
Aunt Fannie knew an Italian family
That had moved to Southern California,
So they took a trip there, and Mom met Dad,
And eventually the two of them got married.
In time, I came along, and this brought
Great joy both to my mom and dad,
I still remember being a young lad in
The house (mansion actually) of my grandpa
In the hills of Glendale, California,
And I remember it being a happy time,
Probably filled with lots of hope for the future.
But, unfortunately, my dad didn’t take care
Of himself – and, he was a chain smoker;
In short, he died very young,
And my mom was a widow
Just a month before I graduated
From Chaminade College Prep.
But my mom was always and ever
Faithful to him; she never once had a thought
Of remarrying after Dad’s death,
Because for her marriage was a
Once-in-a-lifetime thing,
And so, instead, she devoted herself
To raising me in the best way she knew how;
After my father’s death, my mom and I
Grew ever closer, and we were always
There for each other, in the best of times,
And also in the worst of times –
And we experienced them both.
Then, in the 1980s and 1990s,
God blessed us with the opportunity
To do some travelling to various places,
But the most magnificent ones for her were
Those with the most breathtaking scenery:
Italy, Switzerland, and the Canadian Rockies.
But one travel highlight that stands out
Above the others was our trip to Roma
In September 2000 of the Jubilee Year,
We had the trip – and pilgrimage – of our lives;
We arrived in Roma in early September,
And on our first day we went to a
Prayer service in St. Peter’s Basilica,
With Pope St. John Paul II – we were
Both thrilled to be in the presence
Of this very, very holy man
(Who actually looked a little
Like her father).
We went to two papal audiences,
As well as two papal masses,
One of which fell on my birthday,
We had a memorable day driving out
To San Giovanni Rotondo,
To honor good San Padre Pio,
We ate the most delicious of
Italian food, and were inspired by
The beauty of Roma, and also the
Beauty of La Bella Italia.
A couple of years later,
When my daughter Maria Laura was born
(Named after my mom and also Our Lady),
A new hope sprung in my mom’s heart –
And a new mission took hold in her heart –
From the moment that she first saw Maria,
She was absolutely and utterly in love;
Through her love, through her example,
And through her prayers, my mom
Was committed to the growth and
Maturity of Maria Laura: physically,
Intellectually, emotionally, aesthetically,
And, most especially, spiritually.
My mom was also a lover of art,
She loved to do oil paintings,
And was really quite good at it,
And, perhaps without realizing it,
She was devoted to the good,
The true, and the beautiful;
She loved beautiful things,
And she transformed our new home
In Scottsdale into what we might call
“A Little Church,” filled with sacred art.
As an Italian mother, food was also
Important to her, and she was truly
A master of the culinary arts:
Zucchine Agrodolce, Antipasto,
Biscotti, Cannoli, Cassata Siciliana,
Chocolate-Covered Strawberries
(Injected with Liqueur), Cime di Rape,
Focaccia, French Toast, Gnocchi,
Lasagne, Homemade Pasta,
Minestrone di Verdure, Pancakes,
Pepperoni, Pizza Margherita,
Pizza Imbottita, Pizza di Ricotta,
Polpettone, Ravioli, Manicotti,
Sospiri, and on and on and on.
In these early years of Maria Laura’s life,
Mom and I also grew in our
Devotion to the Divine Mercy,
And it became a centerpiece in
Our prayer lives, especially in
Times of difficulty and trial;
We also prayed the very beautiful
Total Consecration to Jesus through Mary
(According to St. Louis de Montfort),
And Mom would reconsecrate her life
To Jesus through Our Lady on a daily basis.
When Maria Laura was old enough,
We took some memorable vacations
To California as well, from San Diego
To Santa Barbara, from Solvang to
San Luis Obispo and the Apple Farm Inn;
We took a special delight in visiting
The old California missions that were
Established by San Padre Junipero Serra;
Yet all the while, she never seemed to
Think of herself – rather, she looked to
The needs of Maria Laura, always thinking first
Of her granddaughter’s needs, before her own needs,
Just as she had done when I was a little boy.
As Maria Laura grew, my mom continued to
Pray and pray and pray and pray –
Mom rejoiced when Maria Laura
Graduated from Xavier College Prep,
She rejoiced again when Maria Laura –
Not so little anymore – went off to college at
Loyola Marymount University;
I’m sure Mom’s faithful praying of the
Most Holy Rosary had a very positive impact
On Maria Laura’s life, where she has been very
Blessed indeed in being part of a strong
Campus ministry program at Loyola,
Living among faith-filled friends
In the spirit of St. Ignatius of Loyola,
Praying his Spiritual Exercises.
Time passed, and Eternity drew nearer.
Although the Coronavirus pandemic
Struck fear into us all, I think it gave us
The opportunity to face our worst fears,
And by the grace of God, to conquer them.
During the pandemic, Mom’s physical
Condition gradually began to deteriorate –
Even though she had lived her
“Threescore years and ten” – plus another
25 years on top of that – mostly healthy ones;
But in a special way this year, 2022,
The Lord seemed to be preparing Mom
For her journey to her Heavenly home.
Like never before, she surrendered
Her life to Our Lord Jesus;
She would get up in the morning,
And sit in front of the window,
Soaking in the beauty of God’s creation,
She developed a new appreciation
For God’s simple gifts at this time,
And she appreciated more than ever
The love and sacrifices that her family
Willingly made on her behalf.
Around the Fourth of July,
Mom’s physical decline became
More swift and noticeable;
But again, the good God is so good,
I was blessed with the opportunity
To be my mom’s caregiver,
Dedicating myself to her
Like I had never done before.
The Lord was patient with me,
I’m sure I wasn’t the best caregiver,
But I tried my best to lovingly care for her
While juggling the many needs of our family;
Both Maria Laura and I were able to share our love
With Mom, telling her how much we loved her,
And she told us how much she loved us, too.
Time passed and Eternity was at the gate.
August 30, 2022. It was a holy day. It was a holy time.
Then, after Maria Laura went back to the university,
Our pastor came to give Mom the Last Rites,
I opened the door, and it was hard for me to
Hold back the tears – I was in pain, in very deep
Pain and sorrow, for I knew that Mom was
Close to the time of her flight to Heaven;
Our pastor was so like Jesus, he was so calm,
So encouraging, so strong in the face of adversity –
So like Jesus and Jesus’ foster father St. Joseph –
He was such an inspiration for me, and yet
When he began the Last Rites, at the side of
Mom’s bed, and prayed the beautiful
Litany of the Saints, I began to weep,
To cry, and then to sob uncontrollably –
I knew that Mom was going to her
Eternal reward, and yet, because
I loved her so much and because
I already missed her so much,
I sobbed and sobbed and sobbed,
My voice cracking badly as I recited
The Litany of the Saints with our pastor.
And then – then! – he recited the
Prayer of all prayers: The Apostolic Blessing,
And I knew what that meant, a complete
Remission of all the damage done by her sins,
In other words: she had a fast pass to Heaven,
She had already been through her Purgatory
In her many sufferings endured here on earth;
I was thrilled, but I was sincerely suffering,
Carrying the heavy and painful Cross of Love.
And then — then! — our pastor offered her the
Gift of all gifts: the Most Holy Eucharist,
When he broke off a small piece of the host,
And gave her Holy Communion,
Mom’s light blue eyes opened wide
With wonder — clearly, she recognized the
True presence of Jesus: body, blood, soul, and divinity —
And she received Holy Viaticum to prepare for
Her flight into the majestic splendor of Heaven.
Time passed, and Eternity was knocking at the door.
August 31, 2022. It was the perfect day. It was the perfect time.
Americare Hospice was now assisting me,
They were amazing in caring for Mom,
They also gave me the support that
I so desperately needed at this critical time;
Mom didn’t have much time left,
And now we were all alone,
It was just she and I,
The nurse said it was probably
A matter of hours, or days, at the most;
Mom was resting as peacefully
As a saint in the heavenly realm,
And it was around the Hour of Mercy,
I realized that I had never told Mom
About the successful start to
The new school year for Maria Laura,
And so I went to the side of her bed,
It was a hospital bed that the hospice
Had brought over just that morning,
And it reminded me of a king-size bed
From an elegant five-star hotel,
So I went to the side of the bed,
Several different times, looking into
My mom’s eyes, and starting to tell
Her the story, but every time I began,
I choked up, and I began to sob and cry
All over again – I felt so bad, because
I wanted Mom to know that everything
Was going to be okay, that Maria Laura
And I were protected in God’s hands.
I didn’t know what to do, so I sat
In the La-z-boy chair near my mom’s bed,
In the family room, near the fireplace,
With the beautiful replica of Michelangelo’s
Pietà above the mantle, and the picture of
The Divine Mercy just off to the side;
So I started again, not thinking,
Looking directly in the face of Jesus,
The Divine Mercy, as I spoke to Mom,
And, to my surprise, I found that looking
At Him inspired me with the strength
I needed to fulfill my task.
So I began again, gazing into the face of
The Divine Mercy, and I told her all about
Maria Laura’s successes in school,
And then I shared how much the
Two of us loved her, and I thanked
Her for her love, and for her many sacrifices,
For her prayers on our behalf;
Quite a long time passed, and I
Bathed in the warmth of God’s
Indescribable peace as I reminisced with her
About our wonderful trips together,
Our wonderful lives together;
It’s true that Jesus spent 90% of his life
Under the same roof as his mom and dad,
The same is true for me, except that
In my case it’s 100% of my life –
God works in mysterious ways,
And He truly is
The God of Surprises.
So, in short, Mom and I were blessed
With a magnificent evening together;
To set a peaceful tone in preparation
For her approaching flight to Heaven,
I played her favorite classical music DVD,
With cheerful Viennese waltzes of Strauss,
With lovely ballet selections and classic art,
But I put the volume low, so that it played
Ever so softly and ever so gently.
At 10:15 p.m., it was time for her medicine,
And I noticed that her breathing had
Noticeably slowed, yet in spite of this,
She appeared to be very much at peace.
At 10:45 p.m., I checked on her one last time,
Before I went off to bed at her side;
The nurse had prepared me by telling me that
It was very possible that Mom would pass away
During the night, and when I checked Mom,
I saw that her breathing had stopped,
And yet she appeared more peaceful than ever;
Off and on throughout the day, I had
Kissed her forehead, and kissed her cheek,
With the sweetness of a faithful son;
Although she was now in Heaven,
When I kissed her forehead that last time,
She was still warm.
Fittingly enough, as I am preparing
The arrangements for Mom’s funeral mass,
Everything is coming full circle;
She lived and studied in Napoli,
The City of San Gennaro,
And now, on September 19, 2022,
On the Feast of San Gennaro,
We will celebrate Mom’s life,
And her supreme joy now in Heaven!
Thank you, Jesus, for the tenderness
Of Your divine mercy towards Mom,
And, through her, the divine mercy
That you have shown to my family,
She passed away as she had hoped
And dreamed that she would pass away:
Gently and sweetly, like a saint;
Thank you, Jesus, for showing me
The fruit of the Spirit in the
Holy life of my wonderful mother.
What a wonderful life!
Dearest Jesus, King of Divine Mercy,
I pray for myself, for my family,
For my faith community, for the world;
Holy God, Holy Mighty One, Holy Immortal One,
Have mercy on us, and on the whole world;
Thank you, Jesus, for the gift of your love,
Thank you, Jesus, for the gift of your joy,
Thank you, Jesus, for the gift of your peace,
Thank you, Jesus, for the gift of your patience,
Thank you, Jesus, for the gift of your kindness,
Thank you, Jesus, for the gift of your generosity,
Thank you, Jesus, for the gift of your faithfulness,
Thank you, Jesus, for the gift of your gentleness,
Thank you, Jesus, for the gift of your self-control,
Thank you, Jesus, for the gift of your divine wisdom,
Thank you, Jesus, for the gift of your divine mercy.
Jesus, I trust in You!
OUR LADY OF DIVINE MERCY /
Trembling, I hid in your mantle, protected
From the dark night of unknowing;
You guided me up the steep, perilous path,
Towards the sparkling, starry heavens.
The demonic winds gusted, and with
Frightful ferocity thunder shook the air;
Serpentine lightning darted in the sky, and
Lava streams slithered down the slopes.
But then the Sun of God dazzlingly dawned,
And He put an end to the dark night;
Beams of bright light, both red and white,
Streamed soothingly into my soul.
Atop the summit, you took my hand,
And together we flew into the Light;
We laughed like merry little children,
Soaking in the sunshine of pure Mercy.
TO SANTA MARGHERITA DI CORTONA /
You had a bewitching beauty,
And an intoxicating charm,
Their seductive magical spell
Gave you great power,
Power over the hearts of men,
Who fell head over heels in
Lust with you.
You loved it,
You loved the attention,
You loved the sense of control,
But, one day, as you walked
In the woods, your life was
Changed forever through
God’s mystical divine mercy.
You stumbled across the corpse
Of your dear beloved Arsenio,
And what fears then whirled
Through your agitated mind!
You reflected on the horrors of hell,
The suffering of unspeakable torments,
The wailing, lamentation, and despair!
Pricked by the pitchforks of
Painful recollection and also
Fear of the Living Death,
You fell to your knees and,
Like the penitent Magdalene,
You allowed the good God
To make you a new creation.
You became a Franciscan tertiary,
Serving the needs of the poor
In holy purity and simplicity,
Loving your holy Lord oh so
Deeply and passionately,
Wanting others to know the
Sweetness of intimacy with Him.
TO ST. IGNATIUS OF LOYOLA /
It took a cannonball
For God to get your attention,
To teach you what it is
To be a true knight --
A knight of Christ;
And so He guided you
In founding the Jesuit order,
And as the Light shone through
The colorful prism of your mind,
You discovered God’s goodness,
God’s truth, God’s beauty;
May your Spiritual Exercises
Draw us more deeply into
The Sacred Heart of Jesus,
To be intellectually illumined,
To be socially sympathetic,
To be aesthetically alive,
To be spiritually strong.
TO SAN JUAN DIEGO /
Humility was your middle name,
So at Tepeyac to you she came;
You really didn’t know what to say,
Your only thought was to stop and pray;
You became Our Lady’s holy slave,
Always trustworthy, and very brave;
You saw sweet roses out of season,
The Virgin gave them for a reason;
Then you brought them to the bishop’s place,
The people filled with God’s dazzling grace;
As at your tilma everyone gazed,
The most wondrous sign left all amazed.
TO ST. THOMAS MORE /
You were the Lord High Chancellor
Under the infamous Henry the Eight,
At first you tasted the king’s friendship,
But later on the sovereign’s hate;
You were a right honorable gentleman,
With an intellectually sharp mind,
With courage you stood against the crown,
For, sadly, it was spiritually blind;
So you were put in the Tower of London,
A place that vile criminals dreaded,
You faithfully served the good God first,
Thus, the monarch had you beheaded;
In this world, you bravely battled for truth,
The people, you’d never mislead ‘em,
Now from Heaven you pray for us all,
As the patron of religious freedom.
TO ST. CATHERINE OF SIENA /
Inspired by the writing of this great saint
You stand atop a holy bridge,
A bridge that has several levels,
Like the historic Ponte Vecchio,
And the waves of the worldly waters
Are swarming with sea demons who
Obsessively seek souls to rip open
With their blade-like bloody teeth,
And their cold cadaverous claws,
To torture them in The Endless Death;
But some souls, through God’s grace,
Cling to the edge of the first level
Of the bridge, dripping wet and
Shivering, terrified of going to hell,
So they clutch tightly to the bridge,
Fearing that they will fall back into
The turbulent black river of doom;
Other souls, through God’s strength,
Climb up higher to the second level
Where they are safe from the evil
Threat below, in a place of serene
Consolation, where happiness can
Finally reign in their grateful hearts;
However, there are still others who
Through your passionate prayers
And through total surrender
To Jesus’ most Holy Cross,
Climb to the top of the bridge,
And there -- yes, there! -- they are
Pierced by the overwhelming beauty
Of the magnificent heavenly realm,
Where Jesus’ peace surrounds them,
Where Jesus’ joy enthralls them,
Where Jesus’ love embraces them.
TO SANT' ANGELA DI FOLIGNO /
Forty years in pursuit of
Wealth and worldly respect,
Before you realized
It was all totally worthless;
But you made up for lost time
As the Wonder Counselor
Graciously removed the
Dead weight out of your life
So that you would be free,
Free to follow Him forever;
You generously gave away
Almost all you owned,
And Jesus sweetly filled you
With the fruit of the Spirit;
Like Augustine, too late
Did you know Him, but
Thanks to The Divine Mercy,
It’s never, ever too late
To finally find The Beautiful,
To finally find The Good,
To finally find The True:
God is love.
TO SANT' ANTONIO DI PADOVA /
They knew you as a Franciscan friar,
And your wise words lit in them a fire;
You preached to the fish when men wouldn’t hear,
They leaped from the water, filled with good cheer;
Then some envious men poisoned your cup,
They stared, aghast, when you drank it all up;
Before you heretics always cower,
Since through you God shows His mighty power;
When we really feel we have lost our mind,
Your passionate prayers help us Jesus find.
TO ST. BONAVENTURE /
You were the genius blessed by God
Who spoke of the holy marriage of
Faith and reason, and, indeed,
What a fruitful couple they make.
You were the teacher blessed by God
Who showed that everything we do,
No matter how great or how small,
Should point us towards Heaven.
You were the diplomat blessed by God
Who brought Light to the Franciscan order,
And as the sagacious Seraphic Doctor,
You were an instrument of God’s peace.
OUR LADY OF DIVINE MERCY /
Trembling, I hid in your mantle, protected
From the dark night of unknowing;
You guided me up the steep, perilous path,
Towards the sparkling, starry heavens.
The demonic winds gusted, and with
Frightful ferocity thunder shook the air;
Serpentine lightning darted in the sky, and
Lava streams slithered down the slopes.
But then the Sun of God dazzlingly dawned,
And He put an end to the dark night;
Beams of bright light, both red and white,
Streamed soothingly into my soul.
Atop the summit, you took my hand,
And together we flew into the Light;
We laughed like merry little children,
Soaking in the sunshine of pure Mercy.
TO ST. CLARE OF ASSISI /
Your exquisite bright blue eyes
are soft and serene,
Beholding the remarkable
richness of God’s creation;
Your honey hair cascades
over your shoulders like a
Wonderful waterfall of God’s
ineffable, indelible love;
Yet you choose to be a
princess of holy poverty,
And your only wish is to
sweetly serve in simplicity;
You are a faithful friend to
the good Saint Francis,
As you both sacrificially surrender
to Jesus the Just;
You are a merciful mother
to the nuns of San Damiano,
As you guide them in purity
and prudence and peace;
You are a beauteous bride
to Christ the Courageous,
And your soul is bedecked with
the precious pearls of virtue;
As you fervently follow in the
footsteps of Our Loving Lord,
May we too live on in
the laudable light of Christ.
TO ST. FRANCIS OF ASSISI /
Your jolly, joyful eyes dreamily dance
to the sublime, saintly symphony
Of the unimaginably beautiful creations
of the Most High Lord God;
Your pious, prayerful persistence
and earnest embrace transform the
Leprous lechery of our lives into
the radiant Son-shine of lasting love;
Your voice, like a melodious and
musical church bell, resonates and
Reverberates throughout the ages
with the clarity and purity of truth;
Your simple, kindly actions speak
louder than the sonic boom of the
Ghastly gossip and eloquently
empty chatter of the world.
TO ST. BERNARD OF CLAIRVAUX /
Good St. Bernard, you love
Our Lord and Our Lady so much:
You were a sincere confessor,
But in the confessional,
You were too severe,
Far far too severe,
And so the Spirit taught you
Gentleness, sweet gentleness;
Maybe it was from you that
St. Francis de Sales learned,
For he so famously said that
We will catch more flies
With a spoonful of honey
Than with a barrelful of vinegar.
TO ST. PATRICK /
You’re a stout lad from the big Scottish isle,
A future bishop without any guile;
Kidnappers take you away from your home,
Across a sea that ripples with white foam;
In Ireland you are made a poor slave,
Life is rough, though you try hard to be brave;
You draw close to God and He sets you free,
At last with your eyes your homeland you see;
You return to Ireland so smart, so wise,
And clearly reveal all the devil’s lies;
You pray “Christ on my left, Christ on my right,”
And you help the Irish find the true Light.
TO ST. MONICA /
You agreed to marry Patricius the pagan,
Humbly submitting to your parents’ will,
You were very kind and generous to him,
Though he responded by treating you ill;
But about a year before leaving this world,
He finally accepted the Nicene Creed,
Through your example of faith and love,
His stubborn soul was finally freed.
However, you still had much work to do,
For your son Augustine broke your heart,
He was a teacher who was very arrogant,
And he strutted because he was smart;
But you vigorously persisted in prayer,
Fasting with tears over his empty life,
When he met the great Bishop Ambrose,
The Spirit pierced your son like a knife.
It was on Easter that the saintly Ambrose
Joyfully baptized your prodigal son,
Who went on to become a Church Father,
And many victories over heretics won;
The end of your life was so very sweet,
As Augustine treated you like gold,
You’re the patroness of motherhood,
And of your story many have been told.
TO ST. NICHOLAS /
You are the merry Christmas saint,
You tried to live without complaint;
A bishop with a cheerful heart,
Your words pierced like a loving dart;
Your gift of gold saved three sweet maids,
Who always feared the Roman raids;
With holiness you beat the foe,
Your jolly laugh goes ho, ho, ho.