Of Death

Yesterday was a tough one for some of my boys. They barely avoided going to bed under-nourished due to their behavior. So last evening when we sat down to say the rosary, Mrs. Curley and I exchanged silent understanding and decided to precede the rosary with some family conversation - which we knew would turn into hilarity.

The conversation ranged far and wide, but somehow we got onto the subject of my funeral arrangements. We debated whether I should buried in the backyard, which funeral home, whether I could be waked at home, etc. Number 2 (in age) son commented he wanted to put a lock on my coffin to make sure no one stole my body. I commented back that no one would steal my body unless it was incorrupt, and they were looking for relics. This brought up the whole debate about what to do with me if my body were incorrupt. One son was for leaving me in the den in the rocking chair.

Then the issue of the epitaph on the headstone was raised. This was a fun one indeed. Mrs. Curley wanted it to say, "Dogs - keep away!". Number one daughter, (who blogged in my place here), proposed "keep the grass cut so I can see!" I noted that Thomas More wrote his own epitaph and that with such suggestions as I was receiving, I should follow his example.

The laughter was flowing (at my expense usually) and all was arighted in the Curley clan. So we finally started the rosary. This is where things changed. It became obvious by the middle of the 2nd decade that some were meditating upon my demise instead of on the Luminous Mysteries. Number 1, 2, and 3 sons were sobbing; number 1 and 2 daughter and Mrs. Curley were stifling giggles at the boys expense. The youngest two were sleeping by now. [I commented later to Mrs. Curley that I now knew who was being left out of the will.]

I was touched that the boys would mourn for me even now. Although it did cause me to think that the mourning was so sorrowful because maybe they were unsure of my ultimate destination.

I told the boys they needed to meditate on their own death and not mine; that if we each did this more often, we would more likely be merrily reunited in Heaven to praise God together.

We attended the Liturgy together this morning for the first time since All Saints Day (due to sickness at the homestead).

From the small holding in Bethune ...

St. Francis Xavier - ora pro nobis

Oremus pro invicem!