Parenting 2.0

Cousin Laurie: I also remember the many visits to Dublin St.  Whether you were cold, hungry or thirsty didn’t matter in the least.  You got a hot water bottle, a drink and food.  The most memorable for me were the dreaded Xmas cookies.  They were in unrecognizable shapes, came with pink and mint green icing and would break your teeth.  I have some of the cookie cutters in my kitchen and apparently Grandad made some of them in his industrial arts class!!

My favourite dinner memory will always be the mini salt and pepper shakers between each place.  These so fascinated me that Nana actually made sure to leave me two pairs when she passed away.  It’s funny the little things that mean so much…

One of my favourite Grandad stories is one I recall every Christmas, especially now that I have my own children.  He told me on Xmas eve he would tell the boys sleeping in the attic that if Santa arrived and they were still awake there would be no presents left for them.  Then he would go outside and throw snowballs at the roof directly over their heads.  Imagine their panic and desperation to be quiet!!  Typical Grandad…

Consider this recent memory of Cyril .

He now lives comfortably but away from his Dublin Street home and family.

He misses Shirley, his wife and life-long companion.

Any one of us present here at church,

seek out Cyril’s company and say hello.

A conversation ensues, the themes are not so important.

What is noteworthy is the light of loving presence

that shines forth from Cyril.

I last saw Cyril on Christmas Eve.

On this day last week there is no darkness.

The signs of our Savior’s birth are evident.

Cyril, a grand old man of 93, nears the end of his days.

He body says… “I am soon out of here.”

His spirit says… “I am here for the long haul”

Jesus says… “Do not let your hearts be troubled.”

Cyril lives as the saint Theresa of Avila exhorts…

Let nothing disturb you,

Let nothing frighten you,

All things are passing.

God alone is changeless.

Patience wins all things,

The person who has God wants nothing.

God alone suffices.

Approaching Cyril who sits in his chair I greet him…

“How ya doing Cyril?”

Cyril looks up at me and lights up…

Although he does not recognize me – at least not in the usual way.

He says little but he speaks with a prophet’s voice.

“It’s good to see you.”

“Life could not be better”.

He gaps my hand with the authority

of a trusting loving heart

reaching out to a neighbor.. and a son who isn’t,

but who is made to feel like one.

I came to encourage Cyril.

Instead, it is my heart swells with encouragement.

In this brief encounter a précis of life’s meaning is told.

Cyril died knowing he is God’s beloved.

Cyril life-message is remembered today as an affirmation

that we are as Cyril – no less God’s beloved.

The cycle of our human life is complete with the death of JC.

Cyril was born,

lived to celebrate and suffer onto death

—everybody’s ordinary human condition.

In truth, there is nothing extraordinary about the life of Cyril

except in the extraordinary manner to which he was wedded to ‘our common life’.

Cyril loved being a human being.

He deeply appreciated the gift of our human life

and easily smiled his way into all of our lives.

He was very comfortable ‘in his own skin’

and gave this example for all of us to follow.

While his body in later years knew better that

‘life could be and is in fact tragic’

– he knew as do we now in remembrance of him

that on a deeper level life is:

THE VERY BEST

LIFE COULD NOT BE BETTER

This is so because our journey leads to a loving union with God, no less!

How could JC speak these words

so that it worked for him and became true to us?

The God of Cyril is God, the Compassionate One.

Our God is ‘the one who is ‘with suffering’ – compassion.

Our God is Jesus who is born in a manger to poor, unmarried parents,

with little to their name according to the standards of ‘this world’.

God choose to become human.

Jesus’ life give testimony that it is not just OK to be human but very good indeed!

This is a central truth about Cyril’s life.

As a baptized Christian,

he like all other Christians,

is assigned to tell some small part about God story of salvation.

What it is, is a simple and most basic reality.

Let me repeat myself.

Cyril, you and me are God’s beloved.

God gives us a way, this truth and much life – eternal life through our shared life with Jesus, born of Mary and fostered by Joseph.

JC, the Christian, instinctively resonated with this reality.

There is Christ in every Christian.

Cyril’s life testifies to his heart-felt knowledge.

In his heart he knew Christ – God who is love, loving.

God wants to tell us God’s great story of love

for our broken, wounded, and too often ignorant human race.

This is the message of Jesus…

The Prophet Isaiah speaks…

“For a child has been born to us, a Son is given to us.”

God is our flesh, our blood, our bones.

God becomes human that we become God, who is love, loving.

Cyril knew this.

In this heart – where is found his deepest life desires (orientations) Cyril choose to be as Christ and to do as Christ.

And so Cyril loved us.

In life he followed the words of St. Ignatius Loyola who is quoted…

“Authentic love shows itself in deeds over and above words.”

With Cyril in mind we read the words of

this parish’s patroness:

“Miss no single opportunity of making some small sacrifice, here by a smiling look, there by a kindly word; always doing the smallest things right, and doing all for love.”

Cyril could not always ‘do’ things for others –

but he was ‘present’ in life to the end.

He lived within his means of opportunities for loving others

and we are better for it!

I am not saying he’d understand his life as now described by myself

BUT I speak with images about ‘the truth that Cyril lived’.

Let us consider how Cyril is today admired.

His life was inspired [fueled] by his active everyday participation

in the Church’s sacramental life

BUT he was not a person to rest easy in the pews of this Church

while there was work making God’s Kingdom on earth a reality…

here and now, in full of view of anyone and everyone who cared to notice!

First within the confines of his Dublin Street family home

Next in our neighborhood Church and school

Later in the streets of Halifax and among the homeless and otherwise disadvantaged

No less, was he a citizen of this world.

Where he could not go to the world, the world came to him, even Vietnam!

Cyril, being a man of God, was a who reflected the likeness of God as Father,

As such he was largely a man of hospitality; of welcome and good humor.

One of his most striking attributes was his inclusiveness.

While Cyril turned away (defended against) evil doing,

what is hurtful and is death dealing to other persons,

Did he ever turn other people away? I think not.

Try this image for Cyril.

His life was sacred space wherein God’s charity is given a face.

I suppose he must have exasperated his dear wife,

Shirley, because the number of loving activities he juggled were many.

{Cyril is not a canonized saint, yet today we highlight many holy [healthy] aspects of his life… and well we ought to do so our focus gives God’s glory.}

The glory of God is humanity fully alive.

Cyril was lived so to give life to others!

We’ve all read his obituary.

He spent himself early, middle and late in life as though there was no tomorrow.

The Knights of Columbus

St. Vincent de Paul Society

His work towards the making of good public schools like Oxford

His service on parish councils and Archdiocesan Commissions

These are things that live today with the imprint of Cyril on them.

There were times when his efforts got acknowledged,

more often his work went unnoticed in the middle of a summer or winter night.

Cyril was not a pie in the sky kind of fellow.

He was a mystic of active service.

There are four basic elements in life.

They are air, water, fire and earth.

Cyril’s element was earth.

The English word ‘human’ is rooted in the latin word, humus – earth.

Cyril was grounded.

His life was spend meeting basic human needs,

and largely the needs of other persons.

Yet, Cyril was not all earth.

He was a breath of positive, fresh air,

he had fire in his belly,

and gave full expression to essential fluid emotions

required for good mental health.

He lived with life with a high level of integrity, girt,

determination and much grace. He was a gentleman!

He was not without special attachments in life.

I suggest to us that…

his attachments pleased God

and pleased many of us who love Cyril.

Now this tribute comes to an end…

The Old Man of Crete

We must all let go of the securities, the defenses, the devices which the world recommends. Our gain is in the loss.

Once upon a time there was an old man from the island of Crete. He loved his land with a deep intensity, so much so that when he knew he was about to die, he had his sons bring him outside and lay him on the ground. As he was about to expire, he reached down by his side and clutched some earth in his hands. He died a happy man.

He now appeared before heaven’s gates. God, in the guise of an old, white-bearded man, came out to greet him. “Welcome,” he said, “you’ve been a good man. Please come into the joys of heaven.” But as the man was about to enter through the pearly gates, God said, “Please, you must let the soil go.”

“Never!” cried the old man, stepping back. “Never!”

And so, God sadly departed, leaving the old man outside the pearly gates.

A few eons went by and God came out again, this time in the guise of an old friend, an old drinking crony. They had a few drinks, told some stories, and them God said, “All right, time to enter heaven, friend. Let’ go.” And they started for the pearly gates. And once more God requested that the old man let go of his soil, and once more the old man refused.

More eons rolled by. God came out once more, this time in the guise of the old man’s delightful and playful granddaughter. “Oh, granddaddy,” she said, “you’re so wonderful and we all miss you. Please come inside with me.”

The old man nodded as she helped him up, for by this time he had grown very old indeed and very arthritic. In fact, so arthritic was he that he had to prop up the right hand holding Crete’s soil with his left hand.

They moved toward the pearly gates, and at this point his strength quite gave out. His gnarled fingers would no longer stay clenched, with the result that the soil sifted out between them until his hand was empty. Empty-handed, he entered heaven. The first thing he saw was his beloved island.

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JCT Funeral Mass–Dec 31, 2009

Musings by son Greg

I am Greg and I am very proud to say that I am Cyril’s son

It is sad to know that dad has passed away, but is very comforting to know that he led a very full and wonderful life and he left us with many great memories.

You are probably familiar with the term “life altering event”. Dad had one of those too. —It wasn’t when his first grandson, Michael was born, although that was a very important event for him!

–It wasn’t when his first child, David was born, although that too was very significant event for him.

–It wasn’t when he married his life long love and wife of 66 years, Shirley, although that too was very important to him.

–It happened long before any of these events.

Dad’s “life altering event” happened when he was 7 months old!

At that time, Halifax experienced a cataclysmic event, the great Halifax explosion. The explosion destroyed his family home, and in recovery from that event, dad’s dad, my grandfather; built a new home on what was then the outskirts of the city of Halifax. That home was built about 100 yards behind this altar, on Dublin Street.

That home became his home for the next 88 years! He never moved out of there until 3 years ago when his wife died and his health prevented him from living there alone.

During that 88 year tenure, this home became the base of all of his life’s missionary works.

Yesterday, at the wake, I re-met an old childhood acquaintance of dad’s. Al (not sure if he is here today or not) grew up with dad. They played together in that house as young children, much as I had some 30 years later. Al regaled me with stories of their adventures as young boys and men, and I thank him for adding to my store of memories about dad.

At the wake, some of us got into a discussion trying to find a single word that described dad to a “tee”. We finally landed on the word “welcoming”, and we think it fits very well. In fact, Father Earl, in his homily today used that very word when talking about dad. Most of you in attendance here today are here, because in some way or other dad welcomed you into his personal, work or religious life.

I recall two events that demonstrate why this word is so appropriate.

Let me preface this example, by saying that my mother wanted each of her 3 boys to be priests. She fully expected that it would be we three, celebrating their funeral masses, rather than Father Earl and his gang up here on the altar. However, as you can see, that’s not quite how it played out.

When my lovely wife Sara agreed to marry me we were very excited. We rushed off to see Jim and Frances to ask their permission as well as to share our joy. Jim, although a little reserved, after all it was his oldest daughter; and Frances were very happy along with us. We then rushed up to Dublin Street to share the news with mum and dad. It was a nice sunny day and they were out in the yard doing some gardening, mum down on her knees weeding. When we showed her the ring, she asked what it was then said “nice” and turned back to her gardening. Not the overwhelming excitement that we expected. Dad, on the other hand, was very excited and jumped around and hugged each of us and really welcomed Sara into his family.

The second example was driven home to me yesterday at the wake. As Father Earl said in his remarks, dad’s welcoming style spread even to Viet Nam. Yesterday I saw expressions of love and respect from the Tran family, that truly drove home the concept that dad was a very welcoming person. He acted as host to help the Tran family settle in Halifax, when they emigrated here some 30 years ago. The Tran’s, in their respectful manner yesterday showed me, that to dad, they were every much his children as well.

In closing I want to express a few thank you s:

–I thank each and every one of you for coming here today to help share our sadness, but more importantly to celebrate dad’s full and wonderful life.

–I thank Father Earl for his very eloquent, moving and personal remembrances of dad. I only wish that I had a tape recorder to record and replay that talk over again. I will ask him to provide us with a copy of the homily.

–I want to thank my brothers Dave & Mark. Now you might wonder why I am singling out these two, rather than including all of my brothers and sisters. Well, my three sisters and I do not live in Halifax and over the past 3 years while dad was in failing health, there were countless decisions that had to be made and details that needed to be tended. Dave & Mark, as the Halifax residents were left to do all of this work; and they did it admirably and with great compassion and love. They really got it, they deserve our special thanks.

–I started out by saying that I am proud to be Cyril’s son.

So I want to thank my dad for every day setting the example of how to be an excellent husband and wonderful father. He set the model for all of us and I try to emulate those examples constantly.  I hope that Shirley and Cyril are some where up there floating around looking down at these proceedings and saying: “those are our children and we are proud of them”!

Thank you.

Note: The pictures below are from Grandad in the 1920s.