DarjeelinGirl

I don’t know where Becki Snow is from but she has been at the hospice through it all. From the moment they removed Terri’s feeding tube (a spoon or straw to you and me) Becki protested with a hunger strike. I have been tracking her blog ever since. She vowed to fast until Terri was rescued from the hospice. Becki is naturally a good writer and her firey spunk irradiates the blogosphere with God’s truth and righteousness even more. This post of the end of her fast is incredible.

Breaking Fast, Body and Soul

When the end came, it was an achingly poigniant way to break fast.

I arrived at Hospice shortly after Terri’s death. Do not expect tears from me at a funeral; I never cry at a funeral. I am the one running around in the background, helping people with their wheelchairs, taking water to old folks, making sure that people are greeted at the door. There will always be time for crying later. So I approached this day - not with tears, but with a determination find some job to do.

I came upon Catholic Mass in progress, and at the helm was Father Melanowski. This is a man’s man, a tall white-haired military Chaplain who served bravely in combat during the Korean War. Hale and fiesty at 82, he has been Terri’s Priest, and if I were ever to become Catholic this man would be the reason. He’s the kind of man who makes you believe in priests again. He and I have known each other for years, and even though he knows I am not Catholic, he never hesitates to bless me and call me by name. I confessed to him this week that I am truly a sinner, and yet he still seems ever caring, ever understanding. His support and concern for me throughout this hunger strike has been unwavering, so I am profoundly grateful to him. Upon seeing him, I fell to my knees and joined the service, in the grass in front of what used to be Terri’s earthly prison.

It was lovely, the meditative rhythms of the Aves rising above the reality of passing trucks and strolling passers-by. Then the Bread and the Wine were adored, and it was time to partake of the Eucharist - for everyone but me. I have never minded that; the belief that the Body and Blood of Christ are sacred and not to be taken lightly is more important than my need to feel included. When attending a Catholic mass, I simply cross my hands over my chest and bow my head so that the priest may give me a blessing rather than the Sacrament, thus avoiding any irreverance on my part. I prepared myself as Father Melanowski drew near, making the sign for him to pass even though I knew that he would merely bless me as he had so often before. The sign was merely to let others know I was refusing communion out of respect for their beliefs, not because of any lack of desire on my part.

Father Melanowski held up the host, and the sun shone through it. He pointed at me. I whispered to the man beside me “I think he means you”.

“No”, the man whispered back, “he wants you”.

Had the Father forgotten? Perhaps the stress had caused him to forget; I did truly want the sacrament, and it was plain from my expression that I longed for the comfort of Communion with God. None were there to give me this comfort from any other church, so I had no where else to turn. But I was afraid of making any mistake; I once again bowed my head, crossed my arms and patted visibly, so he might see it clearly. Father Melanowski now stepped directly in front of me, and he bent down from the full six feet two to put himself directly in front of me. He looked into my eyes: we’ve been through the fire together, haven’t we friend? We have been witness and we are changed forever…

“I know” he spoke with great tenderness. “This is for you - in memory of Terri”. I opened my mouth, speechless, and he place the wafer upon my tongue. It was then I leaned forward in disbelief and gratitude; in a moment of sadness, I had been given a great blessing. Still kneeling, I hid my face in the green grass and finally wept.

The fast was ended.

John 15:13-14
12My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you. 13Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends. 14You are my friends if you do what I command.

This entry was posted on Friday, April 1st, 2005 at 1:08 pm and is filed under general. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.