Because of My Father I

Last updated on: January 24, 2017 at 7:22 pm by Webster Bull

Because of My Father I 2017-01-24T19:22:12-05:00 Webster Bull

LOGO Patheos Explore the world's faith through different perspectives on religion and spirituality! Patheos has the views of the prevalent religions and spiritualities of the world.

My father came to me in a dream just before dawn this morning, and though I promised Ferde I’d turn off the blog machine until Monday, my father is a higher authority even than Ferde.

In my dream my father was sick, weak with fatigue and nausea just as he was last summer, his last summer, when he was dying of melanoma. He walked toward me dressed in black and slumped into my arms and said, “Oh, my son.” I helped him to a chair, which in my dream was one of those schoolroom chairs with the flip-up seat and fold-down desktop. He slid into it, and I noticed that he was wearing a black cowboy hat, a darker version of the one he wears in the classic picture of Dad as a child, dressed as a cowpuncher. Then I woke up. I said my morning prayer of thanks and got up. Katie asked me what time it was. It was five o’clock. “Had a dream about Dad,” I said, “and he was sick, but it was OK. It was a loving dream.”

And so to blog . . .

My father, so proud of me and so supportive late in life, especially I think when I “went Catholic,” was present at my first communion and confirmation in March 2008. He had become my best male friend in the years just previous. We played a lot of golf together, and took three long trips: a cross-country train trip, a roots trip through Minnesota and the Dakotas to see such sights as his parents’ birthplaces, and finally a Civil War battlefields trip in 2007. Eighteen months later he was dead.

I want to be clear that my father was fully healthy at the time of my reception into the Catholic Church. I did not “fall into the arms of the Church” with grief over my father’s illness or death. At least, we thought he was healthy. But a lesion that had been removed three years before had left its biochemical traces apparently, and the insidious, incurable melanoma found its way into his system. By the time he was scanned, the week he turned 83, there were tumors dotting his abdomen. The regimen of chemo prescribed by his oncologist was purely pro forma.

My father’s last summer of life was my first summer as a Catholic. Viewed selfishly, there was something of the Resurrection for me in this. My earthly father was giving way, but my heavenly father was taking over. Well, OK. I didn’t really think of it that way at the time.

What I experienced was the extraordinary grace of being surrounded by the Catholic Church, and especially by friends like Ferde and Father Barnes, as the final events of my father’s life unfolded. The grace of being able to give him, I imagine, some small measure of spiritual comfort when I told him and wrote him, as I did, that I firmly believed he was in good hands. (A devout Episcopalian and faithful churchman, I trust that Dad believed it anyway.) The grace of sitting with him in his hospice room and ultimately sleeping in that room for four nights during his final week, and reading him psalms from the Liturgy of the Hours, even when he was apparently unconscious. He would rouse now and then and smile wanly at me. There was a quiet of heaven in that hospice room.

Dad’s illness and death on September 23, 2008, brought us all together. The photo shows Dad and me with my younger brother, David, Dad’s namesake. Dad loved David, as he did all of his children. By the time he passed away, each of Dad’s six children and all of his eleven grandchildren had ample opportunity to say good-bye, to tell Dad just how much they loved him. For each of us at one time or another, he was what the psalmist says: our rock, our refuge.

Dad is gone now. The rock remains.

(I have titled this post with a Roman numeral. It’s obvious to me that this will not be my last world on Dad.)

Uncategorized

Previous Post

September 5, 2009

Because of the Evidence

Next Post

September 7, 2009 Because This Is My Church

Browse Our Archives

Select a Category Blog News Conversion Story Culture Learning Living Nature Prayer Uncategorized Working

Select a Month June 2016 May 2016 August 2015 July 2015 June 2015 May 2015 April 2015 March 2015 February 2015 January 2015 December 2014 November 2014 October 2014 September 2014 August 2014 July 2014 June 2014 May 2014 April 2014 March 2014 February 2014 January 2014 December 2013 November 2013 October 2013 September 2013 August 2013 July 2013 June 2013 May 2013 April 2013 March 2013 February 2013 January 2013 December 2012 November 2012 October 2012 September 2012 August 2012 July 2012 June 2012 May 2012 April 2012 March 2012 February 2012 January 2012 December 2011 November 2011 October 2011 September 2011 August 2011 July 2011 June 2011 May 2011 April 2011 March 2011 February 2011 January 2011 December 2010 November 2010 October 2010 September 2010 August 2010 July 2010 June 2010 May 2010 April 2010 March 2010 February 2010 January 2010 December 2009 November 2009 October 2009 September 2009 August 2009

TAKE THE

Religious Wisdom Quiz

How many men did Joshua initially send to Ai?

Select your answer to see how you score.

2,000 3,000 5,000 4,000