The Last Words

Yesterday, while we were at Mass, Paul leaned over and asked me what the responsorial to the reading of Psalm 22 meant.

R. My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?

I thought it was a very curious thing for him to ask me. We have heard it and read it many, many times before in our lives. I wondered why he would ask now what it meant.

Since we were in church, I quickly explained that these words were spoken by Jesus at the time of his death and that the psalmist in this writing was also suffering and felt in the moment a sense of abandonment by God. But God answered the psalmist's prayers, as He will answer ours. Paul nodded his head, but I realized I had not adequately answered his question. I meant to get back to him on it, but later forgot about it.

Last night, I remembered these words vividly as I actually felt it in my heart. Paul had had a very long and painful day. He was taking medicine every 4 hours to help with his head pain, which stayed around an 8. He did not get up except to visit for a little while with Jonathan and Joseph Tarantino, when they stopped by. He didn't talk too much during that visit, mostly sat and listened to all of us converse. As soon as they left, he was back in bed. His shoulder was hurting again and his stomach. He has started to tell us almost every day that his shoulder hurts, in the back by his shoulder blade. We have made an appointment to see an orthopedist for this and his appointment is April 16th. Also, he complained that his stomach hurt a lot yesterday, and he did not eat much.

Around 10 PM, Paul was still not sleeping and he came into our room and said his head was throbbing. He spoke to us in a very quiet tone of voice and from his movements, I could tell he was in great pain. He was not due for medication, so I went back to his room with him to rub his back, hopefully to help him get through the next hour. I felt so helpless, like so many times before. I remembered last year at this time, he was in great pain and by the end of Holy Week, he was back in the hospital for surgery. Remembering this, and listening to him breathe in his pain, the flood of tears poured out again. I felt so overwhelmed with the seemingly little progress we have made since then! I felt out and out fatigue as I remembered how many long hours at night I have sat at Paul's bedside, praying and begging God to help Paul in his pain, or to give it to me and let Paul go free. Then Paul reached over to the edge of his bed, where the stuffed bear he had as a child was sitting. It was leaned up against the wall in the corner. He pulled it to him and sighed out in pain. I had to ask God those very words we read that morning.........My God, my God, why have you abandoned him? How much more helpless do we have to be? My once strong and active son has been relegated to this limp form, and like a child, trying to find something to bring him comfort in the moment. I wondered how many times Paul had reached for his bear when he was a little boy and talked to it and cried into it? How sad that in his desperation to have his pain relieved, he had to reach for a stuffed bear! I became angered about it and again asked God, why had he abandoned Paul? I didn't mean to be a bother to Paul, but I started to cry and he heard me. He turned over and took my hand. He told me not to cry, that everything would be alright. In anger I said I would hope to shout it would be alright, because it was getting too hard to watch him suffer, with no way to help him. He said that God was helping him. Again, with anger I responded that I wish I knew how God was helping him. I said that I was trying very hard to keep trusting, but that it just didn't make sense to keep Paul in bed. What would be the reason for that? Why wasn't there a relief in pain, just enough, to let Paul actually go out into the world and be of some use? Why didn't God bring just a little bit of healing?

Paul's response was "He has healed me. In ways you can't see."
Once again, I too was healed.
I squeezed Paul's hand and said that I would never leave his side, until he was ready to walk out on his own. I would not abandon him, nor would I abandon my trust in God.

I looked up the words of that responsorial today. I wanted a better explanation of their intent.

"My God, my God, why have you abandoned me? Why so far from my call for help, from my cries of anguish? My God, I call by day, but you do not answer; by night, but I have no relief.
Yet you are enthroned as the Holy One; you are the glory of Israel.
In you our ancestors trusted; they trusted and you rescued them.
To you they cried out and they escaped; in you they trusted and were not disappointed.

The psalmist remembers God's mercy towards his ancestors. God did not abandon them. They too were called to have full trust in the Lord. And they were not forsaken.
In the reality of our daily lives, when we have to face the more tragic and painful times, we are very aware of the pain our suffering causes and the helplessness we are left with. In these times we can't help but feel extremely vulnerable. In my anger, I am only displaying my frustration at the full realization that I am not in control. I want to solve this NOW and move on. But our ways are not God's ways and He has reminded me of this daily. What I fail to do is remember the last words spoken as Jesus died. "Into your hands, I commend my spirit." And that my friends is the response God wants me to say.

Apparently, Paul already knew this. Funny how the child is teaching the parent.

I then read the following this morning.

"Have pity on me, God, not according to your lesser mercy; your lesser mercy brings alleviation to bodily ills, but your great mercy grants remission of sin and raises the penitent by grace over all that is greatest on earth. According to this great mercy have pity on me, Lord, so as to convert me to you, wiping out my sins and justifying me by your grace.

Mary Magdalene comes to your feet, good Jesus, washes them with her tears, dries them with her hair;
You pardon her and send her away in peace - that, dear Lord is one of your mercies. Peter denies you, protesting with an oath that he does not know you; one look from you and he weeps bitterly. You pardon him, confirming him as prince of the apostles - another example, Lord, of your mercy. The thief on the cross is saved by a single word. Paul, at the time a rabid persecutor, is filled with the Holy Spirit as soon as you call him. Such, Lord, are your mercies.

Time would fail me if I tried to count them all. The number of your mercies equals the number of men, women and children justified by your grace. No one can boast of his own achievement. "
Fr. Savonarola, O.P (died in 1498, a Dominican priest who taught theology in Florence)


"To be a witness ..... simply means to live in such a way that one’s life would not make sense if God did not exist."

And so we start a new day. Unfortunately, Paul still does not feel well today and we are waiting to hear back from his doctor. I had brought him a couple of different things to eat, hoping he might feel up to one or the other. I sat talking to him as he sat on the end of his bed, eating the Nutrigrain bar. I told him that I know I gave God a hard time last night and that I keep getting hung up on asking for things that were more in the category of earthly rewards................instant healings, no worries, no struggles. I told him that I probably will never understand all of this and that I would trade with Paul in a minute, so he could go out into the world. Paul said, "No you don't. You really don't know what you are asking and besides, if God gave me a choice, I would not let him take the pain away." Paul then smiled and handed me the other snack bar I had given him as a choice. He said, "Not to worry - here's your earthly reward."

Lead your people, Lord.
Love,
Jon and Rebecca