On Death and Dying - 3/22/2026

Caroline and I flew to Phoenix last week to attend the funeral of a dear, dear friend, someone of tremendous importance to Caroline. They were friends for over 35 years. Her death was premature and beyond tragic. For my beautiful wife, it's been devastating. For her husband, I don't know that there are words.

Monday, we'll drive up to Largo, about a hundred miles and two hours from here, to attend another funeral. This is the funeral of one of my dad's dear friends, someone of great importance to me. Just shy of 98 years old, he lived a long and good life, and was well loved. It hurts just the same. At 97, he has four beautiful daughters who love him tremendously, the way we all hope our kids love us. He goes away well loved, leaving with no question marks or doubts about that, and it is love that is the most important thing. He is and was loved.

Death. It happens to us. All of us. And when it does, the dead person is gone and those of us they leave behind have to deal with a new reality. We deal with our grief and loss. Caroline and I are watching Madison, on Paramount +. I'm not sure I remember a TV show that more directly deals with death of a spouse, parent, grandparent in a more open and painful way. I do recommend it. Michelle Pfeiffer is spectacular. She really is. I can only imagine how recently widowed people feel watching it. The rest of us, like Caroline and I for example, in long-term marriages and relationships, can't help but wonder how our own mortality will play out. Will I lose her first, or will she lose me? Will she be OK if I go, or will I be ok if she goes? We all face it.

A Catholic Funeral Ritual. (Wow the church looks empty!)

Olympia Dukakis had a great line in Moonstruck. At least I'm pretty sure it was, I couldn't find it via internet search this morning. She said something like: "All love stories end the same way: either boy loses girl, or girl loses boy." I got to be honest here. I'm planning on going to heaven. I'm banking on it. But I'm not ready to go there yet. I don't want Caroline to have to figure out how to manage without me. My mom has buried one son, I want her to live her late years without ever having to deal with another loss like the loss of Danny.

"She's in a better place."

"He's in Jesus's loving arms now."

"He's not in pain anymore."

"She's finally back with her husband, in heaven."

I get all of that. And I do believe in Jesus and I do plan to go to heaven and I do believe it's a better place. I do. But I'm just not ready. I don't feel like things are finished here.

Today's Gospel reading at Mass was John 11:1-45, the famous story of Lazarus. Lazarus had two sisters, Mary and Martha. And he must have been a pretty close friend of Jesus's, because like Caroline did last week in Phoenix, and like we will again at the funeral tomorrow, Jesus wept. Jesus wept. Think about it. If anyone knows about heaven and the "better place" we go to, isn't it Jesus? But, having fully taken on human life, Jesus shared the same human emotions we do. Even though he knows/knew of Lazarus's fate in the afterlife, he still wept, mourning the human loss. Luckily for Mary, Martha, and Lazarus, having the Messiah as your buddy does have its benefits, and Lazarus got a new lease on life. Not all of us get that.

In Madison last night, there's a poignant scene where Kurt Russel's granddaughter says she can't remember what her recently departed grandpa looked like. Shown a picture of him, she sadly but with childlike matter of factness says, (paraphrasing) "That's the only way I'll ever see him again, in pictures."

People leave. It's so finite. Sometimes it takes a long time for someone we love to die. Other times it's unexpected and sudden. In a way, it doesn't matter. It hurts. It just hurts. What really sucks is you don't get over it. You just get used to it.

Eternal life in heaven is a cornerstone of Christian faith. Jesus said (John 11:25-26):

"I am the resurrection and the life; he who believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and whoever lives and believes in me shall never die."

I'm going to heaven. Planning on it. But keeping with the cinematic theme, I'll just say this:

"Heaven can wait."

Make the most of this most precious gift: life. Love one another fully and unconditionally, and love God with all your heart, soul, and strength. Be ready for heaven when you eventually do leave, but take good care and stay here as long as you can. The God who waits for us in heaven isn't constrained by space or time, so if you live to 105, you're not cheating Him out of anything, Live and love fully, and with all your heart.

For those who have left us, including our beautiful friend in Phoenix and our dear friend in Largo, and all the people we've all lost:

May they rest in peace in Jesus's loving arms. This I pray, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

Amen.