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Happiest Mass I Ever Attended Was a Funeral

Wow. Another great piece from one of the best Catholic writers out there.

It started with a death on Ash Wednesday. My father had been ill, and on the Monday before Lent, I felt the push to pray that he not be alone. I prayed too—no, I wanted—that my mother, who had spent the last year driving to Orange, Texas, nearly every day to keep him company, would not be robbed of those last few moments of their marriage. I prayed that she would not be alone either. On Tuesday, Dad took a turn for the worse. When my mother called me, I shared my prayer—said it was my "wish" prayer, and she said it was a good wish. He passed on Ash Wednesday, with my mother holding his hand, and there were two people with her. My first thought, upon hearing this was, "God, I didn't mean now!"
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