I wish I had good news to report in the case of a good family friend, concelebrant at my wedding, the first principal under whose leadership I was privileged to teach, and most of all a wonderful priest. (Actually, to be technically correct, it's "Monsignor T" but he'll always be "Father T" to me. I knew him far too long under that name.)
But, (expletive deleted because this is a family-friendly blog) that is not the case.
Tonight my uncle emailed me that Father T has learned that the cancer has returned, and he cannot handle the rigors of more chemo. Instead, he is contacting hospice. The only good news is that Father T is in no pain. He's had enough of that over the course of this long illness.
So I come to you to ask again for prayers for Father T.
But what do I ask? I don't want to pray for a peaceful death for him. I don't want him to have to have a death--not now, anyway. Father T is not someone I see often but he was part of some of the Big Stuff in my life and I don't like the idea of having to let him go, even if it is to a better place.
And what do I say, to those who are closer to Father T than I ever was?
I guess that all I have at this time is the Irish Blessing:
May the road rise to meet you
May the wind be always at your back
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
And the rain fall soft upon your field
And until we meet again
May God hold you in the palm of his hand.