A Love Story that Embraced God’s Love

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Sometimes God puts you in a place and you just have to stand in awe and humility as you  feel His presence.  This is about a love story and, no doubt about it, I  know HE has been involved.   Why I was allowed to be a small part of this story is beyond me.  But I was and I thank HIM for it.  Anyway,  please allow me to share my experience(s) of the past several months.  I was witness to the love shared between Ed and Cathy, husband and wife, both dying from cancer, together, holding hands, smiling at each other and at peace as the days passed by.

Ed and Cathy Caramiglio  had only been my neighbors for a short time, less than a year I think.  Ed was a retired commercial painter and also a master wood carver who had his magnificent creations all around his house.  Ed and Cathy were simply enjoying life together.  I guess the two of them might be considered an unusual couple.  They had  met when Ed was 60 and Cathy was 40 and neither had ever been married.  Now, after celebrating their silver wedding anniversary, Ed’s prostate cancer had returned with a vengeance and was destroying him quickly.  Cathy had been diagnosed with Stage IV Melanoma. She told me about that when ‘maybe’ she had six months to live. ( It was the exact same thing my first wife had died from 12 years earlier.)  So there they were,  three houses down, spending their last months together and making the best of what still was.

They had no children and it was just the two of them.  How did I fit in?  Well, besides being a neighbor, they knew  that I was an EMHC (Extraordinary Minister of Holy Communion), and asked me if I might bring Holy Communion to them if they could not make it to Mass.  I told her I would be honored and to “just let me know when.”

A few more months went by and Ed moved  slower and slower.  Then he began using a walker to get around. He would come over and we would just joke around about silly stuff, like  how many cream donuts he had eaten that morning or how much money he lost one night at Yonker’s Raceway in New York. The guy was only about five feet four but he loved to talk and laugh and had a sparkle in his eye that caught your attention instantly. I would ask if they could make it to Mass and he  would always smile and say, “Thanks,  Larry,  Cathy will let you know if we can’t.”  Unable to push that walker for more than ten feet it quickly became necessary for me  stop by and see how they were doing. Hospice was now there on a daily basis but they were still managing to function okay.

My daily routine usually starts at around 5:30 a.m.  with a one-hour walk.  A few weeks ago, I inexplicably decided that I needed  to take another walk. It was around 4 p.m.  I actually tried to talk myself out of taking this walk but finally “talked” myself into it.  (I guess I do talk to myself a lot.)  Out the door I went and headed down the street.  Ed has an F-150 brown Ford pick-up with a cap covering the truck bed.  As I walked past the truck I was dumbfounded to see Cathy standing there on the front lawn supported by her walker.  I stopped short and said, “Oh, Cathy, hi. Wow, I did not expect to see you standing here.”

“I was waiting for you. I need to talk to you.”

I was dumbfounded. “Are you kidding me? I never walk at this time of day and you say you were waiting for me.”

“I just knew you were coming by.  I can’t explain it.”

I had a chill run down my back. I really did.  I leaned against the truck as she leaned heavily on her walker. She could hardly stand up. “You know Ed is dying, right?”

“Yes Cathy, I know. And how about you? How are you doing?”

She smiled and looked me right in the eye  saying, “I have a few weeks left.”

I tightened my lips, took a breath, and asked, “Do you want a priest?”

“Oh yes, please, can you do that for us?  That is why I was out here waiting for you. We need a priest right away.”

It was not necessary that a priest come at that very moment so I told her I would bring a priest over ASAP. She smiled and thanked me and I walked her back to the house. She did not mention herself once, only her husband.  She told me how she wished she could ease his suffering and how wonderful it might be if they could go for a bicycle ride just one more time.  She mentioned how she thanked God for every moment they had had together.

I went inside and she, Ed, and I hung out for about ten minutes just chatting.  Cathy excused herself and slowly walked back to the bedroom.  Ed quickly told me how he wished he could ease her suffering and how God had been so good to him allowing him to find such a great woman to share his life with.  When God is present sometimes it is hard to breathe. I took a deep breath,  gave Ed a hug and left.

We have a young priest at our parish, Father Scott.  He just turned 32.  I saw him Monday morning of Holy Week and told him about Ed and Cathy. He had to preside at a funeral at 10 a.m. and then go to the cemetery.  He said he would be free in the early afternoon and would then come over.  I headed to the church office and registered them as parishioners, something they had never done.  I went home and told my neighbors Father would be over later in the day and that they had been registered as parishioners at Sacred Heart Church. Ed started to cry.  Cathy hugged him and joined him crying.   Next thing  I knew my forefinger  was swiping itself  under the bottom of my right eye.  I told them I would be back later with Father Scott and left.

Father Scott spent about an hour with Ed and Cathy.  Ed and the young priest both had roots in Roanoke, Virginia, and talked and laughed and had a raucous good time together. Even though  the two of them were  separated by more than 50 years  it did not matter.  It was as if they had grown up together.  It was beautiful.  Father anointed both of them and told them he would come back the first chance he could.  It was the beginning of Holy Week and he would be busy.  They all hugged and said good-bye.

Easter Sunday I was privileged to bring Ed and Cathy Holy Communion. They were lying next to each other in bed, holding hands.  Ed smiled and said, “Larry, we are SO happy. This is the greatest Easter we ever had.”  He turned and looked at his wife who was smiling lovingly at him. She reached over and wiped his wet happy eyes.

Ed died last week.  Cathy is now a patient in Hospice House with little time left.  I will never forget Ed and Cathy because the love between them shined so brightly and was a beautiful, inspiring, God-given thing.  As for me, I just want to thank God for allowing  me to be their friend and a part of their final journey,  albeit for the briefest of moments.  I have been blessed.

 

When Charity is Counter Culture, We Need to Lead the Way

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Last year, I took my first job in the corporate world. I’m loving it, but there’s a lot I have to learn…and some things I never want to learn.

Last week, while most of us were in a meeting, three of our employees got laid off. (We were told in the meeting right after it happened.) These were hard-working and much admired men in the office, but the work they did, through no fault of their own, wasn’t paying for itself. It was out-of-the blue, and a pure budget decision.

We’re a close-knit group, so everyone was upset, and not because they were worried about their own jobs. The rest of the day was spent in group walks, a long lunch, and much discussion and commiseration. I suggested we get a card and take up a collection. The suggestion surprised folks. Apparently, when someone leaves a company, they’re just gone, and life moves on. I was told that that’s usual for any company, not just ours. To acknowledge their contribution and their loss, esp as a group, is  “counter-culture.”

Nonetheless, people loved the idea. Those who had been laid off before said how much they’d have appreciated knowing folks still cared. So I got cards and some envelopes and spent part of the day walking around the office. The cards filled to overflowing. Everyone pitched in some money. Our Human Resources guy sent the cards and gift cards for us (since he can’t divulge the addresses.) It may have been counter the corporate culture, but when asked, everyone was willing to help, even people who didn’t know the guys in question. It just took a nudge.

At our hearts, most of us are considerate and generous. But we’re also timid, sometimes lazy, and unwilling to take a risk that goes against the standard culture. As an outsider coming into the culture, I acted out of ignorance. If I’d spent 20 years in the corporate world, I don’t know if I’d been so quick to act.

We wait for someone else to spur us to action. I wonder if that’s why so many people believe so strongly in government welfare – with the government taking charge, we can rest easy, feeling we’re helping the poor without our having to take steps ourselves. When Mormons tithe, the money comes straight out of their paychecks. I must admit, I think that’s brilliant. I wish the Catholic Church had a direct-deposit tithing program. We’re already the biggest charitable organization in the world. Can you imagine how much more we could do if people could just assign a portion of their paycheck automatically instead of waiting until Sunday to think about it? Like the Jews demanding a king, we demand that someone else take charge and lead us in things we know we should do.

Regardless of whether you agree with welfare or mandatory tithing, the fact remains that there is so much more we can do – so much more that people are willing to do – if only we had a nudge. Be the one who does the nudging. Forget what “the culture” says and do what your heart says, and invite others to join you. You might be surprised at how people will rally behind you to help.

Books, and Toned Middles

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belly dancers for CWG croppedLast month, I talked about beginnings and how important they are to drawing the reader in to your book. It seems appropriate to continue on to story middles today.

Middles ought to be pretty simple. After all, it’s the stuff that happens between the beginning and the end. Many authors, however, struggle with middles. There’s a term for middles that lose their direction and energy: the dreaded Sagging Middle.

How do we keep our middles on task, doing the unsung but necessary work of getting the reader to the end of the story? How do we keep the energy high? Most important, how do we keep the reader engaged?

It’s best to step back and look at the big picture first. What is the underlying theme of your story? Is it clear and evident in every scene, though it’s likely never stated outright? Theme should be the basis for every action that takes place, every decision a character makes, and even descriptions of setting. Every word you use can and should further the development of the theme you’ve chosen. For more on THEME, click here.

Next, what about story structure? If you’ve built even a rudimentary five-sentence outline of turning points for a particular story, it is much easier to keep the individual scenes pointed in the right direction. No ambling about aimlessly in the rose garden and boring the readers—unless, of course, the rose garden is critical to both the theme and structure of this story! In that case, amble all you want, as long as there is purpose. For more on STRUCTURE, click here.

Now we get down to the nitty-gritty. Each scene in a story must have tension. This is sometimes referred to as conflict, and always results in suspense. Suspense isn’t defined as horror movie scary stuff; it’s simply a reader asking the question “What happens next” and turning the page to find out.

This is the key to toning up the middle of your book: Every scene and each chapter must have higher and higher stakes for the main characters. Each character has more to lose as the story progresses, and each character is forced into increasingly difficult choices. As situations evolve, and as the characters slog their way through their troubles, they reveal their increasingly deeper secrets to the reader. The characters struggle, and they grow. The reader identifies in some way, roots for them, and is willing to be swept along. For more on ROOTING FACTORS, click here.

One caution: Watch for filler, and ruthlessly cut it. It’s easy to rationalize that since this is the middle of the book, the reader is already caught up in it and won’t put it down, so you don’t have to work quite as hard, and nobody will notice that this whole scene/chapter doesn’t really advance the story; it’s just there because you, the author, like it. Nope. Readers are smart. Cut the scene if it doesn’t advance the story. Cut the details if they don’t advance the story. I know. It’s hard. If it’s too hard, create a file for deleted scenes and put the cuts there so they’re accessible if you want them later. I find that’s sometimes a necessary intermediate step, even though those end up fully deleted later. Human nature is pretty funny!

Once you approach the end of the book (or even at the end of chapters!), resist the urge to tie up loose ends too soon. I admit to that failing as a new author. My first attempts at chapters all had tidy endings. Wrong, wrong, wrong! Every chapter should end with an unanswered question. Analyze your favorite I-couldn’t-put-it-down book. What created that quality? I’m willing to bet it was ever more crucial unanswered questions, and lots of loose ends. For more on TENSION, click here, and for more on HOOKS, click here.

What tips do you have to share regarding middles? I’d love to hear a new take on the subject!

A blessed Christmas Eve to all

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Luke 2: 1-20 The Infancy Narrative

NativityIn those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that the whole world should be enrolled. This was the first enrollment, when Quirinius was governor of Syria. So all went to be enrolled, each to his own town. And Joseph too went up from Galilee from the town of Nazareth to Judea, to the city of David that is called Bethlehem , because he was of the house and family of David, to be enrolled with Mary, his betrothed, who was with child. While they were there, the time came for her to have her child, and she gave birth to her firstborn son. She wrapped him in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.

Now there were shepherds in that region living in the fields and keeping the night watch over their flock. The angel of the Lord appeared to them and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were struck with great fear. The angel said to them, “Do not be afraid, for behold, I proclaim to you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. For today in the city of David a savior has been born for you who is Messiah and Lord. And this will be a sign for you: you will find an infant wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger.” And suddenly there was a multitude of the heavenly host with the angel, praising God and saying:

“Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.”

When the angels went away from them to heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let us go, then, to Bethlehem to see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us.” So they went in haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the infant lying in the manger. When they saw this, they made known the message that had been told them about this child. All who heard it were amazed by what had been told them by the shepherds. And Mary kept all these things, reflecting on them in her heart. Then the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, just as it had been told to them.

We, too, keep all these things, reflecting on them in our hearts, and give glory and praise to God for all we have seen and heard, just as it has been told to us.

Merry Christmas ♥

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