All Souls Day took on new meaning this year with the death of my dad. The church had a Mass dedicated specifically for those who died this past year. I brought a couple photos of my dad to the church. Mom picked out the one with him wearing his military uniform. One photo was fastened on a banner that will be displayed in the church for the month of November. The other was placed on a table in the reception area. My mom and I attended the Mass. As soon as the Litany of the Saints started, I teared up. I was brought right back to Dad’s funeral Mass. The readings and music were all very familiar. The priest reiterated the importance of praying for those who have died to hurry their souls to be with God. After Mass we went to the reception. When we walked in the room I was again whisked back in time. There was Dad’s picture beneath the huge crucifix, just as he was laid beneath the cross prior to the funeral Mass. We sat with a woman I met at the grief support group and her mother who was recently diagnosed with Parkinson’s. We had quite a bit in common and my mom enjoyed meeting them. We also heard stories about others who had died. That helped me realize that there are many people who have lost people they love and there is indeed support and healing with and through others. When I think of my dad now, I think of him with his family. And a Hospice nurse gave us the image of him preparing a home for my mom and the rest of the family. That is exactly what he would be doing.

I Found God today praying for my dad.