Dad and Easter
Growing up Irish Catholic in Buffalo/Western New York, Easter has always been an important and family oriented time of the year for me, but the joy of the season as taught by Catholics has taken a bit of detour in the Hosey family, while intensifying my own spiritual quest.
My father, Edward W. Hosey, died April 15, 2004, of a massive coronary episode one day after suffering stroke; he was 75. The U.S. Army veteran of the Korean War was, along with his father, William, the most decent, gentle and giving man I ever knew; nothing meant more to him than his family. He was also very active at Our Lady of the Blessed Sacrament Church in Depew, and Easter time meant that he was the narrator of the Holy Thursday play/presentation during Mass and of the Passion Play Good Friday, which he did for about 30 years.
I have been a lapsed/all-but former Catholic for years for reasons better discussed in a later entry; my spiritual beliefs now blend some Catholicism, Eastern religions and philosophies and some Protestantism. But the worst effects of my father's death on those of us here, which are still very strong and painful, are obviously felt by my mother, Sheila, who also came from Irish Catholic stock (she is a Connelly) and attended Catholic schools throughout her education. But the cruel reality becomes worse with Dad's death during what is supposed to be a solemn, then joyous, season. Mom is as strong as she can be, but they were inseparable during their almost 47 years of marriage, and they were supposed to be enjoying retirement together and looking forward to their 50th anniversary next year.
Having lost my "older" brother, Brian, at age 37 in 1995, and seeing Val's father, Edward Patrick Dunne, die about three years ago and her last grandparent, Gertrude Wagener, die about 2 1/2 years, I have gotten more used to the occurrence of death, if not actually gotten used to death. While I try to adjust to and make sense of these events, I have to believe in a final resurrection and reunion, at least for my mother with my father, even if some of the theology and philosophy don't agree with what I believe in for myself. If it makes mom's days any easier or better understood, it will be worth it.
My father, Edward W. Hosey, died April 15, 2004, of a massive coronary episode one day after suffering stroke; he was 75. The U.S. Army veteran of the Korean War was, along with his father, William, the most decent, gentle and giving man I ever knew; nothing meant more to him than his family. He was also very active at Our Lady of the Blessed Sacrament Church in Depew, and Easter time meant that he was the narrator of the Holy Thursday play/presentation during Mass and of the Passion Play Good Friday, which he did for about 30 years.
I have been a lapsed/all-but former Catholic for years for reasons better discussed in a later entry; my spiritual beliefs now blend some Catholicism, Eastern religions and philosophies and some Protestantism. But the worst effects of my father's death on those of us here, which are still very strong and painful, are obviously felt by my mother, Sheila, who also came from Irish Catholic stock (she is a Connelly) and attended Catholic schools throughout her education. But the cruel reality becomes worse with Dad's death during what is supposed to be a solemn, then joyous, season. Mom is as strong as she can be, but they were inseparable during their almost 47 years of marriage, and they were supposed to be enjoying retirement together and looking forward to their 50th anniversary next year.
Having lost my "older" brother, Brian, at age 37 in 1995, and seeing Val's father, Edward Patrick Dunne, die about three years ago and her last grandparent, Gertrude Wagener, die about 2 1/2 years, I have gotten more used to the occurrence of death, if not actually gotten used to death. While I try to adjust to and make sense of these events, I have to believe in a final resurrection and reunion, at least for my mother with my father, even if some of the theology and philosophy don't agree with what I believe in for myself. If it makes mom's days any easier or better understood, it will be worth it.
posted by val at 10:38 PM
2 Comments:
Kevin - what a nice tribute to your father. I lost mine 36 years ago when I was twelve and I still miss him.
You have my condolences and understanding; I worry that I was never fully able to let him know how much he meant and means to me. I can't imagine how tough it must have been going through your teens without your father. And thanks for your kind words.
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