It’s not easy writing a blog post when your heart is heavy. This morning I woke to find out that two of my dear IHM Sisters died. One sister I’ve known since I entered the community. She lived at the Motherhouse in Monroe and always made sure to keep an eye out for new members to make sure they were doing okay. She used to play cards with me and other nuns, and took great pride in letting others know that she was teaching the young sisters Spite and Malice! The other sister was the sibling of a nun that I lived with while I was in formation. I rarely saw her without her smiling or laughing or having a twinkle of mischief in her eye!

As I think about and pray for my sisters, I am reminded of my first experience ever of dealing with the death of a Catholic sister. When I lived in Toronto with the Loretto Sisters (IBVM), a sister from the house I lived at died. Sister Emma was a fireball, a woman in love with life and with God. She was a singer, and tried to get my friend Michelle and I to sing but there was little hope for either of us! Her death was a shock to all of us, and it broke all of our hearts. I learned so much from the sisters of that house of how to care for one another, how to celebrate and to mourn Emma’s death, and how to place one’s sorrow and one’s trust in God.

Sister Emma’s wake was held in our house — it was a big convent, but still felt a little weird to me because I’d never lived in a house where a wake was held. When the funeral home brought the body to the house, the sisters welcomed the body at the door and prayed as the casket was brought in. The sisters sat vigil with the body, sometimes praying and crying quietly, other times chatting about wonderful Emma stories! The lay women of the house (we were mostly grad students boarding with the sisters while we worked on our degrees) were welcomed into this holy mourning and celebrating. We too sat vigil, we served at the funeral Mass, we buried our sister, and we celebrated as Emma would have wanted us to.

The experience of knowing Sister Emma and of journeying with the Loretto Sisters through her death touched me deeply. It was probably one of the most formative experiences of my life. It taught me the meaning of sisterhood, and it illustrated for me — in full color — what it means to give one’s life, and one’s death, totally to God.

Please pray for my IHM Sisters Alice and Bea who are “dwelling now in light yet ever near”… and  for my Sister Marie, Alice’s sibling, and all of those who loved these women and were touched by them.

Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord,
and let perpetual light shine upon them.
May the souls of the faithful departed,
through the mercy of God, rest in peace.
Amen.

Here is a picture I’ve been searching for of my Nuncie, Sister Annunciata Grix, IHM.

A Remembering Card with the info below is made for each sister who dies.

Began

Life
August 16, 1908

Christian Life
August 23, 1908

Religious Life
January 2, 1930

Fullness of Life
July 9, 2008

“In the evening of life we shall be judged on LOVE.
~ Saint John of the Cross

Some of you have begun sharing about the “Nuncies” in your life — people who mentor you, encourage you, and embrace you for who you are. Write in the comments below about who your “Nuncie” has been.

Today is the wake of Sister Anne E. Carr, a Sister of the Blessed Virgin Mary and well-known theologian who died a few days ago.

My prayers and sympathy go out to the BVM Sisters, one of whom is a colleague of mine at Loyola Press.

I only knew Anne through her writings — she was a wonderful theologian and wrote on my favorite theologian Karl Rahner and on Thomas Merton. She was Professor Emerita of Theology at the Divinity School of the University of Chicago. Here’s her bio:

Anne Carr works in contemporary theology, both Protestant and Roman Catholic, liberation theologies, and feminist thought and theology. She teaches courses on the mystery of evil and theological anthropology, and her current research centers on the doctrine of providence. Her publications include The Theological Method of Karl Rahner; Transforming Grace; and Thomas Merton’s Theology of the Self. She is co-editor of several numbers of Concilium centered on women’s issues, is an associate editor of Horizons, and a consulting editor for Theology and Philosophy and Listening. (source)

In my last post “Can you become a Nun if you have a chronic illness?” I received some good feedback from Lisa about the different ways that chronic illness can be understood. Lisa also suggested that I balance out the post by writing about the fact that “if people become ill once in community, particularly post perpetual profession, the community stands with them and does not ask them to leave.”

When a person is fully a member of a religious community, the community is with her 100%. Should she become physically or mentally ill or whatever, the community takes care of her and does not abandon her. She is still a vital member of the community even though she may have to find new ways of expressing this.

Let me give you an example of a sister who was cared for by the community and who, down to her last breath (unable to communicate well or get out of bed), was a vital member of the community. I remember a day when one of my dear IHM sisters was sick and dying. Normally when a sister is dying, there are always sisters sitting vigil with her. Our nuns make sure someone is always in the room or nearby so the sister is not alone. So this one day I went in to see my dear sister Mary Ann. The sister with her graciously left so we’d have some time alone together. I went to her bed and just held her hand and talked to her. She was not really awake and I wasn’t sure if she knew I was there. She didn’t open her eyes or make any response. I wanted to be strong for her as she had always been for me, but I just couldn’t muster up any strength. So I started praying the Hail Mary aloud. Amazingly Mary Ann, in a barely audible voice, said a few of the phrases of the Hail Mary. At that moment I knew that of course she knew I was there and with what little breath and energy she had, she consoled me — she was still being there for me, comforting me like she always did when things were tough. I stayed with Mary Ann a while longer, just sitting in vigil with her. It was one of the most grace-filled moments of my life. Mary Ann died not long afterwards.

The community takes care of one another in sickness and in health. We stand with one another, not always perfectly, but with great love, care and affection. Even when a sister is dying, she can be a source of life and energy and love for all those around her, the sisters, the housekeeping staff, the family members, the health care staff. Everyone. Although being sick or having a serious chronic illness isn’t the same thing as dying, the way we care for one another is the same. It isn’t always pretty being sick, but it is a true blessing to have sisters who care so deeply and would move mountains for you.