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.

Greetings, friends. I’ve been out and about for the last few days. I was able to make it home for my dear Sister Annunciata’s funeral and burial. Celebrating the Resurrection Liturgy for a Sister is one of the most amazing things — again and again I am reminded by my nuns that though we grieve we celebrate the life of our Sister and her new life in the Presence of God. I miss Nuncie quite a bit. It was great to hear stories about her from the old days all the way up to her last moments.There were some pretty amazing moments while I was home … here are a few of them.

• Outside the closed door of Nuncie’s room is a table with a flower and notebook. Inside the notebook nuns, nurses, staff, and others leave notes addressed to Nuncie about what she meant to them. We do this for all of our sisters.

• We have the wake for our Sisters at the Motherhouse in our chapel. Often sisters will sit vigil with the body at different times during the night and day. I arrived too late for the formal wake, and wanted to be sure to spend some time alone with Annunciata. Early in the morning I walked over to the Motherhouse and into the dark chapel. No one was there. In the back of the chapel was the casket, and on either side of the casket were two beautiful lamps yielding a pink glow. Nuncie wore the blue suit from her Jubilee celebration. I pulled a chair over and just sat vigil with her and talked with her. I pray that she watch over me and the congregation.
• Following the funeral, we got in our cars and headed out the back part of our campus to our cemetary. As we went, we passed by our IHM organic farm. There was a young man working in the field. When he saw the procession, he stood, immediately took off his hat and held it at his chest until well after we had passed by.
• A Sister recounted a story from after Annunciata had died. She had said a prayer to Nuncie and asked her for a sign that everything was okay. Within seconds the bell for the Angelus began ringing — the Angelus is a Catholic prayer about the Annunciation, Nuncie’s namesake. The Annunciation is the story of the angel of God announcing to Mary that she would bear the Son of God.

When I returned home, I happened upon this article about another person’s experience at the funeral of a beloved nun. Be sure to check it out.

Thank God for Sister Matthew and Those Like Her
by Eddie McGuire for the Australian newspaper Herald Sun (July 13, 2008)