Keeping Father Dan's Memory Alive

So, yesterday was a sad but beautiful day. I had never seen the Church so full in my life. It was an incredible sight to see. I'd guess at least 800 people packed the space, not counting people who stood outside the doors to listen. Not just the number but the variety of people. Father Dan had been a part of several parishes over his years of ministry. Black, white, Asian, Middle Eastern, the very old to the very young. Priests, bishops, deacons, sisters. People who had grown up listening to Father preach on Sundays. People who had worked with him. People who had grown up with him. We gathered together to mourn his loss. But, more importantly, we gathered to celebrate a man who touched so many in so many ways. This was reflected in the music sang and the words spoken. Even after Mass, we gathered for lunch and shared more stories.

I didn't want to go up to the casket because I didn't want that image in my memory. I wanted to remember the man who always smiled and pulled you into a big hug when he saw you, even first meeting you. The man who's eyes lit up at the Christmas party when he played carols on his flute with the band. The man who talked and laughed at my sister's wedding and was bouncing with joy that he was able to make it and talked about it for months afterward.

But, it wasn't without issue. I won't go into specific but there were stories that were not so positive. And, it just made my family so upset. I know Father Dan wouldn't want people to act the way they did. It's not what he stood for. It's not the message he tried to convey and the fact that people never took that in is a disgrace to his memory.

Now, more than ever, is the time for the two communities he served most recently to come together. As one spirit, one mission to bring the love of Christ to the world. Not to turn people away. I said in my last post, Father accepted everyone. And, the people that gathered to honor him yesterday reflected that.

I know my dad and others will work to keep his memory alive there. And, I can only hope to follow his example in my own life. Only then will he be remembered always in the hearts of those who knew him.

"There's One More Angel In Heaven"

I don't know why I chose a lyric from Joseph's Technicolor Dreamcoat but I'm have a feeling he'd get a kick out of it because he had that kind of sense of humor.

I can't sleep. And, the best way for me to clear my head is to write. What better topic to write about than remembering a wonderful man, priest, and friend. Father Dan Begin. He was the pastor at my dad's church and I had the pleasure of getting to know him these past 2 years since my dad joined him as deacon. Never have I known anyone like him. And, I doubt I'll ever meet anyone that comes close in my life.

Father Dan was truly the embodiment of Christian faith and love. He always had a smile on his face and a waiting hug. He loved to laugh. He loved music. He loved family, enough to adopt children and raise them as his own and the grandchildren that followed. He loved his parishioners at the various churches he served in. And, he loved God. He had a tremendous faith that we can only dream to emulate. Even when he was ill, he talked about leaving it in God's hands and whatever happened would happen. He cherished every day he was remotely well. When he was able to attend my sister's wedding in October, he was practically giddy with excitement. The power of prayer bought him a few precious months before illness returned to finally claim his life on Saturday.

He welcomed everyone, regardless of background, race, orientation. You just felt good when you were around him. He'd tease and crack jokes at events. When he said Mass, there was a glow about him. When he played the flute or talked about his family, his eyes would light up and you couldn't help smile along with him.

I wish I had been able to know him better. But, I know he's at peace now. He's not suffering anymore.

I know that's a cliché thing to say. It's what everyone says when someone dies. Especially from illness like cancer. But, I've had a few family members with cancer. It's like they're being eaten alive from the inside out. Watching a loved one waste away is one of the hardest things in the world. And, as much as you want them to get better and be with you for many more years, you want just as much for it to stop and for them to know peace and be free of pain.

It could be that it's late and I'm sleepy. Or, it's that there really are no words to describe Father Dan beyond what I've already said. He will be missed so much and by so many. And, he will never be forgotten.

A Lost Light

Well, today is going to suck. I'm attending a funeral after work for a former coworker. 25 years old, super sweet young man. He was hard working. He always had a smile and a kind word for anyone he met.
I'm going to copy the Facebook post from his sister on the day he died and post it here before I say more:

Today has been the most devastating day of my life. Today my baby brother died. He was 25. He was a son, a brother, a nurse. He loved to laugh, he loved his patients and he loved his family. As great as he was, he fought with a demon inside of him and lost. That demon was addiction. It started many years ago with a back injury ... pills mostly. Then came the anxiety. Xanax and an alcohol chaser. We saw it coming like a freight train. After pleading with him to get help, he finally did. Rehab, for 28 days. We (his family) attended Nar-Anon meetings to help with our own struggles. On Tuesday he came home. He was changed. For the better perhaps, or just different. "Rehab was the best drug education I could have ever gotten." He joked. Little did we know he wasn't kidding. Today, 36 hours after leaving rehab, he died of a heroin overdose. He learned about heroin, in detail, in rehab. It isn't anyone's fault this happened but his own. I'm not angry. He has become just another a statistic.

I'm sharing this with you because my brother wasn't your typical "junkie". He was a good kid from a good home. He had a family that loved him and a good job. He had great, caring friends that tried to help him with his depression. He had hopes and dreams of a great future. All of that was taken by addiction. If you know of someone struggling with addiction, please find them help. Their life could depend on it. There are "signs". Don't pretend they aren't there or that your loved one will "get better" on their own. They cannot do it on their own. This is a disease. I cannot recommend Nar-Anon meetings highly enough. Find one if you are worried about a loved one. Go. They can and will help you. Tell your loved one you love them. The heroin on the streets today is mixed with all sorts of deadly crap. It kills. Please do not be ashamed. I was. I will not be anymore. Tim and others like him deserve to be able to stand tall and say "My name is Tim, I'm an addict .... and I need help." Please share this message. I have met some wonderful people during this process. Some have made it through .. some have not. I want others to know .... There is Hope.

To those friends and family that have supported us through this tough time, I cannot express my sincerest "Thank You's" enough. Once his final arraignments have been made, I will pass those along.

When I saw the news of this, I wanted to be physically sick. How could this happen to such a sweet guy? With so many evil people in the world, why do the good ones have to suffer like this? All the questions that one would ask during a time like this. It just goes to show how truly fragile life can be.

I think Melissa's post says it all so I'm not going to add much more. I'm going to start crying again if I do. I just wanted to share this with you and, if you or anyone you know is going through a problem with addiction, get help. It is possible. And, if you are blessed to have a healthy family, give them an extra hug tonight. Tim's parents shouldn't have to bury their child tonight. But, he will be remembered as a wonderful and rare light in a world full of darkness.