Happy Birthday!

I've been thinking of my dad a lot lately.  Probably because today he would have been 91 years old.  He dropped dead (literally) of a heart attack getting ready for bed, 11:20pm, February 25th, 1983.  Ten days after his 59th birthday.  BAM! Just like that. One moment sitting in the family room watching television with my friend Maryann and me, smoking a cigarette and drinking his nightly cup of coffee, the next moment (okay, 20 minutes later) falling to the floor in the bathroom most likely (and hopefully) leaving this world before hitting the linoleum.  There. Not there. No tearful good-byes, no "I love you's", no last last minute deathbed apologies for past trespasses.  Here.  Not here.  Nothing Hollywood-worthy or novel-worthy. Just...gone.  

It was shocking and sad and absolutely awful for all of us.  All but my dad and that makes it all okay in my mind.  It's how I would want to go; quickly with no more and hopefully less than a moment's pain or fear.  Feeling relatively good one moment and nothing the next.  No suffering, no doctors hovering, no tubes or hard decisions for my loved ones to have to make.  Just peace and quiet until Jesus comes to take me home.  Doesn't seem so bad when you look it that way, right?

See this way too, I get to remember my dad the way he was most of the time; alive, smiling, busting chops, bantering and playing with his grandchildren, losing his patience...ahem.  I look at it as a blessing.  I knew his heart wasn't well and he was suffering with chest pains more often than not and although I never would have thought it then, perhaps my hindsight has shown me that he probably wasn't going to grow to be an old man with my mom.  But what if he did?  Would he have gotten miraculously healthy and lived that long life happily and pain free?  Probably not.  So yes, it was a blessing.

My father-in-law died a slow and painful death.  Painful for him and painful for my husband and his family.  I remember my mother-in-law saying angrily, "I'm so angry at myself for begging God to let me keep him with me!!  I should have been praying that God take him and end his pain but I was selfish and didn't want him to go."  I felt so terrible for her that she was carrying this guilt around years after he had passed.  What she asked God for is absolutely what I would have asked God for if it had been my husband, father, brother or anyone I loved!  And anyone who has prayed that prayer has probably experienced the same guilt as my mother-in-law.  

So although I'm obviously not glad my father passed away when I was still in high school and hadn't come to the realization of how much I needed him in my life to advise and guide, I'm glad he was taken as quickly as he was.  I'm not sorry I didn't get to say good-bye or "I'm sorry" (I was a teenager after all so clearly an apology would have been necessary for something!) because I believe with all my heart, and have from the moment of his passing, that I could talk to him anytime I liked!  No, he couldn't say "I love you too" or "I forgive you", but I know he would have and that's enough for me.  It really is.

James Francis Cassidy, born February 15, 1924 was a loving man filled with quiet humor and subdued affection.  He could instill fear when he yelled (even in my older brothers) and calm when he quietly comforted.  He was impatient and quick to anger (a trait I thankfully didn't get...right?!) but when I think of him now, almost 32 years after his untimely death, I am filled with love and gratitude that God found both of us worthy enough to belong to each other as father and daughter even if for only a short time.

I love you still, Daddy, and will always.  Happy birthday in Heaven!

~ Eileen Cassidy Bishop

Rollin', Rollin', Rollin' on a....

I've been called many things in my day; bitch (admittedly), stubborn (guilty as charged), intolerant (I'm getting better), gossip-monger (sometimes, unfortunately), holy roller --- now just hang on a minute!!  I am NOT a holy roller!  Am I a practicing Catholic?  Yes. Do I teach CCD and Childrens' Liturgy on Sundays? Yes. Do I witness where and when I can about my Faith? Yes, but probably not as often as I should or could.  Hmmm...maybe I am a holy roller!  Nope, I'm sticking to my guns on this one; NOT a holy roller.

Actually, anyone who knows me, I think, would agree with my personal assessment...unless, of course, they're trying to get under my skin.  Fortunately for me, I don't have any friends like that.  Smirk.  

You see to me, a holy roller is an in-your-face, steam-rolling, often obnoxious witness to Christ and His church (whichever sect).  I don't want to work that hard.  If I get a vibe that bringing up my faith will not bring the conversation to a screeching halt, I may do just that.  But I may not.  I think, like politics, religion and faith are to be discussed at the 20,000 foot level; cocktail party chat to get to know your fellow invitees.  It's just safer that way.

That's not to say I haven't had some pretty heavy conversations and sometimes debates with family or friends because I absolutely have.  Or talks with those close to me who share my feelings and beliefs.  That's what helps feed us spiritually.  Hearing what people don't agree with or understand is, to me, just as important as what they do agree and understand.  Not to mention a better understanding of what their doctrines are.  But I tread lightly.  I wish everyone did too.

I was listening to a conversation over the summer about someone's Catholic church and the church's policy that if you don't go to church (read make your offering) weekly, your child is unable to attend CCD.  My church has that policy as well but this particular church, according to this mom, took it a step further and gave an actual monetary minimum.  I was kind of surprised but what do I know, right?  When I commented about how, without the weekly tithing they might not be able to even hold CCD classes, I was verbally attacked by another mom who is usually pretty mild-mannered with "DON'T PREACH TO ME ABOUT THE CATHOLIC CHURCH!!! I WAS RAISED A CATHOLIC AND THEY'RE ALL ABOUT THE MONEY! NO OTHER CHRISTIAN CHURCH WOULD DISALLOW A CHILD FROM CCD!"  Needless to say, I suddenly had a really important call to make and disengaged myself from the conversation!  Clearly there was some history there that I had no intention or desire to learn about.

Look, here's my point (which I knew would come to me eventually).  If you go to church every week, every day, or Christmas if you can fit it in, that's none of my business.  Who am I to say, "that's fine" or "that's not enough" or whatEVER?  Just like I don't want you to tell me how awful and rotten and political my religion is, or how priests are pigs and pedophiles because they can't get married (that was actually one of my favorite comments), I will respect your choices, actions, and beliefs.  Do I agree with or like everything my religion mandates?  No (sorry Mom).  I like a lot about your religion but disagree with probably just as much.  It's what makes the world go 'round!  But let's keep it friendly; I'm having a good time at Life's cocktail party and don't want to have to walk out pissed off...or worse yet, get thrown out for pissing someone else off!

~Eileen Cassidy Bishop

Is This As Good As It Gets?

Well this has been, to say the least, quite a Lenten/Easter Season for the Bishop family!  It's been a season of awakenings, questions, doubts, concerns, and fear; most centering on and for my 10 year old son, Leo.  For those of you that don't know us well, my husband Gene and I are devout Catholics, whereas, we have a firm, strong, deep belief in the teachings of Christ and His Catholic Church.  We talk a lot about Jesus with the kids.  We ask "What would Jesus do?" and "Do you think that's something that Jesus would want you to do/say?"  His name is not wielded like a weapon but as a wonderful teaching tool.  What better example of love than He?  Yes, sometimes when you're tired or achy, a Sunday Mass of kneeling and standing, standing and kneeling can be torturous.  Our response to their laments is usually, "One hour.  One hour to give to Jesus after all he gave to us.  It's all He asks for.  Doesn't really compare to dying on a cross, does it?"  Some may think that's a harsh thing to say to an eight or 10 year old, and they are welcome to their opinion, but we, as their parents, think that at a young age, children need to realize exactly what He, His mother, and His father gave up for us.

So our Leo has been reeling for the past two weeks riddled with utter confusion on what happens after we die (very typical, by the way, for his age).  It's been pretty hard around here come evening prime time.  Just as Leo is winding down, his crazy bright mind starts churning and fears of total blankness quickly overtake him and he's literally sick with fear and doubt.

The first time this happened, about two weeks ago, it was pretty scary for me.  He had gotten so upset that he was gagging over the toilet.  Between gasps, he asked randomly, or so I thought, "Are they absolutely SURE we come from monkeys?!"  Homina homina homina....so that's where this is coming from!  So I begin my bumbling explanation using words like "paleontologist" and "similar" and "likeness" and "no proof" and and and...after a few minutes of this I simply asked, "What do we believe?"  He replied, "Adam and Eve were the first people on Earth and that man is from dust and from dust we'll return."  Whew! "Right!" ......"But how do we really know there's a heaven?!"  Ugh.

There's the rub.  We don't know, do we?  At least not as far as science is concerned.  Stephen Hawking will tell you that the concept of heaven is made up by people afraid of the dark.  He feels we are computers and when our "CPU's" stop functioning, we simply turn off. Period. Black. End of consciousness.  Holy hard drive, Batman, that makes me really really sad!!!  Not that I believe his theory, but that he does.  He's basically saying that for overcoming his amazingly debilitating physical issues, for obtaining umpteen degrees and awards for his great mind and spirit, his reward for bearing who knows what in his personal battles, is nothing.  Darkness.  His beautiful mind will simply cease.  Again, it makes me terribly sad for him.  However, he has to be allowed his theory and his opinion just like with any other subject.  But I will say, just as we don't know there's a heaven, he doesn't know there isn't, does he?

But back to my dilemma!  So the next day, after getting him calm enough to fall asleep, Leo awoke completely fine.  "You okay?" "I'm cool." Hmmm....okay!  Three nights later, here we go again! A good two hours of basic 10 year old freak out.  So after talking to friends, I read Heaven is For Real by Todd Burpo.  It's a great book written about an almost four year old boy named Colton and his near death experience in heaven.  I tell Leo and Cathy about it, paraphrasing and reading text from the book.  They're bug-eyed and curious..."can we call Colton?  I'd really like to talk to him."  It went really well!  Leo kissed me good-night, told me he loved me and that he wasn't afraid anymore.  Yeh!!  Wow! All my problems should be this easy to solve, right?!  Yeah, two nights later...

So long story longer, I think it's just a matter of letting him eventually come to terms with it himself.  He's watched a couple of interviews with Colton, he's spoken to our Parish priest, his parents have droned on and on; now it's time for him to  process and deal with it his own way.  If that means spooning with him until he's asleep or reassuring him with our own faith or simply trying to redirect him with "happier thoughts", that's what we'll do.  Hey, the way I look at it, I had a good couple days thinking parenting was a breeze!! I'll bet that's a rarity in itself!

*Just as a side note, I didn't write this piece to start a debate on religion v. science.  Like all my other blog entries, I simply wanted to share my experience and what I got out of it.  However, comments and opinions are ALWAYS welcome, but please remember...be nice! :)  ...oh, and advice is even MORE welcome!