Today we wanted to share a personal story with you.

For all of the years Michael and I have gone to our parish, we have always just pew-hopped.  Even as our family grew, there was never one spot where we always sat. Not even a side of the church.  But in recent months, it somehow just happened. We all filed into a pew, in a particular spot one day, and it just ‘felt right’.  We’ve sat right there every week for Sunday mass, ever since.

The spot happened to be right behind ‘Mr. Bill’, as we’ve come to call him.  Mr. Bill is the absolute sweetest old man, you could ever want to meet. And dapper as they come.  Every Sunday morning, at the last mass of the day, he has shown up, looking his personal best.  Well groomed, in a suit, and sporting a charming bow tie. He drives himself there, and most everywhere else. That is impressive, (if not a little worrisome), at the age of 96 years old.  NINETY SIX!   A veteran of World War II.

He may be the reason we have been drawn back to that spot each week.  When he is there first, we sit right behind him.  If he comes in after wards, he sits right in front of us. He always greets us and the children so sincerely. He’s the picture of what we hope to be in our elder years.  Kind, compassionate, and very obviously deeply faithful and loyal to the Lord.  We can often hear him mumbling all parts of the mass, including the priest’s parts.  He is immersed completely in such a humbling way, I often can’t help but just watch him.  And I’ve done so without having taking advantage of a moment; always wondering what week we will come in, and he won’t be there in that pew in front of us. Not that week, or ever again. I think all of us have have thought about that time, that is inevitable.  And the sadness was so deep already, just at the thought of him not being there.  His presence of being right in front of us, week in and week out, is as expected as the pew itself.

Wouldn’t you know…..I was sure I noticed he was slowing down over the weeks.  He was slower, and seemed to be more out of breath.  With each passing week, it was apparent he was indeed having health issues. One week, in noticing the kids were holding rosary beads, he said to one of them, “Say one of those for me.”  I felt the tears immediately spring to my eyes as he said those words. Knowing he was quietly suffering.  Struggling.  But never complaining.  The kids did pray for him too….we all have many times.  He is spoken fondly of among us as a family, often because he was brought up by the kids, who he has clearly had an impact on as well.  We just adore him.

In the next week or so, he started showing up with an oxygen tank.  If you only saw the effort he went through to make it to that pew, for mass. As if he NEEDED to come, to hear the gospel. To witness the consecration.  To receive the Body and Blood of Christ.

Then the week came when he wasn’t there.  Nor the next week. We learned he had fallen quite ill, as we suspected was happening in weeks prior.  This past Sunday, we learned he was in a rehab care facility just out of town. And that he also had no one to really advocate for him in any way.  Another kind parishioner we’ve come to know and love, filled us in on his state of health, which had not been good when she last went to see him a few days prior. He was lonely, we heard, and wanted to just go home.

Naturally today, on this Veteran’s Day, we thought of all veterans who have served our country – in peace or war. Those who lived to tell their stories, and those who didn’t.  Those we know, or knew, and those we don’t.  The little ones learned just what Veteran’s Day was all about, and why we remember and pay tribute to these men and women on this day.  And we talked about Mr. Bill, who had been on our minds more than ever, all weekend.  We decided we wanted to do something about it.

The kids all made him a special card of their own, with a special message. They really put their hearts into their work; planning it all out, and trying to do their best.  For Mr. Bill.

Michael decided he was going to see Mr. Bill today at the rehab center, to sit and have a nice long visit with him, and deliver these cards from the kids.

Michael did just that.  As it turned out, Mr. Bill was being discharged today.  He was doing better!  Well enough to go home at least.  He was all packed and ready to go when Michael got there – just waiting for his ride.  So they sat and chatted for a good while.  Two women were driving him home, and Michael decided to follow them and help get Mr. Bill into his house safely, and be sure he was all settled.

When Michael got home, he was full of the stories and tidbits Mr. Bill had shared with him. Interestingly enough, the branch of service Mr. Bill is a veteran of is the Air Force.

He was also very happy to be home, and said someone was planning to pick him up and bring him to mass this Sunday, and that he looked forward to seeing us there.  We sure look forward to seeing him there, too!  To see him back in that pew, will be a blessing each and every time more, that he is. To see him smile, to shake his warm, unbelievably soft-skinned hand at peace time, and to see him so prayerfully celebrate the mass with every bit of his amazing and inspiring faith.

So Happy Veteran’s Day, Mr. Bill.  Thank you, and all veterans, for your service to our country.

And thank YOU, for stopping by again.  Lots of exciting blog plans coming up, so please come again soon!