Ordinarily, today's post would be a Potluck Wednesday post. I began writing those when I realized that our fairly new commitment to weekly choir practice on Wednesday nights would make writing a regular blog post extremely difficult.
Being members of the choir has been a wonderful thing for our family, especially the girls. They've enjoyed our director's sense of humor and silly expressions, his exuberant love for music and willingness to explain words like "arpeggio" to them, his enthusiasm for his favorite composer's liturgical works (Johann Sebastian Bach), and his frequent reminders for them to "resonate."
But today, we won't be going to choir practice. No one will. Late yesterday, we received word that our beloved director had suddenly and unexpectedly died sometime during the night on Monday.
He was the sort of person who will be terribly missed by everyone who had the joy of knowing him. His dedicated service to the church for so many years has made him well-known and appreciated in the parish, and his shoes will be very difficult for anyone to fill.
One of the last songs we sang under his direction was the one whose words I copied in this post. Though we were originally going to sing it on All Saints' Day, there wasn't time at that Mass, and so we sang it instead on Friday night at a special Mass to pray for the souls of those parishioners who had died in the past year. As I read over the beautiful words once more I am reminded of the strong and sincere hope of eternal life that permeates our lives as Catholics.
Please join me today in praying for the repose of our director's soul, for peace and comfort for his wife and other family members, and for all of us who mourn the loss of this devout and dedicated man.
Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord; and let perpetual light shine upon him. May he rest in peace. Amen.