Instead, I read this terribly sad post from Alisha de Freitas, who wrote this about spending time with her sister recently:
We made our way into my church a couple of minutes after noon. We headed down front. This was a special All Souls Mass, two weeks after it was supposed to be held, postponed due to Hurricane Sandy. All total, there was five of us in attendance. My pastor, Father Ros, asked us each to do a reading. We both said yes. As he stepped away to begin mass, she studied her assigned passage earnestly.Alisha's sister Joscelyne died suddenly in her sleep just a couple of days after attending that service with Alisha.
"So how do you like that? Your first time here and he's got you working! Don't worry, we follow everything on the paper, and it's very similar in order to Catholic masses," I said quietly.
When her time came, she walked up the stairs and stopped and did a quick genuflect at the Communion table. I smiled. Fast learner. She read from Psalm 130:
Towards the end of the service, Father Ros read through the pages long list of the Faithful Departed. Name after name after name.
- Out of the depths have I called to you, O LORD; LORD, hear my voice; let your ears consider well the voice of my supplication.
- If you, LORD, were to note what is done amiss, O Lord, who could stand?
- For there is forgiveness with you; therefore you shall be feared.
I wait for the LORD; my soul waits for him; in his word is my hope.
I looked up at him, wearing purple vestments, the one I saw all through Lent. Purple is solemn. Purple is royal. Purple is my favorite color.
I looked over at Jos. She was holding Zoe and frowning. The names were many.
"It's sad," I whispered to her.
Please hold Alisha and her family, especially Joscelyn's husband and two children, close to your hearts this week in prayer.
Eternal rest grant unto your servant Joscelyne, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon her. May her soul and all the souls of the faithful departed rest in peace.