The text came in early this morning, "They think he's developed pneumonia. White blood cell counts are up and organs don't look good. We could lose him today."
This was my friend and MC at one of the missions, a man I'd worshiped with at the Altar, Sunday by Sunday, for the past thirteen years. An outstanding athlete in his day, he's now on a ventilator.
So I dropped everything and drove to an ICU in Waco to administer the sacrament of Extreme Unction, and offer the prayers of the Church. “Go forth, Christian soul..." and if it's God's will, return to health. I'll be honest, everyone's praying for a miracle and I''m asking you to do so too.
He was and is a good man. Nothing remotely fake about him, he called his shots as he saw them and if he didn't suffer fools gladly was always good to me, sometimes in a tough way.
For example, a few years back I was laid up in bed with a broken hip, thanks to a mad Arab, and I called my friend on Saturday morning, "Hey, have you got a priest to cover the Mass tomorrow?" A short pause, "No, I haven't." I thought for a moment, mind like a steel trap, "Why not?" A shorter pause, "Because you're doing it."
Not wanting to seem like a pathetic soy of a wimp I rolled up to the Altar the next day on a walker and said Mass, MC at my side. One his daughters took a photo and produced a meme, when an old cowboy bullies his priest into saying Mass with a broken leg. Ha. But hey, he was right, got me moving.
I say again, please pray for a miracle and in the absence of a sign, for the angels to escort this good soul to paradise.
LSP
