November Days

I was 17 years old the day that my dad died from a sudden and massive heart attack.

All 36 students in my senior high school class came to the funeral home, as did many of the faculty members. The art teacher gave me the longest and strongest hug that I had ever received. Later I wondered if she had experienced a similar grievous loss.

The next morning as my mother, brother and I stood under a bright blue sky in front of the coffin at the cemetery, we were circled by my classmates. It was an astounding show of support, and the memory of it lingers with me 48 years later.

After the service, when I walked over to talk to my friends I was still wading through grief. They greeted me, and then excitedly told me that they were planning to go cruising that evening.

For the initiated, the term “cruising” in the 1960s meant teens driving around looking for fun.

Fun. That was the last thing on my mind that Friday morning. I was just trying to breathe. I was just trying to figure out a world that no longer included my father.

It was a harsh introduction to the concept that “life goes on.”

I have a dear friend who recently lost her husband of 50-plus years. Everyone they knew attended the funeral, and then everyone left. My friend was comforted by the show of support, but a little surprised to find herself on such a solitary path days after her beloved died.

Today the leaves are transforming into the most wonderful colors and filling up our sidewalks and yards. The air is crisp, and the sky is blue. It’s November.

This time of year always seems to be the time when we retreat into our houses and into our souls. After enjoying glorious summer and early fall days, it’s time for soup on the stove and socks on our feet. It’s time for trips to the library, craft projects and clearing out the gardens.

Every year, on the first days of this month, we remember our saints and our souls. We remember those who were taken from us too soon, and we remember those who were given rich long lives.

By the end of the month, we are swaddled in Advent. It’s our time to quietly and reverently prepare for the coming birth of our Savior.

At the beginning of Advent in 2013 Pope Francis reminded Catholics that “for the great human family it is necessary to renew always the common horizon toward which we are journeying. The horizon of hope! This is the horizon that makes a good journey.”

Advent brings us to a place of hope, he said, a place which doesn’t disappoint because “the Lord never disappoints! He is faithful!”

Advent reminds us in the kindest of ways, as we quietly wait, that Life goes on.