By Shane Kennett
If my mom, Kathy Jo Findley (1949-2022), saw a movie before I did, she would excitedly tell me every detail, including the end. In that same fashion, her life was like a movie that played out before me. Through her stage four cancer diagnosis, treatments, and death she silently “told” me about the goodness of the Catholic Faith and the incredible ending – the reality of eternal life with a loving God.
My mother grew up with no faith background. As a teenager, she frequently walked by the Cathedral of the Risen Christ as it was being built in Lincoln, and she would stop and sit on the retaining wall, desiring to be a part of what would one day take place inside. Intuitively she recognized the “pearl of great price” and sought it out. As a young woman, she became the only member of her family to join the Catholic Church.
The experience of walking with her along a treacherous cancer path felt like watching the most exquisite and fragrant rose slowly wither and die. At times it was ugly and gruesome. There were days when I wanted to yell, “Mom, I don’t want this for you!” During this challenging time, I bought myself a Bible, gave myself permission to write in it and started reading it every day.
“Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me.” Matthew 16:24
As we walked with our beloved rose on her journey, we were also accompanying Jesus in his Passion. My mom carried her cross with fortitude. Instead of turning away from it, I was being called to take up my cross and follow Jesus. I started to frequent confession more often. The graces flowing from that sacrament filled me with peace. My cross felt lighter.
When God breathes on anything, he redeems it, even the ugly and the gruesome. For every tear shed, multiple graces abounded through the Holy Eucharist. During my mother’s illness and even through her final days, my dad and I met at daily Mass. Afterwards he immediately brought her Holy Communion. The amount of consolation this gave us after her death was invaluable. He and I would (and still do) reflect on John 6:58: “This is the bread that came down from heaven, not like your ancestors ate, and they died. But the one who eats this bread will live forever.”
The Eucharist is our eternal lifeline.
We prayed for a miracle, that she would have complete healing. God answered our prayers in other ways. I have no doubt that the graces of the Eucharist gave my mother everything necessary to fulfill her mission. During her final week, she was so thin that monitoring her blood pressure required a child’s cuff. Pain and weakness had immobilized a once physically fit woman. At one point, I was stationed at the head of her bed and she stretched her arms straight out, like Jesus on the cross. As excruciating as it was to witness, I knew something powerful was happening.
“I am now rejoicing in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh, I am completing what is lacking in Christ’s afflictions for the sake of his body, that is the church.” Colossians 1:24
We were witnessing redemptive suffering in action. God transforms everything, even our suffering.
After receiving the Anointing of the Sick along with the Apostolic Blessing, my mother died, with her family gathered around her bed, in the arms of my father. During her funeral Mass, I felt close to my mother, remembering that the only thing separating heaven and earth is a thin veil. While receiving Holy Communion, my heart was buoyed recalling the promise of eternal life in Christ.
Witnessing the story of my mother’s life unfold was like looking through a spiritual magnifying glass at the tenderness of God’s mercy and unfailing compassion. The love of God the Father is personal. Jesus reaches out to each person individually. Our family experienced this in a profound way through the kiss of the Holy Spirit in the sacraments. The Catholic Faith is the ultimate gift of an authentic relationship with a good God who conquered sin and death. We are his children. Our citizenship is in heaven.
