Autumn Leaves

Behold, I tell you a mystery: We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump: for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed. (1 Cor. 15:51)

November always makes me shiver and the autumn leaves this year around St. Ignatius seemed to remind me more than usual of things past and things gone forever. We commemorated All Souls on November 2 with a solemn requiem (Victoria's Missa pro Defunctis) and absolution at the catafalque (the so-called absolution at the catafalque, as Fr Weatherby always added). I was subdeacon, a role I had seldom played in requiems, and I got to sing the wonderful epistle from Corinthians about death and resurrection, which always makes me feel better in spite of how illogical it all seems.

After Alan McClare's tragic death (his solemn requiem will finally be on December 12) we had hoped that would be enough death for a season, but sadly we only had a couple of more weeks until Don McCall fell and cracked his head and died 10 days later. Somehow Don's death hit me very hard even though I could see it was perhaps the only rest the poor man would ever know in his ill-fated life. He had been around the church for over 20 years, having been baptised one Easter Vigil, an event that he always mentioned whenever he spoke to me, and I sensed that it was truly the most wonderful event of his life. He had so many physical and mental problems, but he was always cheerful, always had something funny to tell, and always forgave my temper tantrums that he sometimes evoked, such as the times when he felt the need to take home the bathroom soap, not realizing it left other people stranded. After I found out it was him and explained it to him, it never happened again. He had a bit of a drinking problem also, which made it often necessary to ask him to leave the soup kitchen, where he always helped out as best he could on Saturday afternoons, in spite of only having one semi-workable hand. He would sometimes get unruly in concerts, which he loved to attend, and last year had to be taken away in an ambulance after he fell over on his pew and couldn't be roused. But he always came back and we always welcomed him and several of us tried our best to help him. St. Ignatius was a stable environment that he felt safe in and the past year he had also been attending the City's outreach program run in our undercroft, The Other Place. He had been making a lot of progress in recent months and the last time I saw him he seemed like alot of healing had taken place. But sometime around Nov. 19 he fell and cracked open his head. He never regained consciousness and died on Nov. 29. Fr Blume and a few others from church went and last rites were given. He will be buried in the columbarium in a niche donated by the church. May his soul and those of all the faithful departed, rest in peace.