Thank you for the prayers, emails and well wishes. We laid my aunt, Sister Janice Buettner, to rest on Thursday among her sisters in the cemetery at the Queen of the Rosary Convent in Amityville. There are so many thoughts whirling through my head from the wake, funeral and luncheon afterwards that I could write for days. But I will share with you two surreal moments from the trip.
Her wake and funeral were held at the Dominican mother house, the Queen of the Rosary Convent in Amityville, New York, a complex of building on lush lawns amidst a suburban Long Island neighborhood that vaguely resembles a college campus in looks and feel. St. Albert Chapel is a modern chapel in the main building, and the wake was held there as well as the funeral. I knew many of the sisters gathered there; some were former professors from my college days. My brother actually spotted his high school German teacher among the gathered nuns and ran over to see her. He joked with the Sister Mary Hughes before walking over to greet his old teacher, "Sister was a tough teacher; I hope she doesn't quiz me on my German." Sister Mary just smiled at him and said, "Oh, she's kind as well as tough, so I'm betting she won't."
The surreal moments were this: I was chatting with some of the sisters, and one of them pulled my sweater sleeve lower so I could hear her from her wheelchair. She was very elderly and she had known me when I was a little girl, but I couldn't place her. She said to me, "We love your blog; we like to read it. Can you write more Pierre stories?" A bunch of nuns chimed in - "Yes, write more Pierre stories!" I think I turned about six shades of red, but it made my heart glad to learn that so many people were reading this little blog. So yes, ladies, I will write more Pierre stories.
The other surreal moment was when we gathered at the wake, and the sisters asked everyone to share memories of Sister Janice. We have had many Sisters of St. Dominic in the family, and among them was Mother Hillaria, who is like a legend among the nuns. I've heard all sorts of family stories about this tiny powerhouse who advocated for orphans in the Brooklyn courts in the 1800's. What I did not know was this: one nun stood and told the story of Mother Hillaria, Sister Janice's great-aunt.
She said, "Mother used to go frequently to the Brooklyn Courthouse to advocate for her orphans. She noticed a young man named George there tending the gardens and sweeping the floors, and she liked his diligence, his thoughtfulness and his demeanor. She had a niece named Barbara and the thought, 'George would make a perfect match for Barbara.' So she played matchmaker and introduced the two; they married."
George and Barabra were my great-grandparents.
So if it wasn't for the Amityville Dominican congregation and the feisty Mother Hillaria - I wouldn't be here today, because my great grandparents would never have met!
There are so many ties linking my life to the Amityville Dominicans....so many things came into focus for me as I walked around the convent, prayed with the nuns, visited with them. I cannot write them all down nor do I think I should. I will only say that laying Aunt Lucille to rest among her sisters felt like the closing of a large chapter of history - my history, but also the history of the dozens and dozens of people who came to pay their respects to her. Her colleagues from Molloy College, where she taught and lived for many years, lined up in academic attire as an honor guard for her; the chaplains from the college, past and present, came to prayer for her; members of the charismatic prayer groups came to tell her they loved her; her nieces, nephews, great nieces and nephews, and one little tiny great-great niece came to bid her goodbye. For this humble nun, it was a fitting tribute to a life lived in the Holy Spirit, a life of gentle love for all she knew. I will miss her. But as we walked in procession from the chapel to the sisters cemetery, an old bronze bell tolling, and we reached her grave, the nuns began singing, "For all the saints." And I thought to myself, "Yes - for all the saints." And I really do hope and trust that she is among their company now. After 75 years of dedication to her vows, this gentle, kind soul who was always there for all of us, can pray for us now with unceasing love before the throne of God.
The song begins with the line, "For all the saints/who from their labors rest."
Yes indeed.
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| Happier times at Aunt Lucille's diamond Jubilee. |
1 comments:
What a wonderful family with the Sisters. So nice that they want more Pierre stories. Who knew Sisters were reading blogs. I like how you great grandparents met as well. Enjoy being home!
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