Candles

All over Sicily, we lit candles for Daddy.

In Erice:




In Siracusa: (Santuario Madonna delle Lacrime)

In Modica:



..and some other places. 

Not as many as they would have liked. Partly because in most of the churches we were able to get into, you had to bring your own candle, and there were none for purchase nearby. We did light candles in a church in Barcelona after purchasing them at the front, but I didn't take photos. There were also a lot of electric vigil lights which we never lit, not on principle, but because I either didn't have change or we couldn't figure out how they worked.

But anyway, we lit candles. And they wanted to. Every church we went into, they wanted to light candles.

It was Michael who taught them and formed them in the practice, in the midst of all of our travels. They always lit candles for someone with Daddy, and he always had them pray - for my mother, for the intentions of some living person. It was never sentimental or overwrought, and if you knew Michael, you would know this. It was matter-of-fact and purposeful and, as a consequence, I think, very expressive of the faith at the heart of it. This is just true: Jesus Christ loves and redeems us, and through him we live, and to him we bring our hearts and souls, pains and joys. We tell him about it, we ask him for help, we ask his friends for help and we do this with words, with sighs, with cries, with music, with art...

and with candles.

A little child might not be able to articulate what he feels now that Daddy is gone from his earthly life. He might not be able to process what is inside and make a conscious decision, "Well, I am feeling this loss and these questions, so now I will say a prayer."

But in response to whatever is inside, entering into a place in which he is surrounded by signs and hints of what he learned, without fanfare or drama from his Daddy, speaks most strongly of lasting love, he can sense the pull to the light.

And with a little help, after letting his offering clatter into the metal or clink in the dish, after feeling the heat from a taper that got a little closer to his skin than he expected, he can respond to that pull, that nudge from past and present, and he can do it.

He can light the candle, and even if just for a moment, he can watch it. The light.



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