Goodbye, Pope John Paul II, may you return to your rubust-ity

Although I don't recall when Pope John Paul II was elected, I do remember the beginning, when his predecessor died. I was a good girl of 7 years old, born a Catholic, raised a Catholic, and in Catholic school. I remember hearing that Pope John Paul I had died and I ran outside by the rose bush, threw myself down on my knees, raised my face to heaven and ferverently prayed for his soul to shoot upwards. To my family, it was almost as if Jesus Christ himself had died. I learned later about the strangeness of the whole situation and how the conspiracy theories were already abounding about an assassination. That didn't matter to me. What mattered is that I prayed for his soul to zoom up to Heaven.

I do remember some confusion about the smoke. White smoke meaning there is a new pope, black meaning they're fighting in the jury room. I remember being absolutely fascinated by the supposed bonking on the head by the silver hammer, just to be sure the pope was dead. What, you can't shake the guy? Put a mirror under his nose? You have to bonk him on the head??

Anyway, suddenly we had this new pope. A younger man, full of vigor and wisdom and a little mischief thrown in. I clearly remember his first blessing on the crowd at the Vatican. How young he looked. And, a non-Italian? Way to buck the system, Cardinals!!

The last decade took it's toll on Pope John Paul II. Every press conference, every special occasion. Every important news story showed him in decreasing health. The Vatican refused to acknowledge that he had Parkinson's. I think it was painfully obvious to everyone that something afflicted him. Then came the hip and knee problems. The breathing problems. The tracheotomy. I remember commenting one time "I think the Pope is going to die in 2005." My husband laughed at me because the Pope had just been taken to the hospital that day, although I hadn't even heard that yet. For some reason, I knew he probably wouldn't snap back after this last incident.

I got the FoxNews breaking news update saying that he was gravely ill and I remember my heart sinking. It was so hard for me to watch his health failing, first subtly, then drastically, to where he couldn't walk or speak. I thought about how terrible it must be to HIM, to be the picture of health and robust-ity (Nice word) and then all of a sudden, have this body be chained to his still sharp mind! That was the part I felt sorriest for. His mind was still sharp as a tack after all those years. I can't even imagine the personal struggle that went on inside his head every time he tried to speak and couldn't. The words he so eloquently spoke for so many years were stuck in his voice box, unable to come out. If it had been me, I would have rasped every single bad word I had ever learned, just out of frustration. Let them translate THAT into seven languages!!

I kept an on-line vigil all Friday, hoping the news would get better. It never did, the Vatican mum as normal. Saturday, I was flipping through channels, always coming back to CNN, when I saw Pope John Paul II, 19XX-2005. Crap. Yet, I smiled widely. Wow. To be unchained from that decrepit body! To be reunited with those he loved and went before him! To see the face of the God he had served for so many years! I understand how easy it is to be selfish when someone dies (see my earlier posts dealing with my dad. My Dad.) but I really could not cry. I was so happy that the Pope was free from his suffering, that I just smiled and thought of him dying with so much dignity and grace. Exactly how he ran the papacy. He knew what was ahead of him. So did I.

We love a common God, the Pope and I. Although I'm not Catholic anymore, I certainly loved the Pope for who we was. A world leader. A man with strong convictions that I didn't necessarily agree with, but who made me respect them in the way he carried himself. A peace keeper. A forgiver. A lover of Christ. I have many disagreements with the Catholic church these days, and I'm not going to go into them here. Suffice it to say that being ran by humans the last 2000 years has its disadvantages. Enuff said. But, whether a person is a Catholic or not, having such dignity and grace from the moment he stepped out in front of the crowd for the first time, until the last moment when he reportedly looked out the window and, with his dying breath, said, "Amen.", I hold that person in high esteem.

I prayed that night. I prayed for a quick journey for the Pope. I prayed that after he met God, he would walk over to my dad and say, "Your daughter's prayers followed me here." I hoped they would talk about heaven and how wonderful it is. They would talk about how good it was to be restored to their best form. I smiled, thinking of both of them, in heaven, walking along a stream, both restored to their original robust-ity.

Godspeed, Pope John Paul II. I didn't throw myself on the ground when you died, but after being in heaven, you'll know what my smile was about. I'll see you both someday, Pope and Dad. I can only hope it's with the same fortitude you both had at the end. And let those left behind not mourn, but smile, knowing that I will be walking along the stream with both of you, restored to my Robust-ity. Godspeed.