Good Friday to Easter Sunday

My father had an accident in the garage many years ago and, as a result, lost the sight in one eye.  For sometime now the sight in the other eye has been deteriorating.  It was decided that he needed to have a cataract removed and the appointment was given for 7.45am on Good Friday.  My niece and I took him to Sligo General for the procedure.  It was a lovely morning, clear skies and all was well but he told me he didn’t know how I was able to drive in such an awful fog.  This made me aware of what he was looking through.  Though the day was perfectly clear, his view of it was through a heavy fog.  There was no doubt he needed the surgery!

The procedure was relatively fast and simple – especially for my niece and I – whatever about Bill.  Shortly after 9am he was ready to go home but his eye was bandaged and he was now completly blind and dependant on us.  We guided him as best we could to the car, got him in and headed for home.  I told him where we were along the way – Ballymote, Gurteen, Mullaghroe and home.  We helped him from the car and took him to the sitting room.  The fog of the morning was now total darkness for him.  He spent the rest of Good Friday like that.

On Holy Saturday I went home.  He was unbanadaged but felt there was grit in his eye and he was in some discomfort.  My niece did her best for him – drops and gracious care.  He was okay but a bit down.  He knew, as we all did, that there was always a slight possibility things might not work out.  It’s possible that he was thinking of this on Saturday.  We reassured him that things would improve and, though he agreed, he looked very vulnerable and was, I’m certain, more than a little worried.

On Easter Sunday morning, I got a text message from my brother – sent shortly after 7am.  He had gone in home, found my father at the kitchen table, sitting there and READING an old Parish Bulletin from Kilmovee. Yes, reading and doing so without glasses.  He told my brother he had weighed himself and was three pounds lighter than my niece had told him.  He could see the scales.  My brother’s text concluded “I hope I did not wake you but this is good news”!  So it was and remains!

I mentioned this at Masses on Easter Sunday.  There seems to me to be a link in the move from Good Friday to Easter Sunday.  My father’s Good Friday began in a clowd, moved into darkness that lasted through Friday and Saturday and Easter Sunday morning brought new sight and light and, as my brother so rightly said, “Good News”.

There is a link here …. At least I think there is. 

Happy Easter!  Good News.  Alleluia!!!

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