Skip to main content
Happy All Souls. Or Solemn. Whatever it's supposed to be. I miss my Dad. I thought of him last night. The priest had told me to offer prayers for loved ones who need it. I just mentally prayed for him without a thought.

On the one hand, I have no sure confidence that he arrived in the place of mercy that is Purgatory. At the same time, God's mercy is infinite, more than any of us know. So I prayed. And again, just now. If God's chosen ones still need sanctity, He doesn't hold out on them, even after death. I get that not everyone believes in Purgatory, but as an Actual Catholic, in fact, I do.

Anyway, Dad. Every day, I realize how much I want to be him, in all the ways that are good. I definitely feel like my relationship with God is Dad's. If I can honor God even in the ballpark of what He deserves, then somehow, it will be said that the Kettinger name is a good one, and by the One who matters.

My name--that is, my reputation--matters to me a lot. Though I suppose that living for Christ will mean that it will mean squat in the world of men. Still, that is the gravest wound to me that one could inflict. That I am not good. Maybe I'm proud. If people say I am a bad man, and I know it's false, oh, well. But if perchance I am a good man, and they say so, why should I disdain it? One of the things that has inspired me are all the good stories people told about my father. Even if those are just stories of natural goodness, it is a charge to keep.

I'm going to see my brother this afternoon. He'll tell you who he is most like, and who he wants to be. That is, if he doesn't say me, and that humbles me. I only know that the small piece of ourselves that was ripped away the day he died, we have found in each other. That's why we love baseball. Because he did. That's why my brother loves his son, and why I want one. Because Richard Roy Kettinger loved his. Not that I couldn't love a daughter. Not at all. But you men know what I mean.

If you don't have qualms about praying for the dead, pray for him, will you? If you do, thank the Lord for such a good man. Especially if you see that in me.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

My Thoughts On The Harrison Butker Commencement Speech

Update: I read the whole thing. I’m sorry, but what a weirdo. I thought you [Tom Darrow, of Denver, CO] made a trenchant case for why lockdowns are bad, and I definitely appreciated it. But a graduation speech is *not* the place for that. Secondly, this is an august event. It always is. I would never address the President of the United States in this manner. Never. Even the previous president, though he deserves it, if anyone does. Thirdly, the affirmations of Catholic identity should be more general. He has no authority to propound with specificity on all matters of great consequence. It has all the hallmarks of a culture war broadside, and again, a layman shouldn’t speak like this. The respect and reverence due the clergy is *always due,* even if they are weak, and outright wrong. We just don’t brush them aside like corrupt Mafia dons, to make a point. Fourthly, I don’t know where anyone gets the idea that the TLM is how God demands to be worshipped. The Church doesn’t teach that. ...

Dear Alyse

 Today, you’re 35. Or at least you would be, in this place. You probably know this, but we’re OK. Not great, but OK. We know you wouldn’t want us moping around and weeping all the time. We try not to. Actually, I guess part of the problem is that you didn’t know how much we loved you. And that you didn’t know how to love yourself. I hope you have gotten to Love by now. Not a place, but fills everything in every way. I’m not Him, but he probably said, “Dear daughter/sister, you have been terribly hard on yourself. Rest now, and be at peace.” Anyway, teaching is going well, and I tell the kids all about you. They all say you are pretty. I usually can keep the boys from saying something gross for a few seconds. Mom and I are going to the game tonight. And like 6 more times, before I go back to South Carolina. I have seen Nicky twice, but I myself haven’t seen your younger kids. Bob took pictures of the day we said goodbye, and we did a family picture at the Abbey. I literally almost a...

A Friend I Once Had, And The Dogmatic Principle

 I once had a friend, a dear friend, who helped me with personal care needs in college. Reformed Presbyterian to the core. When I was a Reformed Presbyterian, I visited their church many times. We were close. I still consider his siblings my friends. (And siblings in the Lord.) Nevertheless, when I began to consider the claims of the Catholic Church to be the Church Christ founded, he took me out to breakfast. He implied--but never quite stated--that we would not be brothers, if I sought full communion with the Catholic Church. That came true; a couple years later, I called him on his birthday, as I'd done every year for close to ten of them. He didn't recognize my number, and it was the most strained, awkward phone call I have ever had. We haven't spoken since. We were close enough that I attended the rehearsal dinner for his wedding. His wife's uncle is a Catholic priest. I remember reading a blog post of theirs, that early in their relationship, she told him of the p...