Funeral for Marlene Quarino

28^th of December, 2005

St. Rita’s Church, Milwaukee

Sal, Kathleen, Charles and Tracy

Introduction

A story over a cup of coffee

After morning Mass at Old St. Marys this past Monday, Sal and I had a cup of coffee at Mykonos. He wanted to refresh my aging memory about how Marlene and he and I met. He said he always got the details of the story a bit wrong or inexact, and Marlene would always remind him of the right version of it. What’s more she always added a little color of her own to the story. She was good at that.

Her version goes like this: Sal’s father, Charlie, had died not too long before. When the 44^th anniversary of his parents’ wedding came up, Sal wanted to do justice to the occasion. Though his father was gone by then, he thought a Mass celebrated in his home in Bayside would be very appropriate. He called upon a Jesuit priest friend to do the honor. You know Jesuits, you just can’t depend on them. His friend called back, and said he had a provincial meeting to attend and couldn’t make it but would try to find a substitute. When he couldn’t find one, Marlene took over. She opened the telephone directory and went down the line. Nothing under the A’s, and then under the B’s she found Benedict the Moor Church on 10^th and State. She called 271-0135. Fr. Alex answered. (That’s me.) Marlene asked “Could one of you priests come out to our home to offer a Mass on the occasion of the 44^th wedding anniversary of my husband’s parents, though my husband’s father is now recently deceased? The occasion would be both a celebration and a memorial.”

Here Sal insisted on telling the story with Marlene’s colorful input. She said that I sounded a bit hesitant and even reluctant. “Where do you people live,” I asked. “We live in Bayside,” she answered. Here Sal remarked that Marlene would say, “I could tell he had no idea where anything north of North Avenue was.” Being assured that Bayside was, indeed, here in the state of Wisconsin, I proceeded to ask (still with hesitation), “Is this something that your husband really wants? Is it something that’s really important to him?” She replied, “Yes, by all means! That’s why I’m calling.” Then, I’m told I asked, “Could I have your name again?” “Yes,” Marlene replied. “It is Mr. and Mrs. Salvatore Quarino.” Here Marlene’s version goes like this, and it’s probably true: “”When I said `Salvatore Quarino,’ Fr. Alex exclaimed, `Oh you people are Italian! I’m one too! My name is Luzi.’ “With that,” Marlene said, “I knew we had it made.”

Well the day finally came. I actually managed to find Bayside. It was, as they said, right here in the State of Wisconsin. I also managed to find the Quarino residence. I had the day correct (Marlene goes on to say), and I even arrived on time. That‘s her version. How disparaging and how loving! She was right! I was a kind of a basket case in those days. Things have improved but just a little.

The Mass of celebration and memorial turned out to be very meaningful. When it was over (Sal tells me) Marlene whispered to him, saying, “Give Father the stipend (payment for religious services).” Sal tells me that I refused the payment. Now that wasn’t very heroic back in those days when gas was only 75 cents a gallon. I’d think twice today before refusing a stipend. But anyway, Marlene nudged Sal again to give me the stipend. Sal said I refused again, but this time I said to him, “Why don’t you and Marlene prepare a nice big Jell-O dish and bring it to the community meal at St. Ben’s.” That’s how the three of us got together there at Ben’s. And that’s the story Sal told me (and reminded me of) over a cup of coffee at Mykonos this past Monday. I know he told it to me so that I would tell it to you this morning. For what reason I’m not quite sure.

The mixed bag of life

Why do people have to die during the Christmas season, the most joyful time of the year? This afternoon, Sr. Rita Martin, a Dominican sister from Siena Center in Racine, will be buried. She was an intelligent and devoted apostle to the prisoners across the street from St. Ben’s. She was also a dear friend to all of us at Ben’s in those days, including Marlene and Sal.

At this time of the rolling year when Christmas carols blurt out that this is the most joyful time of the year, I always find myself swimming against the current. I always say it’s also the saddest time of the year for many people and for many reasons. The first Christmas wasn’t a particularly joyful time for Joseph and Mary. En route to Bethlehem, they were overtaken with the pangs of childbirth, and they had to take shelter in a stable because there was no room for them in the inn.

Liturgically the Christmas season is a kind of bloody and painful one. The red of Christmas, yes, is the red of beautiful and joyful poinsettias. But it is also the red of blood and pain. The very next day after Christmas, we commemorate at Mass the blood of St. Stephen, the first martyr of the New Testament. As they are stoning him to death, he prays, “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do.” Then on the 28^th (today), we commemorate the blood of the Holy Innocents, those baby boys, two years old and younger, slain by King Herod. “A loud cry is heard in Rama. It is Rachel weeping for her children because they are no more” (Mt 2:16-18). Then on the 29^th, we commemorate the blood of St. Thomas a` Becket, Archbishop of Canterbury, murdered in his cathedral in 1170 by King Henry II of England. We, who sorrow today during this joyful time of the year because of the passing of Marlene (who often made us laugh in life), are in tune with the true atmosphere of the Christmas season and of life itself. It’s a mix of joy and sorrow.

The impatience of Marlene

When the novena of Christmas begins on the 17^th of December, the church starts singing the ancient Latin O Antiphons at vespers. They’re so called because they all begin with O—with sighs and exclamations of wonderment and joy. The antiphons are a litany of Old Testament titles addressed to the son of Mary. All of them are filled with impatience. On 17^th the antiphon is “O Sapientia, veni!” (Eccl: 24:3,10). “Oh Wisdom, hurry up and come!” On the 18^th the antiphon is, “O Adonai, veni!” (Ex 3:3-15). “Oh Lord God of hosts, hurry up and come!” The antiphon for the 19^th is particularly impatient. “O radix Jesse, veni, et noli tardare!” (Is 11:1). “Oh Sprout from the stump of Jesse, hurry up and come. For heaven’s sake, stop your delaying.” Marlene, who had a kind of good impatience about herself, passed from us on the 22^nd of December, the sixth day of the impatient O Antiphons. ”O King of the Gentiles, hurry up and come!” He did hurry up and come, and he took her home, to everyone’s unbelief and grief.

Marlene’s interview with God

And when she was let into the pearly gates, that impatient lady immediately asked for an interview with God. Imagine, asking for an interview with God. Sounds just like her. The interview went so well she sent a detailed account of it by e-mail back to all of us, her loved ones here on earth. It reads:

I asked for an interview with God, and he said to me, “Oh so you would like to interview me?” Though I knew better, I replied, “If you have the time.” God smiled and said, “My time is eternity.” Then he asked me, “What do you have in mind?” I asked God, “Tell me, what surprises you most about us human beings?” And God answered:

ü “This is what surprises me: that they get bored with childhood, that they rush to grow up and then long to be children again.

ü This is what surprises me: that they lose their health to make a lot of money so they can buy a lot of things, and then lose their money to restore their health.

ü This is what surprises me: that they are so occupied with painful regrets about the past or so consumed with gnawing anxieties about the future that they never really live in the present, which is all there really is.

ü This is what surprises me especially at this time of the rolling year: that their busyness keeps them running here, there and everywhere except to the stable where they will find the reason for the season.

ü This is what surprises me: that they live as if though they’re never going to die, and they die as though they never lived.”

Silently God took my hands into his (she writes), and we were both silent for a moment. Then I asked God, “What are some of life’s lessons you want your children to learn?”

And God answered:

ü “To learn they cannot make anyone love them. All they can do is let themselves be loved.

ü To learn that it is not good to compare themselves with others.

ü To learn forgiveness by practicing it.

ü To learn that it takes only a few seconds to open profound wounds in people we love, and it can take many years to heal them.

ü To learn that a rich person is not one who has the most or the latest or the best but the one who needs the least.

ü To learn that it is not enough that they forgive others. They must also forgive themselves.”

I was deeply grateful for the interview (Marlene writes back), and I thanked God for his time. Then I asked, “Is there anything else you would like me to tell your children?” God smiled and said, “Just tell them I am here, ALWAYS!”

Conclusion

Home for Christmas

As countless people were making plans to head home for Christmas via air, rail and road, wise Marlene decided to by-pass all the holiday rush in busy airports, railways and highways. She set out early via Angel Express, and she beat us all home for Christmas. That’s just like her. What’s more, she got all her Christmas cards written with one single e-mail. That, too, is just like her. Now look at that! She beat us all home for Christmas, and she has all her Christmas cards written. Why weep for her? The tears at a funeral, at the end of the day, are really for ourselves. We have still many miles to go and still many letters to write.