I think one of hardest lessons we learn is that life and death always coexist. As was witnessed this past Friday when my mother-in-law’s 6th great-grandchild was born and by the end of the day her life in this world ended. Today, family and friends came together as we mourned her death and celebrated her life in the Mass of the Resurrection. I was privileged to preach at her funeral... so listen to how, in her final weeks, she was able to open our eyes to what the Irish call the ‘thin places’ in life and the spiritual wisdom she left us to live by...

1. 1 Deacon Jim Knipper
10 September 2019 Funeral Homily: Pat Poloney Annville, PA
For so many decades our family has gathered in this Church celebrating Baptisms, First Communions,
Confirmations, Weddings as well as so many Eucharistic celebrations. And as time moved on we all knew that
this day would come…where we would gather here, together, as a family, surrounded by friends, to give thanks
for the life of Mom…to mourn her death and to celebrate her new life with Christ.
I think one of hardest lessons we learn is that life and death always, always coexist. As was witnessed this past
Friday when Mom’s 6th great-grandchild was born in the south of France and by the end of the day Mom was
called home. This paradox of life and death is woven through our lives and our faith. As we heard in the second
reading, when Mom was baptized she died to who she was and through the waters of baptism was reborn as a
disciple of Christ – out of death came new life. Ninety years since then – surrounded by the same sacramental
signs of baptism: the paschal candle, white cloth/pall and water, Mom has now died to this temporary and brief
life we all live in and is now reborn into a new and eternal life with Christ.
This was the same message Christ was giving to his disciples in the Gospel story I just read. Listening to the
parable of the Grain of Wheat, his rural audience easily understood the principle of resurrection produced by
dead seeds sown into the Earth. It is a reminder that all of us will need to die to our current convictions and
ideas and egos and then eventually our lives in this world…so that we can be reborn in the Kingdom of God.
Mom knew this, maybe better than most, as witnessed in her own version of this Gospel in what I call the
Parable of the Milkweed Seed. As you know Mom and Dad enjoyed their summers boating and fishing in Cape
May. Mom especially loved to sit on the beach and talk to her visiting friends. With Cape May, being a central
corridor to the migration of butterflies who feed on the milkweed, Mom decided, one day, to cast milkweed
seeds in the sand and rocks of the seawall across the street from us. The terrain she chose made it difficult for
growth to take place, but with patience and time, the sprouts of a milkweed plant finally began to show. But
soon after, Hurricane Sandy arrived and with it came the ocean waters rushing over the seawall for over a day
wiping out everything in its path, including the milkweed sprouts – or so we thought. For the following spring –
there it was – bigger and better than ever before – the orange milkweed plant!
I doubt that one could find a better metaphor for Mom’s life. For like that milkweed plant, throughout the storms
and chaos that mom faced in life, her roots were anchored in the rock of her faith, seeing God’s presence in
family and friends and bringing beauty and nourishment to everyone in her life.
Perhaps the best example of how she did this was through the grace of hospitality. At home it was said to have
been a rarity to only have the family gathered for a meal – for all were welcomed – as neighbors and friends
would always be joining in whatever food there was…with Mom always ensuring there was always room for one
more…well at least most of the time. These past few weeks she did admit to praying over most of her
daughters’ boyfriends in order to be rid of them – so Dave, Jim, Charlie, Dave and I seem to be the lucky ones
who made it despite any possible prayers that Mom may have said!
Indeed, prayers were central to Mom as was this Church we are sitting in – for it was Mom’s second home as
she breathed life into this community, reaching out to those who needed help. Often we would be sitting on the
beach with her and she would announce that she had to go and get ready to head back to Annville. When we
asked her why, her usual response was that she had to go back and do the altar linens and to help some “old
ladies” get to the doctor…and we would remind her that she was an old lady!! But off she would go, nary a
complaint, showing her colors, feeding others, caring for those in need, anchored, like that milkweed plant, in
her rock of faith.

2. 2 Deacon Jim Knipper
Then on July 9 the diagnosis of glioblastoma was given. Unfortunately our family already had experience with
this type of cancer so we knew what to expect…only to find out what we never expected. But before I go there,
this is probably the best place to pause and acknowledge with gratitude the incredible coordination of love and
service by Patrick, Annie, Teresa, Alice, Mary and Helene…and so many loving grandchildren and great-
grandchildren as well as a bevy of caregivers who provided so much comfort to Mom and Dad and the whole
family. Each with your own gifts and graces, you gave mom the greatest demonstration of love possible – your
presence.
So once our family received the diagnosis everyone adjusted their schedules as flights were made and AirB&B
reservations booked and we took turns gathering around Mom as we watched a steady decline in the ensuing
weeks. But what we didn’t expect was as the brain cancer began to shut her mind down, it opened her up to
what the Irish call the – Thin Places.
The Celtics say that Heaven and earth are separated by only three feet. But when you can calm your mind –
and listen to your heart and soul, allowing your spiritual side to come to the forefront…and thus open your eyes
to God’s presence – the distance between the two worlds becomes very thin. It is said that one can then walk
between both worlds where the difference is indiscernible...where something is felt versus seen…where truth
abides, love is the foundation and where one feels connected with something – someone – much greater.
Perhaps you have felt brief moments of being in a ‘thin place’ with the birth of a child, the embrace of a loved
one or a moment of great beauty in nature. But for Mom, as the cancer continued to rob her of her daily
cognitive thoughts – her stories and quips made it clear that she was spending more and more time
experiencing thin moments.
It began with her telling us that when she was waking from her sleep that she kept hearing a voice inviting her to
“Come fish with me.” For she had already described to us that heaven will be like a great sea filled with plenty of
fish to catch. And that when she dies, she knows that her Dad, Alice Smaska and Fr. Pantle will be there to
introduce her to Jesus. But we reminded her that she will need no introduction to Christ for she has always
known and seen and shared Jesus with others. But throughout her stories you could still sense Mom’s fear
about dying.
But then something happened on Saturday July 27th. As our family well knows, Alena was due to give birth to
her first son around August 10th, another great-grandchild for Mom. But by the morning of the 27th Alena was in
full labor, two weeks early. Around 4:00 p.m. that afternoon Alena gave birth to Kai and at the same time a few
miles away Mom was waking from her nap – from spending time in those Thin Moments and later described to
us a dream that she had. She said that she had this vision of a swaddled baby, lying on her wheel chair ramp
and telling her to have courage – to not be afraid. She went on to say, “I passed him in the night and saw that he
is coming and I am going. I was afraid of my terminal cancer at first but then so many prayers came, so God
took care of that and sent Kai to help me.”
If that wasn’t enough you just need to look a bit deeper at this story – and reflect on Kai’s name. His full name is
the Greek word, Kairos – which is different from Chronos. Chronos is chronological time, time as duration, one
moment after another, and that’s what most of us think of as time. But Kairos time means a deep time. It
represents those moments where you say, “Oh my God, this is it. I get it,” or, “This is as perfect as it can be,” or,
“This moment is summing up the last years of my life,” things like that where time comes to a fullness, when the
stars seem to be in alignment and all the dots connect. For Mom, the gift of Kai and of her Kairos moment
brought a great deal of peace to her – peace that she wants us to take with us this day.

3. 3 Deacon Jim Knipper
For it is a day that we mourn her passing from this life to the next…but it is a time for us to remember her
life…and remember this sacred journey of these past months where we witnessed her faith in the face of death.
Soon we will lay Mom to rest and we will head back to our homes and our daily lives – richer for her being a part
of our lives, but still carrying the loss of her physical presence. So what do we do?
First she wants us to smile and not to cry and thus the poem she chose for the back of her prayer card. After
that, I think we should follow the sage advice Mom wanted to be shared with everyone today through the
readings she chose and her encounters with Thin Moments. Namely:
1. Be who you are and be that well. Be yourself, not who others expect or want you to be – but be who
you are in Christ, as you were created by the God who loves you unconditionally. A God who has you
engraved in the palm of God’s hand.
2. Be gentle and kind to yourself and be at peace with God or whatever name you want to give your
Creator…and never cease to look for that Divine presence all around you by being present to the one
you are with each moment of every day.
3. Be at peace with silence and stillness. Make time to quiet your mind and your body – for when you
do…you may find yourself in one of those thin moments where those who have gone before us and who
continue to love us are still present to us – and where you just may hear a voice calling to you to ‘Come
and fish with me”
Indeed Mom – and all of us - were blessed with many years to see the fruit of the seeds that she sowed her
whole life come to fulfillment, in so many ways. So let us continue to teach and love and mentor our children and
grandchildren and all those who come into our lives using the gifts God has given each of us and in ways, that
frankly, we may not be able to comprehend…in essence to indeed live fully until the day we die where once
again, we will be united with our Patricia, our Gigi, our mom, our grandma and our beloved…who now rests
easily with a view of a new found, fish-filled, wide open sea, embraced by God’s arms…being more of God
through this mutual and unfathomable and never-ending love – a love that is always present to you and me…the
same love that now brings our Mom to the place that has been prepared for her by our good and gracious God.