Chapter 1

He adored his Mother. She had always been there for him. She had reared him by herself, a single mom, working six days a week as a waitress in two different diners, so that she could put a roof over his head, food in his mouth, and provide for a better than average education. She was a very religious woman, who believed in God, attended Church regularly and insisted that he get a Catholic School education. When he was born, she had named him Peter for a reason. He was going to be her rock; without a man in her life, she would build her life upon him.

Like her, he was short, and slight of build to the point that many thought he was sickly. Standing just over five feet four inches tall, he was always one of the shortest in his class. His hair was dark brown, almost black and his olive complexion suggested that maybe his missing father had been from one of the Mediterranean cultures.

Peter had attended their parish’s grammar school, and Seton Hall Prep, and received his undergraduate degree in theology at Seton Hall University. His Mother could not have been more proud of him than the day he announced that he had been accepted for enrollment at Immaculate Conception Seminary School of Theology, with priesthood as his ultimate goal.

He had completed the first two years of study and was well into the third when he began having doubts about becoming a priest. Finally, after several days of deliberation, he made an appointment to meet with his spiritual mentor, Father Kevin.

After the usual pleasantries, Fr. Kevin asked,

“So Peter, what brings you to see me?”

“Father Kevin, this is very hard for me. I don’t know how to put this.”

“I find that if you just tell me what’s on your mind without dwelling on every word, it all comes out.”

“Okay. Father, I’m not sure I truly want to be a priest. I’ve been having these feelings.”

“What kind of feelings?”

“Sexual feelings. It’s never happened to me before, but now as I walk across campus or sit in the café during lunch, if I see a pretty girl I begin to get aroused. How can I think about becoming a priest, to take a vow of celibacy, if I can’t control my sexual urges?”

“I see,” said Father. Kevin. “And do you feel that this is somehow abnormal? You’re twenty-four years old; and from the little you’ve told me, I assume, a virgin. It’s your body that is betraying you, not your mind. These urges will pass in time; you just have to be strong in your faith. If vows were easy anyone could give them. It takes a strong character to uphold a vow of any type. I suggest that you go back to your room tonight and pray for the strength to overcome these temptations.”

Unsatisfied, Peter reluctantly returned to his room and prayed for guidance and strength of character. Over the next several weeks things did not improve. He wanted desperately to talk with his Mother, but this was not something that he could talk to her about, and besides he didn’t want to disappoint her.

‘Well maybe if I just go home for the weekend and be with Mother, it will make me feel better.’

Friday night, after classes, Peter boarded the bus and headed for home. Two hours later, after a bus transfer and a ten minute walk, he stuck his key into the lock of the front door. He had expected to be alone for a while, since his Mother usually worked Friday nights. When he walked into the living room, he found her sitting in her favorite chair, an afghan over her shoulders, reading her bible.

She didn’t look well.

“Peter, what are you doing home? I wasn’t expecting to see you until the end of the semester.”

“I missed you. Can’t a guy come home for the weekend to see his favorite girl?”

She nodded her head slowly and then appeared to grimace in pain.

“Mom, what’s wrong you don’t look right?”

“Just a touch of the flu or something,” she said trying her best to hide her pain.

“Mom, what’s wrong, you look like you’ve lost weight, your eyes look sunken and you’re pale as a ghost. Have you been to the doctor?”

“There’s nothing that the doctor can do for me.”

“Mom, what do you mean; what’s wrong?”

“I have cancer. It’s a very aggressive type of breast cancer and has spread throughout my body. I’m dying.”

“Mom, no; don’t say that. What are they doing for you, what’s the treatment? When did you find out about it? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Whoa, slow down; I’m an old woman, I can only answer one question at a time.”

“You’re not old; you’re only forty-three. You’re too young to die,” Peter said, kneeling at his mother’s feet, his hands holding tightly onto hers.

“I feel old. I found out about it after you returned to school after Christmas. I went to the clinic because I wasn’t feeling well. They took some blood and gave me an antibiotic and told me to get some rest. Three days later, they called me back and asked me to come to the hospital for more tests. They did a CAT scan and a nuclear bone scan or something or other. The next day a doctor came in to see me. He explained to me that I had breast cancer and that it had spread rapidly throughout my body. He said they could do radiation or chemo treatments, which may extend my life for a short while; but in the end I would still die. I asked him what my life would be like during the treatments and he basically told me it would be hell. He said the alternative would be to do nothing and give me drugs for the pain. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to worry. You have enough on your mind, with the seminary and all.”

“How long?”

“A month; two at the most,” she said grimacing once again.

“Is it time for a pill?”

“Yes, but I try to put them off as long as possible; they make me sleepy.”

“Please, Mom; I’ll get you a pill. Take it, I don’t want to see you in pain,” Peter said, getting up and walking to the kitchen counter where she always kept any pills she was taking.

Returning with a glass of water and a pill, he made sure that she took it before helping her to her feet.

“Why don’t you get ready for bed, I have a couple of calls to make.”

Once he heard the bathroom door close, he picked up the phone and called Fr. Kevin. He explained the situation and told him that it was his intention to stay and take care of her until the end.

“I’ll put together the paperwork for a leave of absence and submit it on your behalf.”

“Thank you, Father; you’ve been a good friend.”

“You take good care of her, my son. Take as long as you need; we’ll be here when you decide to come back.”

Peter returned to his mother’s bedroom in time to help her get comfortable.

“Don’t worry about a thing, Mom; I’m here now and I’ll take care of you.”

He didn’t tell her about leaving the seminary; the weekend was not the time, Monday morning would be soon enough. That night when he went to his room, he asked God to give him the strength to care for her and to ease her suffering and give her peace. That weekend he watched her closely. She ate little and only took her pill for the pain when he made her.

Chapter 2 »