When my mother was diagnosed with brain and lung cancer, hope flew from me like leaves in a hurricane. Hope was replaced by fear and anxiety. I was frightened for my mother, myself, and my family. I was anxious about what lay ahead for my mom and for all of us.
My mom—a petite embodiment of Frank Sinatra’s indomitable “My Way”—chose to forgo treatment of any kind. No chemo, no surgery. Even though she understood that she would suffer as cancer ate away at her body and mind, she chose not to endure the type of suffering that would come with intrusive medical procedures. Every part of me wanted to use all my persuasive powers to convince her to get the treatments, but my sisters and I had no choice but to honor her wishes. “It’s my life,” she declared, “and I’m going to die how I want to die.”
For months, I wrestled with feelings of helplessness. Prayer didn’t come easily, but I leaned on the Rosary, my go-to prayer, for all my heavy lifting. Some days, it was the only prayer I could manage. But the repetitive rhythm of the beads kept me from sinking into despair.
As one might expect, I found myself drawn into the Sorrowful Mysteries of Christ’s suffering. The agony Jesus suffered in the Garden of Gethsemane felt more real as I watched my mom suffer the pain she had chosen. I watched her bloat like a balloon and then deflate into a mere shell of who she once was. I heard her murmur in the last weeks of her earthly life the name of God over and over again, and images of Christ carrying his cross were vivid in my mind. I took them as reminders that love endures even in pain. Visions of the Crucifixion showed me that surrender is not to be confused with defeat.
Almost one year after my mother’s diagnosis, her final moments arrived. She could no longer speak, but I sat beside her and whispered into her ear a shortened version of the Rosary prayers. There was no hope that she would survive much longer, but as I prayed, a different kind of hope washed over me. It was not the hope that she would be healed, but the hope that was signified in her life as a mother, protector, and friend. The Rosary became a bridge between us, a quiet assurance that even as my mom left this world, she was not alone. Mary was right there, praying for her and with her, and with me.
The Rosary is many things. It is a scrapbook of Mary’s memories of her Son. It is an exploration of mystery. It is a form of prayerful adoration as we use prayer and imagination to help us enter into the soothing, healing, consoling presence of Christ. But for me, the Rosary has always been a prayer of hope. Though it does not promise that suffering will be taken away, it reminds us that suffering is never the end of the story. While the Sorrowful Mysteries teach us that love remains, even in grief, the Glorious Mysteries that follow close on their heels proclaim the greatest hope of all: death is not the final word.
St. Ignatius taught that we should seek God in all things. The Rosary helped me do exactly that during a painful chapter of my life. The Rosary carried me through overwhelming waves of fear and grief, leading me at last into a place of peace. Even now, when I pray the Rosary, I hear an echo of that final prayer I whispered into my mother’s ear: Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us now and at the hour of our death.
A gentle but powerful reminder that hope lives forever.
Praying the beads is an uplifting experience. Thanks Gary for your personal testimony. Surely it can be of help to many seekers of spiritual wellbeing.
Thank you Garry for your thoughts on bearing pain and feeling consolation through the Rosary. I, myself, have been saying special prayers for the people of Ukraine in these difficult times and I made up my own Rosary decades called Hope and Rejoicing. Decades : 1] Jesus asleep in the boat during the storm – I link this to the soldiers and all people who are fighting for their land and their freedom. 2] The paralytic being led down through the roof so that Jesus can cure him – I link this to all those soldiers and people who go out of their way to help each other. 3] Elimination of Evil spirits from their land (see Gospel passages) – link to eliminate bombs, mines, hatred, malice, harm, etc. 4] A sower went out to sow his seed : – link to Ukraine once again being able to cultivate their fields of cereal, sunflowers, etc – the greening of their land. 5] Jesus brings children back to life e.g. Daughter of Jairus and the boy on the bier who was the only son of a widow – link this to all sons and daughters who have been killed, including those fighting and ministering on the front and also for children injured by bombing and/or lost their parents – that the days of childhood can be restored to them – that they can have a life without fear, pain etc and can play and act freely and joyfully.Amen
Thank you for writing about your Mom. I am not Catholic, but I bought a Rosary during Covid where I would just pray for each bead. I would pray for my family, Nurse’s, Dr’s, etc. I still have it and keep it under my pillow. Any advice about how to use it to pray for us non-Catholics?
Gary———–Thanks for the article. Well put /well written
I will share this reflection, Gary. The line “It is a scrapbook of Mary’s memories of her Son.” gave me a “wow” moment, how beautifully put.
I can find it difficult to say the rosary, mind seems to wander easily, but I am trying to focus more. I can remember saying the Hail Mary when my mum was dying and the priest had given us Holy Communion, praying that last line, “Holy Mary, Mother of GOD, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death, Amen,” was never said before with so much sincerity.
Thank you for your post.