Francis of Hope
I didn’t expect to see Pope Francis.
I was just going to see my mom.
She had been diagnosed with stage 4 breast cancer a year earlier and had decided to get her treatment in Mexico. It was a normal course of care. We had hope. I had switched jobs, so it was challenging to take time off to visit her, but my new boss allowed me to take 10 days off in mid-February 2016. It was just a couple of weeks before I left that I learned Pope Francis would be stopping in Morelia, the capital of the state of Michoacán.
I figured we might be able to see him. Well, we did. We set up camp with some relatives and waited for hours under the sun. Eventually, some vendors came around with hats, cold pop, and water. My mom wasn’t with us.
Fortunately, she was able to attend a Mass he celebrated at one of the local universities. Some of my cousins gave her the tickets they had received, as they had been invited to play music during the liturgy. She was able to receive communion and pray for herself, as well as for all of Morelia and Mexico.
I saw him for just an instant—just seconds really—but I am so glad my mother was able to pray and be with my aunt and so many others, hoping to be healed entirely from cancer for good.
It was not to be.
About a year and a half later, she passed on, and the memory of that visit had vanished from my mind. We were so caught up in her care, mourning her, and so many losses that followed in those two years that followed. And then the pandemic. That visit to Mexico came back when Pope Francis passed away this past Monday and is now laid to rest in Rome. I had hoped he would heal and get to full strength, to be with us just a few more years.
It was not to be.
However, I did see a post of scripture on social media that reminded me of the hope Jesus brought to the world for all people through his life, death, and resurrection. It was a hope I found even when my heart hurt and cried as I mourned my mother, and now mourn Pope Francis. I will never forget this verse, especially during this Easter Season:
“Death is swallowed up in victory. Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?” First letter of St. Paul to the Corinthians 15: 54-55