Remember

Chatting with Fr Alvaro earlier this year.

My dad passed away 30 years ago…from a brain tumor. Today, I lost a spiritual father when Fr Alvaro passed away…from a brain tumor.

I learned my dad had died when I returned home from a long morning run. I learned Fr Alvaro had died when I received a text message…while on a long run.

Each of these two men had a profound impact on my life. Each died from the same type of tumor. That each died while I was sweating my way down a running trail has significance only to me, and I’m not sure what that significance is.

In his final months, my dad maintained his sense of humor and, if anything, shared more with me that he had in the previous three decades of my life. He had been a hard-working man who drank too much, smoked constantly and ate an unhealthy diet.

Fr Alvaro always had time for me. He responded to emails and occasionally called just to say hello and see how I was doing. He always thanked me for working for the movement, though my small contribution was a tiny fraction of what he gave. He worked hard, watched his health and in recent years dealt with more stress than any human should have to face.

I miss my dad, and the loss of Fr Alvaro has been a reminder of that loss. I miss Fr Alvaro, who had a kindness and joy most of us will never attain. To me, he was a holy man.

Life. Death. A dad and a spiritual father. What gifts they gave me.