"If you follow God, you will never go wrong. He is never wrong."

*S. Aniceta

On Friday morning I receieved a message that another one of my friends & "spiritual mentors" had passed away. S. Aniceta Shalz died at a very young 99 years old. She died exactly the way she had wanted; peacefully alone as the stars twinkled in the night sky before the first snowfall. S. Aniceta was a joy; there was something about her that was instantly loveable. She was stern, yet she was known to come up with one liners that would send you into a roar of laughter. She had such a sense of wit, such a love for humor, spirituality, & God. She was very young for her age & always held her passion for people and music until her very last breath. She would even show me how she could march in her wheelchair; she was a marching band instructor for much of her life and she adored it and the students. She was gracious, appreciative, and a delight. Her laughter was contagious. I was blessed to have known and loved her. My sophomore year I met S. Aniceta and was instantly attached---ever since then once or twice a week I would go and visit her. Sometimes, if the weather permitted I would push her wheelchair outside and we would take walks around the Monastery grounds--she always said that when she entered the Monastery some of the trees were just babies and how she had loved watching them grow in to the talls trees that stood today. Sometimes we would just sit and chat; about God, life, or whatever was on our minds. She was always ready to answer my questions and offer her invaluable words of wisdom on life. I could hardly wait until our visits when I would hear "here comes my ladybug!" She did have a bit of dementia and at times she could not remember my name, but I believe she always knew my face. When I received the message that she had passed away--my first instinct was not a tear, but a smile. She had told me the previous week that I was to pray for God to take her home. When I told her I could never pray for her to die, she said that she was 99 years old and had lived a wonderful life, she was ready to see God and I was to pray that she would very soon---she assured me that it would be okay and beamed with excitement as she spoke of Heaven. The way she spoke of her death made you almost excited for her, for she spoke of it as though she were a child anxiously awaiting Disney World. When the time came there was a sense of joy; that she had finally received the eternal life she had longed to see for so many years. There were, however, selfish tears as soon as I remembered it meant there would be no more walks, no more talks on God or Benedict, and no more silly moments as she teased me about my hairdo (she did not like it when I got my hair highlighted). *smile*

In the last 3 weeks I have lost the two people that were my "spiritual mentors"; friends and people who brought me closer to God by just being near them; who loved me unconditionally, & provided me with a support no one could match. To have them both in Heaven watching over everyone they loved is a blessing; a true comfort. To have them gone from this Earthly world, to never hold their hands in prayer, or join their voices in laughter; a loss for which I am unsure how to deal. These past 3 weeks have been a reminder of St. Benedict's words to "keep death daily before our eyes." Tomorrow, I will again go to the Mount for a vigil; for sharing tears of loss, hugs of comfort, & the laughter of old times.

To know that two of my closest friends & "mentors" will be buried side by side carries a sense of sadness, but it also, as someone wise told me, is "powerful." Heaven is surely a more lively place now that Julia & Aniceta are there. Julia is giggling and dancing, as she so loved. Aniceta is marching in the front of the band, teaching others to keep time, as was her passion. Heaven must be smiling right now.

The quote "God only cries for the living..." comes to mind right now---for we have no need to shed tears for the ones lost, but only for those left here to carry on without them.

In 3 weeks the pain of losing Julia has not subsided and for the first time I am grateful--because the presence of that hole in my heart means that we are still connected, still joined in love & prayer and no one can take that away, no one can fill that void. Now, next to that hole lies another; one left by the loss of Aniceta; but just like our relationships in life, the hole is different, but they are both the same in that they will never be filled. I will never be the same, for the lives of Julia and Aniceta have touched my heart in way no one else could--I am blessed.

Heaven must have needed some good laughs & music. So for us, "the beat must go on."

Picture: S. Aniceta and Me my junior year. We had just come in from a lovely walk around the Monastery grounds, looking at the gorgeous trees