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For Raymond

 

by Bill Tomasso

 

 

Bill is my name.  When I married Ray’s sister, Agnes, he and I became brothers-in-law, naturally.

 

I will begin with telling you about his funeral in Boston.  The way the funeral as planned and handled, by the Friars, you could say, “It was made in heaven”

 

This made the two sisters very happy.  There was one particular young Friar that did most all of the planning and work.  His name was Fr. Paul (Fohlin).  He put a booklet together, with pictures of Ray as a young boy and up to present age.  Beautifully done.  He also put together the prayer service for the night before the funeral, and the songs and prayers for the Mass and the prayers said at the cemetery.  This particular young friar never intended to become a priest or Friar.  He was living a normal life, going out with a young lady and doing whatever anyone else does at that age.  He happened to catch Father Bruno’s Seminar for the Third Order of the Carmelites.  Not long after that, he joined the Carmelite Order.  He was also our go-between with phone calls and e-mails, all the time Ray was in the nursing home.  He also was at Ray’s side when Ray “passed away”.

 

The only time we would see Ray after he entered the monastery was when he came home on vacation.  He made sure his mother could make any plans for things she wanted him to do (like visiting friends in a nursing home) and he did it.  His mother came first.  Then his sisters would give their list to Ray on when and where the Masses would be said.  The demand for Masses at someone’s home were many.  Sometimes his sisters would have to promise “next time”.  At these Masses, a nice breakfast was served and an envelope was passed.  At Communion time, he would mention each person’s first name, even though he had met them only once.

 

He had a great memory.  On his sisters’ last visit to the nursing home, while he had his eyes closed and seemed to be sleeping, they were talking about the first host on Family Feud.  Who was he?  They couldn’t agree.  Then out of nowhere a voice said “Richard Dawson”.

 

Sister Sylvia’s convent was next door to the nursing home.  She would go see him every day to say the rosary.  The same thing happened to Sister Sylvia on saying the rosary together.  When a voice said, “you missed a Hail Mary”.  His memory was the best!

 

Whenever he came home he would tell us a few jokes.  I would tell him they were corny, “and they were”.  After a few years of corny jokes, he finally updated them and they were good.  From then on all of his jokes were worth repeating.

 

On a few of our vacations, the wife and I would go and visit him, take him out, whatever.  I remember one year we went to see him in Washington, DC.  They had a Brother that was their cook.  He asked us what we would like for supper.  I said spaghetti.  He made the tastiest meatless sauce that I ever tasted.  (At that time, the Friars were not allowed to eat meat.)

 

Another time we went to visit him in New Hampshire with Aggie’s sister and her husband Chris.  The cook there made us a meal fit for a king.  Personally, I think that there is an order from higher up to feed the Friars only good meals, so that they don’t leave the order.

 

Ray made me feel good the time we invited him for spaghetti for home made meatballs and sauce.  When he was through eating he would clean the plate with a slice of Italian bread.  He made it look like he hadn’t eaten anything.  But I knew he did.  I saw that he had a couple of helpings.  (Just made a cook feel good, when a guy cleans his plate.  “He was one good eater.”)

 

It was after his mother passed away, at age 96, that he happened to start going on Mission Appeals.  He usually had to make appeals two Sundays in a row.  When they were close to Rochester, he stayed at Anne Marie’s house for the week.  She had a special room for him.

 

Again, Masses would be scheduled at the homes of family and friends.  Then one day, a friend from St. Jude’s Parish suggested we have the Mass in a park so that more people would be able to attend, and it could include a picnic.  Two young women liked the idea and made it happen.  They put everything together and made it work.  You all know who they were!

 

The first Mass outside was a big success.  It was continued every year until Father Bruno got sick.  It went on for four years.  Everyone contributed food and the monetary donations were so great that Father Bruno was able to take a large sum back with him to the Monastery.  My wife remembers the very first Mass in the park.  It was raining.  When Ray started the Mass, the rain stopped and the sun came out.  (I like to think it was small miracle.)

 

When Father Bruno was hospitalized, the word got around; the phone was ringing all day long.  Many friends were praying for him to get better.  I’ll bet God was astonished at how many good friends one person could have.  (Maybe not – because God knows everything.)

 

Besides his sisters, going down whenever they could to visit him, he also had a dear friend in the Carmelite Secular Order, who came to see him.  Plus many others.  They came from many states.  One special lady was Ellie Yap.  She had met Ray in Baltimore and had heard he was in a nursing home in Waltham, MA.  She knew she had a nephew in MA, but did not know where.  She called her sister and found out that son was living, would you believe, in Waltham, MA, same town.

 

She made arrangements to stay at her nephew’s house in exchange for baby-sitting.  Her nephew would have to take her to the nursing home each night so that she could feed him his supper.  She did this for many months until she had to go back to the Philippines because her Visa was about to expire.  She would also call Ray from the islands occasionally.  Fortunately, two other women took her place when she left to go back to the Philippines.

 

Ray had many friends here and in Boston.  At a certain time Ray had permission from the Order to attend college to get a lawyer’s degree.  He created the Carmelite Legal Aid and helped the poor people in Roxbury.  He lived among them in a third story apartment.  His transportation was a bicycle, which he carried up the three flights of stairs every night so it would not be lost or stolen.  They paid what they could afford, sometimes nothing at all.  Helping the poor was his passion.

 

One can see or sense his honesty, thoughtfulness, patience, sincerity, plus many other virtues.  He was also a good “listener” and you knew it.  He was one extraordinary person and I was proud to be his brother-in-law.  We will never forget the love shown to Father Bruno by all of you.

 

Again, I will repeat “you are all beautiful, kind people, and have made his two sisters very happy”.  As for my brother-in-law, he was a good man, he was a great man.  And above all, he was a holy man.

 

                            

 

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