An Extraordinary Journey

This year I have made an extraordinary journey with an extraordinary young woman. I have “walked” with Nora Mason (La Greca), the treasured daughter of Rom and Nina, through all the stages of her illness since she was diagnosed with cancer of the colon, then the liver in October 2004. It has been a privilege to accompany her periodically on that journey, from the very first reaction of denial – “I’m not going to be put in a brown box” – to anger –“God has given me these beautiful children, the least he might do is leave me to bring them up”- through to almost a serenity that culminated in the attitude “Well, I just take one day at a time.” 

When I say serenity, I do not mean it in the sense of just a passive resignation. On most Saturdays, I visited Nora for perhaps an hour or so in the beginning then only every two weeks when the intensive chemotherapy began to take its toll, and I was continually amazed at the way she kept everything so normal. She loved to hear news of the school, she was always so interested in people and what they were doing and she loved reading so we had wide-ranging discussions about books and newspaper articles and many other things. Yet at the same time she was so totally realistic about what was happening to her and her first thought was always for her family and what she could do for them. Pete (Maria Gidley) and I were very touched when she asked us to be sponsors for Nicolas and Giulia at their Confirmation in May and it was such a special day. Nora’s strength of purpose was amazing. It was a four-hour ordeal at Homebush but she was determined to be there for her children and with James’ help, she came armed with her medication and her water bottle to see her through.

She used to make her little lists of what she wanted to achieve and put them on the fridge and often she would say “If I could just see Giulia into High School,” or “I would like to just have my 40^th birthday.” But gradually she began to realise that neither of those things would come to be. One thing she did plan and was able to achieve was a much-longed for family holiday at Byron Bay the first week in October. She told me afterwards that even before they went, she knew that things had taken a downward turn but she was determined to have that holiday with her husband and children, and I know now that she realised it would be their last.

From then on, she became gradually weaker and on Tuesday, 22 November, James rang Pete and me and asked us to go to dinner as the doctor had spoken to them that morning and said there would only be weeks left. He wanted us to be there when he told the children. Nora was to have been there too, but she was just too weak to remain and had to be helped back to her bed. It was an emotional and traumatic evening but one poignant memory stays with me from it. As we were trying to console the children, Nina came back from the bedroom and said that Nora wanted to see us both, so Pete and I went in and held her hands and Pete said to her ”Soon you will know everything and we will still know nothing.” Then I said to her “You will have to look after the two of us too, you know,” and although she was almost too weak to voice it, quite audibly she replied with great conviction “I will.”  That was the last thing I ever heard her say. She had invited us to come the following Saturday for afternoon tea to celebrate her 39^th birthday, which would have been on the Friday, but on the following day, about 3.30 pm, I was acutely aware of this inner voice saying “you must go NOW” and it was almost as though I was being propelled there. James greeted me saying “ I have not been able to contact the Parish Priest,” but fortunately Anne McGrath had suggested I ring Bill Johnston that morning and he had given me the right number, so James rang straightaway and Father Bob was there within the half hour. I joined James and the children, Rom and Nina as we gathered round Nora’s bed to join in the responses as Father Bob administered the Last Sacraments. Just as he finished the final blessing, he looked down at her, then turned to the family and said “She’s gone.”  It was an unforgettable moment.  Her courageous battle had ended and her brave soul was at peace.

Recently I suddenly realised I had not made a retreat this year, then on reflection, and looking back over the year, I thought that in accompanying Nora on this incredible journey, I have gained more that I ever could from a retreat. Her courage, her growing wisdom, her realism and honesty, her passionate concern for her family have been an ongoing source of inspiration for me. As you have all been so supportive of Roma and Nina and so interested in your enquiries for Nora over these months, I felt I would like to share something of the journey with you. She has kept her promise by looking after me in so many ways and even as I was helping James look up things for the Funeral Mass booklet, I lost a quote that is very dear to me and I thought would help James, but I simply could not find it anywhere. After much fruitless searching, I confided it to Nora and forgot all about it. Then, in looking for something else, it fell out of my Jerusalem Bible and both James and I felt it was a direct message from Nora:

                                    All has been given. The anguish is stilled.

                                                     Death fulfilled.

                                           How my soul weighs light.

                                     My spirit is given to God, in His care,

                                        My heart is pure as mountain air.

                                                  Everything is bright.

 

 Margaret McKay, RSCJ