Brave

When I was a kid, bravery took many forms but it usually was associated with heroes I saw on the television: Mighty Mouse comes to mind. . .and Punky Brewster when she stood up to some school bullies.  Luckily, my school experiences were rich and without much drama or a need for bravery, unless you counted fearing recitation of a poem in front of the class.

Today, thirty some years later, bravery has taken a different face.  It's the face of the aged who is willingly and confidently staring death eye to eye.  It's the face of a ninety-one year old veteran, who still shares stories of life in Italy.  It is this man who has bravely lived life fully despite the loss of a wife and son many years before.  Bravery is waking up each day and still being here.  The gift of a day has become almost a curse with a body that is not willing to cooperate; however, he still opens his eyes to face the day.

To be brave is to confidently know where we are going when this life is over, palms uplifted, to offer ourselves as the sacrifice.  That is bravery.  And I see you, glasses on, prayer book in place, rosary in hands: praying.  All the time praying.  Your very life has become a living prayer.

You know what else is brave?  Trusting the people around you to care for you, to have your best interest at heart.  Brave is accepting their plan for you, even if it is different than your plan.

Brave is putting on your best face and letting your great grandchildren serve you.

Brave is ceasing the moment to instruct and pass on wisdom even though the words are fewer and far between:  "Behave," you told them when they kissed you good-bye the other night.

This is the real face of brave.

And we consider it an honor to love and care for you.