By John Rieping | Given on Wednesday evening, July 26, 2023, in Jay's Chapel in Madera, California | My father would be happy to see you all here. He loved an audience; he also loved many of you as well as Saint Joachim Church. In his youth, he wanted a wife who was more devout than him so she could single-handedly raise their children as Christians and spare him the trouble. But he got more than he bargained for with my mother, and our faith would become central for our whole family when we were growing up. For most of our lives, my father’s faith, hope and love was shown more than spoken. My father quit smoking cigarettes as a Valentine’s Day gift for my mother, and he worked on taming his temper thanks to Catholic retreats. Instead of counting from 1 to 10 to calm himself down, he would sing his favorite hymn, “The Battle Hymn of the Republic,” aloud before reacting. There was a downside though. If he sang the hymn just because he was in a good mood, all of his children would quickly scatter and disappear anyway. We weren’t taking any chances. The Focolare Movement, led locally by the late Father Lupe Sanchez, taught my father ways to live out the gospel message of love. My family would go to monthly Word of Life meetings in the former St. Joachim School kindergarten building, and to week-long, summertime, family retreats called the Mariapolis in the states of Washington or New Mexico. Our vacations always involved road trips or camping, and were often religious. Our biggest adventure brought the family to Vancouver, Canada, for a Mass with Pope John Paul II in 1984. But most of our faith adventures were closer to home. Sometimes the homeless or those in need would approach my father as he cleaned the Saint Joachim Church building or cared for the grass, bushes, and trees around it. Some he referred to the church for help, and to others he also offered work, shelter, and meals himself. My mother welcomed these guests as she would Jesus, and my father would lend money, a bicycle, or other help that almost always would not be returned. But, on rare occasions, people’s lives were turned around. One such man, who had a wife and family, never forgot my dad’s aid, and would periodically deliver boxes of produce to my dad in the subsequent decades even until now. In 2006, my father prayed to God at church after Mass, afraid of an open heart surgery he would have to replace a failing valve. He felt peace when he heard in his thoughts a voice telling him, “He’s given you more time.” He wondered why, but four years later my mother was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease, which would someday take his own life as well. Because he survived that surgery, he was able to care for my mother. Those extra years were a bittersweet gift. Before and after my mother’s death in 2016, my father suffered a dark night of the soul. Yet, simultaneously, he grew the most spiritually – through daily Mass, private prayer, and spiritual reading. He also gained a newfound devotion to the Franciscan saint Padre Pio of Pietrelcina, Italy, one of his many siblings in Christ in Heaven, and he eventually fell in love with a fellow daily Mass-goer, Sharon Caruana, whom he married in 2021. Now he has finished his life's pilgrimage, and even Alzheimer's disease could not rob him of his sense of humor along the way. Four nights before he died, longtime friend Jim Bryan told him, “We love you, Opa.” My dad quipped in reply, “I love me too.” Thank you for coming to celebrate the gift of my father, who I trust is on his way – by God’s grace – to enjoying the company of his spiritual family in Heaven. May God bless you all.
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