Saying "yes" to life

 

Saturday 25th March 2023: A talk about Ali's 'yes' to life.

The first thing I recall as having learnt from Ali was expressed in a mere seven words:  "Mary said 'yes' and saved the world."   Ali said this to me in July 1989 as we returned to England from the shrine of Lourdes in France, a momentous trip which changed both of our lives.  Though raised a Catholic I really didn't understand the role of Mary and her importance, and it was the (then) non-Catholic Ali who taught me.   Yes, Jesus is the Saviour, and he is the sole Saviour of the world.  But if it had not been for Mary's "yes" at the Annunciation, we would not have had a Saviour, and her "yes" was necessary for the salvation of the world.  Those seven words of Ali's made a profound impression on me.  I have always remembered them.

Because of Ali's willingness to say 'yes,' the date of 22nd March, nearly 40 years ago,  became one of special significance for her.  It was a day that Ali always remembered privately as I do today.  There are other things about Ali that were private during her lifetime that she always expected me to make known after her death.    I'll be talking a little about the significance of 22nd March at a talk at St Mary's Church, Helston in Cornwall this coming Saturday 25th March.  It is a privilege to be able to talk about Ali's "yes"  on Saturday's great feast of the Annunciation, when Mary's "yes" is celebrated.

Ali's anniversary and an Indian connection

Ali, pictured with Koteswari in January 2006,
had great love for 'her' children in India.

The ninth anniversary of Ali's death falls, as it does each year, on the feast of the great "Apostle of the Indies," St Francis Xavier.  He died 461 years before Ali, on 3rd December 1552, and the shrine with his incorrupt body is in Goa, India.  

I had hoped to have an Introduction to Ali ready for publication by this ninth anniversary of Ali's passing to eternal life, and I regret that it has still not emerged.  Please God, it will be published before next year's tenth anniversary so that others will become aware of Ali's extraordinary life.  Others will then be able to consider whether Ali, who had a great love for India and its "poorest of the poor" people, might be regarded as exceptional a saint as St Francis Xavier.  

St Francis Xavier was canonised 70 years after his death, in 1622, and today he is known and loved by millions in India and around the world. It is my conviction that Ali is similarly destined to be known and loved by millions, and I think that, just as she was greatly loved by "her" children in India, especially those in Andhra Pradesh and Tamil Nadu, countless numbers of people - in India and throughout the world - will come to know and love her. 

Ali, happy to be with her children in India, in January 2003

A remembrance

A birthday in Sri Lanka

Ali with birthday cards in Colombo, Sri Lanka 8 January 1992

30 years ago Ali celebrated her birthday in Colombo, Sri Lanka - on her last full day there before returning home to England.  

During the past three weeks I have been recalling the trip Ali and I made with our good friend, Ray McGuinness, to India, where we stayed in the cities then known as Calcutta and Madras, before arriving on New Year's Day in Sri Lanka where we visited a few places in the south.  I had hoped to write about aspects of the trip during recent weeks, but computer/scanning problems prevented this.  I have at least been able to scan a couple of photos for now.

The highlight of the trip was meeting Sriyanee, whom Ali had been sponsoring for a few years and was now to meet for the first time.  Ali had learnt Sinhala so that she could converse with and write to Sriyanee.  I hope to write more about Ali's meeting with Sriyanee and about the trip another time.

Ali with Sriyanee 6 January 1992

The 8th vigil

The vigil of 2 Dec 2021

As the weeks of November pass each year, with the nights starting earlier and getting much colder, my thoughts return to those November weeks of 2013. While the anniversary of Ali's passing to eternal life falls on 3 December,  it is the weeks and days before that date that I remember the most, and in particular that last night of 2-3 December. 

During those last days Ali's bedroom was illuminated by candles, rather than the harsher glare of electric light.  And each year since then, on the night of 2-3 December, I keep a candlelight vigil in Ali's bedroom.  It is a time for memories, reflection and prayer.

I'm conscious that this blog has said very little about Ali, even though it is now eight years since she died.  Please God, by this time next year, an introduction to Ali, describing what was so extraordinary about her will have been published.  For now, I will just reproduce what I said about Ali's heroic death in a presentation I gave the year after she died.  

Ali died at home on the morning of Tuesday 3 December.  She lost her swallow reflex on the Sunday night.  So from then, she could no longer take even small drops of liquid to drink; or liquid morphine for pain.  She would generally wake up for short periods, with pain coming soon after she was awake.  

About 8pm on the Monday night, after being awake for an hour or so, the pain was so extreme she wanted me to call the out-of-hours doctor.  It was known that if she called the out-of-hours service, Ali would receive an injection of diamorphine which she duly received and it zonked her out in seconds.  Knowing that she hadn’t had liquids for nearly 24 hours, and expecting that the diamorphine would last some time, it seemed to me that Ali might die without waking up again.

I was surprised, then, when Ali woke up at 1am.   She could say little – a few words at a time.  Often she would respond just 'yes' or 'no' to my questions.   It was soon clear that she was in pain. 

-  Do you have pain? "Yes."  -  Is it very bad?  "Yes." - Do you want me to call the doctor to give you something?  "No."   I frequently asked her if she wanted me to call the doctor to help with the pain. She always said "no".  I would ask:  - Are you happy?  She always said, and you could read it in her eyes: "Yes!" 

Ali once said that our life in the world is like that of an unborn child.   In a way ,we are unborn.  The unborn child knows only the womb.  He or she doesn’t know the marvellous world that lies beyond the womb. The suffering of his mother accompanies the child into the world – and it is traumatic for the child.  The world, Ali said, is like a mother’s womb.  It is a preparation for what lies beyond.  What lies beyond is so much beyond our imagination, just as the world is beyond the imagination of a child in the womb.  Just as suffering accompanies our entrance into the world, so it is fitting that it accompanies our exit from the world.  We prepare for what lies beyond.

I am convinced that Ali didn’t ask me to call the out-of-hours doctor again, because she knew that if she received another injection of diamorphine she would be zonked out for the rest of her journey into the next world.  She didn’t want that.   She wasn’t clinging on to life, afraid to let go – the sentence she said more than any other in her last weeks and days  was “I want to go home.”  She was anticipating her eternal destiny – but she knew she wanted to take with her as much as she could.  And what can we take with us?  Not material goods – but  the treasures of our good actions, our prayers, our suffering,  our love.

How precious were those last hours of Ali's life!  The good deed she performed then, contributing to the treasures she took with her, was a final lesson to me - and, through me, to you and others - how to die with real dignity and courage.  She prayed - expressing sorrow for the things she got wrong in life - and offered up her suffering to God, in loving gratitude for the life she had been given, and for  all His love and mercies. 

Ali amassed all the treasures she could of good deeds, prayers, suffering and love - while she had the opportunity to do so.  And for some silly reason she loved me and wanted to spend as much time as she could with me. 

 So she didn’t want me to call the doctor to zonk her out. She wanted to be sat upright in the bed – which ensured that she would live longer – and for me to hold her.  I encouraged her as best I could. We prayed.  Her body gradually wound down in a way I had never experienced before and eventually she lost all ability to communicate.. I believe though that she remained conscious, and could hear the ongoing encouragement and prayers, until the end.   Ali died at 8:40 in the morning.

She could have died easily and painlessly, but chose a far happier death of suffering with great love.

As I said [earlier in the talk], I’m a wimp.  But I hope I can learn from Ali to be willing to suffer lovingly during life and especially at the end of my life.

Ali was small - four foot something and getting smaller as her spine collapsed. But she walked head and shoulders above us all.

Claire Costa before she was 18

Ali with 6 year old Claire Costa in 2009

It is thanks to her Auntie Linda that Claire Costa got to know Ali.  On a trip to the United States in the 1970s Ali met and subsequently developed a close friendship with Linda Singleton who, like Ali, was born with spina bifida.  

Ali (right) with Linda (left) and her mom, Carolyn, and sister, Carol, behind.

Linda's early death in 1984 was a great loss for Ali and she was pleased to keep in touch with Linda's mom, Carolyn.   Some time after Carolyn's death in 1993 Ali very happily renewed contact with Linda's younger sister, Carol, who was to marry Christopher Costa and in due course give birth to Claire on that happy day 18 years ago today. 

In June 2009, just a few weeks after Claire's 6th birthday, Ali and I were able to spend a few days with Carol, Christopher and Claire while visiting their home town of Colorado Springs. 

Ali with Christopher and Carol Costa and six year old Claire

Carol with Ali

Ali had not seen Carol for some years and it meant much to her to see her again.  Given her relationship with Linda, Carol was like a younger sister to Ali and she looked forward to meeting Christopher and Claire, who was especially delightful. 

One day, we took a trip together to Pikes Peak, which is the highest summit of the southern Front Range of the Rocky Mountains, and a place of spectacular views.  It is usually mild weather in June, but on that day (5th June 2009) it was exceptionally cold, with more snow than is usually found in January or February,  as the media reported.  It was quite treacherous underfoot and Ali wasn't the only one to stay in the car.  But Claire and I were determined to have our photo taken at the Pikes Peak sign!

Ali, with Claire and Christopher visible, at Pikes Peak

Claire and Colin freezing at the summit (5 June 2009)

Ali was always keen to hear how Claire was getting on and would have been pleased to see the fine young woman she is today.  Happy 18th birthday Claire! 

Photo taken at (almost) 18.  Happy Birthday Claire!

"Such sweet joy and consolation"

Easter Sunday morning 1991:  Ali with Richard McIlkenny

30 years ago, on Easter Sunday morning (31 March) 1991, Ali became a Catholic after a journey of faith that she described as "long and tortuous." 

When we arrived early at the Church of St John Payne, Greenstead, Colchester, Ali was feeling very nervous, but said afterwards that her nerves suddenly disappeared when she had the surprise and "overwhelming joy" of seeing someone she had not anticipated seeing on that day: Richard McIlkenny, who was  one of the "Birmingham Six,"  and spent more than 16 years in prison after being wrongly convicted of an IRA pub bombing that killed 21 people and injured 182. He and the other five wrongly imprisoned men, had had their convictions overturned and gained their freedom just two weeks earlier on 14 March 1991. 

Ali got to know Richard in 1987-88, after she wrote in response to a letter of his, published in a newspaper, in which he had said that while he was unjustly imprisoned, the injustice against him did not compare with the injustice against the unborn whose lives are taken by abortion. They then corresponded frequently and Ali met Richard several times in prison.  Ali had told him that she was being received into the Church that morning, but had no expectation whatsoever that he would turn up - an extraordinary act of generosity on his first Easter of freedom since 1974. 

Ali with Richard and friends Brian Collins (left) and Ray McGuinness

The next day Ali wrote about her reception into the Church on that Easter Sunday morning, when she was confirmed and made her First Holy Communion:

"The service itself I remember clearly, but I was in a kind of daze.  I recall being so near Jesus my prayers stopped using words and became simply a looking at and adoring of Jesus.

When I was confirmed I felt somehow that I was nothing but a soul (rather a devastating transformation for one who only a few years ago believed she had been conceived without a soul). I thought of it maybe like when [a priest] gives a blessing, but a blessing the touch of which is permanently imprinted upon one's soul, giving it a "character" which cannot be effaced....

Now I should go on to describe taking communion, but I find that just as I need words most they desert me! Maybe there are no words because it's beyond words, beyond feelings, maybe even beyond knowledge as such.  Sometimes thanks seem inadequate even for earthly gifts - how much more so for this ultimate gift.  As in Lourdes, maybe the closest I can get is to explain that I was no longer praying but rather I became a prayer....

I am a Catholic now; such sweet joy and consolation....."

Easter Sunday morning (4 April) 2021