Travel well

Fr. Roger....what can I say? For the last days I've been wanting to write something, but nothing I could think of seemed adequate.

I remember- Spirit's Runway, a safe place for teens to hang out to talk or be listened to, to meet friends. A place where, if you wanted something out of the religious articles case but didn't have money, Roger would give it away.

I remember wondering what we could get him for Christmas - and deciding it didn't matter because as soon as he saw someone who needed it more, whatever it was, it would be theirs.

I remember midnight Mass, every Saturday, in the basement of the church. We loved it. We felt welcomed and at home.

I remember - he couldn't find the vows we had written for our wedding. He couldn't find them just minutes before the wedding.

I remember his Christmas letters, full of his poetic and love-full way of looking at the world.

I remember the great love this "Priest of Jesus" had for God. And how he made faith and hope and miracles sound real and plausible in this skeptical, hard world.

This summer I was told that the Lakota people don't have a word for "goodbye". Instead they say "Travel well."

I don't think that Roger is all that far away. So, no final "goodbye" to Fr. Roger Mollison.
But, "Travel well, I can't wait to see you again. I love you!"