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Monday, October 23, 2017


October 23, 2017

Hey, it is more than a month that has gone by already and lots of things to share. Well, let’s get started. On the 18th of Sept. I collected my new passport. Hooray. Next is to get to Home Affairs to have my permanent residence stamped in my new passport. I dread it. It probably means the whole blessed day. But….. I also went to the Catholic Bookshop and picked up 5 copies is The Joy of the Gospel, and Laudato Si, the two latest encyclicals of Pope Francis for the novices because I will be giving them classes on those two in November.

I did some home and hospital visiting that week and wound up with two masses on the 23rd, one for the postulants (the like to sing and me too) 6am, and an evening mass at 5:30pm at a mostly Indian parish. They are nice because the appreciate my jokes.

I wanted to take Shirley to lunch for her birthday (long past, Aug. 17) on the 28th, but she got terribly sick and fell down (She was 83 then) and was taken to the hospital by her son. She was bleeding internally and they couldn’t find it. But, after some time, a few days, the bleeding stopped by itself. The scan showed no sign of anything ever being wrong. We had been putting off her birthday lunch for at least three of four times so I told her that next week Friday, in October now, either she is well enough to let me take her for a birthday lunch or we just forget the birthday this year and catch it next year. She agreed to come for the lunch. We both love curry and it was so delicious that she ordered a sea food curry to take home with her as well.

The day before, on the 5th of Oct. a friend had organized to take me to one of his friends at a further away Home affairs office. Ha. We left at about 10am, got there at about 11:10, and by 11:50 we were finished, including an application for a new South African ID (mine is shredding). Holy Moses. A miracle. Others could hardly believe my luck. Thanks to those who organized it. I felt a bit ashamed when I saw all the others there, some mothers nursing babies, waiting and waiting, but my shame wasn’t powerful enough to stop me from being the favoured one that day.

Earlier in the week, on the 2nd, I took the car to Urban Radio, because they had installed the alarm system, and the automatic locking mechanism, after the car had been broken into twice. The automatic locking mechanism stopped working so one had to lock by hand. They discovered that the small motor that operated the locks was dead so they replaced it without and argument since I had the original receipt with me. It was only a few months old.

On Sunday, the 8th of Oct. I took the place of one of the neighboring priests who was in the hospital. At Mass, we celebrated a 25th anniversary of Marriage of a couple, a 13th birthday of a young lady, and then, after the Mass and Brunch at the 25th anniversary couple’s, I went back to Savannah Park to join in the celebration of the marriage of Mark and Dolly, parishioners of Savannah Park. The marriage was performed by the real parish priest (not by me, the mercenary).

I helped out with confessions at St. John’s parish (the Indian parish) as people were getting ready to be confirmed and wanted to be in good spiritual shape.

On Saturday I had the closing Mass of the Catholic Schools Office at 10am. The run courses (some of which I give) during the year, to increase and deepen their knowledge of the faith.  I also had another evening Mass at St. John’s parish, and got invited by my friends Estie and Rami to come and have supper with them. MMMM delicious. Curry.

Somewhere in there, one Sunday, there was a terrible storm in Durban, like a mini-Irma. On the main highway going down the coast, cars were underwater up to their roofs. In the low lying areas of town, it was the same. Cars washed away, people drowning in the rushing water, rushing down the street and at the bottom, no place to go but to get caught in the water running from the side and swept away. Holy Moses. There was also a terrible wind that destroyed buildings and tore off roofs, and damaged many homes. Sink holes that swallowed up cars. A nightmare. And then it was over. We here at our place felt the wind but no damage. However in the township next to us, there was plenty of wind and water damage.

On the 15th of October, the team that is going to help us get the church built (project manager, fund-raising committee, The guys who do the measuring, the architect, and the priest who is helping us by contacting all his friends, were there to meet the community and explain that they were willing to help but that the community had to help in its way too. Tickets had been printed for a dinner dance to start the ball rolling, R150  covering a meal, music, healthy exercise (dancing), and for a good cause. A normal restaurant will charge more than that just for the meal so it is a good deal, but out of the generosity of one of the team who owns the restaurant which will be the venue. I took ten tickets.

Tuesday, 17th, we had 7 bishops and a host of volunteers to pack food parcels for starving children here in KZN. They discovered that there are close to half a million kids who go to bed every night hungry. I stayed for a while, helping with the packing, but then left to attend a lecture in town, I was told that they packed 10,000 food parcels that day.

I had lunch with a friend from Germany at a beautiful restaurant which overlooks  trees, streams, flowers, etc. Helps the digestion. He works for Pfizer, the pharmaceutical firm, and because of the extreme pressure of work, when he gets a chance, he comes down here for a break and for some nicer weather and the sea. That was on Thursday the 19th.

 On the 20th, my friend and mechanic, Musa, checked my car to see if all was well (it hasn’t been checked since the accident back in June) and, after tightening up a few loose things, he gave it a thumbs up.

Saturday, the 21st. was a very interesting day. I was to take a funeral at 11am at the mother church from our branch at Savannah Park. I like to be a bit early just to make sure. I was there by 10:20. I found ladies cleaning the church who knew nothing about a funeral. Hmmmm. The sacristy was open but I couldn’t find any books or hosts or wine or whatever. Eventually I found a chalice and one big host  but there was not water or wine or small host. By this time it was almost 10:45. So I told them I was going back to the Monastery to fetch my things (always have some water and wine and hosts and chalice, etc.) realizing that I should have done that in the first place. By the time I got back it was 5 past eleven and the casket had already been taken into the church. But then, lo and behold, another hearse pitches up and disgorges another casket. Now what. Two funerals. I use my wine and water and holy water because there isn’t any at the parish but, thank God, the catechist is there. So we go to plan B. He know who is in the one casket and I know who is in the other so we just forge ahead. I was proud of our small but powerful choir from Savannah Park. There can never be a service without singing.

After the Mass, we go to the cemetery. There is no road near the graveside, so the old men have to carry the coffin on a very rough hilly and pot-holey ground for about a football field away.  Some day I will describe how an African is buried, but I will jump over that for now.

After the filling in of the grave we all go to the house for a meal and to meet some of the family of the deceased. I finally came home late in the afternoon and I am beat.

But, all this time, I say Mass every morning at the hospital and do lots of things like cutting the grass with the weed eater so the time is filled in completely. Since I had 10 tickets, I started to email, what’s app, and sms people and managed to sell all ten.

Now it is Sunday, yesterday, the 22nd of October. I had two masses in Zulu, one at 8am at Savannah Park, and another at 11:30 at the Pinetown parish, not far away.

After mass at S. P. I debate whether I should go home for a bit or go straight to the other church. I decide to go to the church. I look at my watch and I think it says 10:45. There are still lots of cars from the previous mass filling the parking lot and I park mine in one of the few empty places.  I head for the sacristy and start looking for the mass books in Zulu and can’t find them. Also I am worried again about the sacred vessels, water and wine and tabernacle key, etc. Not it is 10 past 11 (or so I think). At 25 past 11 (or so I think) I am panicing, and am asking were are things and were are the people who are supposed to be running the show. Ha. They say, Father, it is only 25 past 10. You are more than an hour early. Ha. Old bloody age.

Although the sacristan for the English Mass told me that there were not so many Zulus at the Zulu mass, I found the church to be pretty full, and, of course, the music was, as always, outstanding.

After Mass, it was about 1pm (I missed lunch at our house which is at 12 noon on Sunday), so I gave in to temptation and drove by the McDonald’s on the way home and took with me a Quarter Pounder with Cheese. Ha. Decadence.

I was tired and sat in my recliner chair for a while trying to decide what to do next. I wanted to visit a sister I know who had a stroke and was learning how to walk again. I had seen her twice in the hospital and heard that she had been discharged. When I phone her convent, I was told that she was taken to their home quite far away for recuperation. In the neighbourhood, was a friend who had said that she would take a ticket for the dinner dance so I phoned and told her I would bring the ticket. As it turned out, her daughter and son-in-law also took two tickets. Since I was on the way to that part of town, I contacted another friend and went over to his house. After catching up on each other’s lives, he said that he would take 4 tickets. Hey, great! His sister, who live clear the other side of town also had said that she wanted some tickets so we phone her and told her I would be coming. I had left home at about 2:30pm and got to her house at 7pm (on the road the whole time.). She, praise the Lord, took 6 tickets. By this time I was poohed out and headed for home and was in bed by 9:30 to be up at 4am.

Today, after Mass at the hospital, I contacted some more people and wound up selling another 7 tickets. Good day.

I filled the back of the car (seats down) with the old clothes that we will take with us to the village near Mthatha and filled the tank with petrol and we are ready to head for Mthatha (a six hour drive with my little thing) first thing in the morning,after Mass at the hospital and breakfast.

Whew, why do I wait so long to keep the blog updated. Now I have to do some packing. Good night. Cas

Saturday, September 30, 2017


Sept. 30. 2017

On Monday, Sept. 18th, I went to the US Consulate and picked up my new US passport. Holy Moses, the security to get into the place is intimidating. It kind of puts me off. I am a US citizen and it is difficult for me to get in. I wonder how it is for non-US citizens. I sometimes get the impression that the standard mindset of the US staff at consulates around the world is that everyone who applies for a visa is a potential thief, terrorist, scam artist, of something else bad, and they are sometimes treated as though it is true. I get angry.

I first went to the Paulines (Catholic Bookshop) and picked up 5 copies each of the two encyclicals by Pope Francis, “the Joy of the Gospel” and “ Laudato si (about our common home, mother earth)”. I will be having classes with the novices in November and I want them to read and study these documents (as far as I am concerned, they would be required reading in my course on what it means to be a Christian, 101) so that when we have a closer look at them ( I get once class of one hour to introduce them to them), I don’t want to have to waste time starting from scratch.  I came back and did some work in the garden to get out of the house. The weather has been really funny, cold, hot, cold, hot. Now rainy.

Tuesday I went to Rajes, our Travel Agent to check on whether she could have her friend in Home Affairs give some advice as to how and where to go to  to get my Permanent Residence transferred from my old passport to my new one. She promised to contact him.

Wednesday I attended a function at the Denis Hurley Center which was a tribute to Msgr. Paul Nadal, blessing a garden inside the center in his name as he is a lover of gardens and the great outdoors.

Mpume’s son, Scott (Mpume is one of our house mothers) was told to leave school because of some alleged misbehaviour. No warning, no written letter to his mother (unless he hid it). Well it is some weeks now that he hasn’t been to school and exams are coming up and I felt that it is very unjust, the whole procedure and lack of proper protocol. He will definitely flunk as he is a kind of borderline student, but a hard worker. And that means he will probably want to drop out of school. Even if he is guilty of something, it is not the proper procedure and is not fair. I asked Mpume to bring whatever papers she had in this regard and all she had was the usual handout to parents explaining the rules and regulations of the school. No warning, No letter to her. Hmmm. So I promised to talk to the person who heads the Catholic schools office on her behalf. That was Thursday.

On Friday, I helped a lady to pay her rent and water bill before she got thrown out of her room. I used the money that you guys send to help people who are struggling. I also went to visit a Sr. Michael Mdluli who fell and hit her head and then had a stroke and wasn’t talking or able to use her one side. So they said. Clairwood Hospital. I usually wear my collar when I go to a hospital just to remind the administration who my boss is and don’t give me a hard time. I can’t always go during visiting hours, and I don’t want to go at that time since we may have some confidential stuff to deal with (Confession or communion or just praying).

Saturday, 23rd, I had Mass with 2 CPS postulants. It is always a picker upper because they prepare well and sing a lot and I can join in. Then I went for a lunch at a family gathering at Mike Pillay’s house. Met lots of people, many of whom have long ago given up on Church for one reason or another. So we talk about this and that often some kind of churchy question pops up and the ice has been broken so that can feel free to ask knowing that they won’t be blown out of the water for asking a dumb question or revealing that it has been 200 yrs. Since they last went to church. Ha. I call it “ Informal Evangelization”. Then I had a 5:30 evening Mass at an Indian parish (it gives me a chance, since it is in English, to tell a couple of jokes) and, after Mass, visited a friend who, being a dibetic, had his right foot amputated, and now has to go for dialysis. Not good. His wife prepared some nice Briyani. Always a plus.

Sunday, was the usual 8am Zulu Mass at Savannah Park followed by a lot of studying to prepare for my November classes. It’s coming.

Monday was a national holiday, Heritage Day (Afrikaans, English, Portugese, German, Swiss, French, Greek, Zulu, Xhosa, Venda, Sotho, American ?, ) when everyone remembers his or her heritage. I thought that my heritage was my faith. Because I really believe in the Trinity, Jesus, his crucifixion and resurrection, and all the values that he stood up for, I thanked God for this gift which I didn’t deserve and didn’t work for. It was just dropped in my lap and has certainly shaped and formed my life. I don’t know where I would be without it.

Tuesday, 26th, I tried three places to get a cover for my cell phone so I don’t scratch it or mess it up some other way but no luck. So I had to be satisfied to just pick up some copy paper.

Wednesday, I was reminded by a message on the cell phone that I had run out of data. So I used the computer and the internet to get some more data and top up my air time as well.

Thursday, 28th, I was supposed to take my friend Shirley for lunch. She is 83 and has been a friend for 50 yrs. When it is my birthday, she takes me for a meal, and when it is her birthday, I take her for a meal. However, her son Peter phoned me on Wed. that she had fallen and was not well and he had to take her to the hospital. It turns out, as I found out later, that she had been bleeding internally, and when there wasn’t much blood left circulating any more, and the blood pressure was down, down, down, she just collapsed. She went for lots of scans and colonoscopy etc. to find out where the bleeding was and it turns out, it seems, that it healed itself as there was no sign indicating that there had been a bleed, so she is on the mend again, but is taking medicine to build up her blood. She looks a bit pale but she is much better.

In the meantime, since I was to take her for lunch that day, and it was to a place I really wanted to see, I got Mike Pillay to come with me and we had a fantastic curry meal. I usually take a doggie bag, but this time, I really garbaged up. Ha. Then I had been invited for supper by another family (the wife/mother left the ANC in disgust. She was the director of Pinetown Child Welfare Society, a social worker, and ANC activist, but now retired. I also baptized their 49 yrs. Old son, Matthew, who was letting everyone in the restaurant that it was his birthday. It was humorous. But I didn’t have room for another huge meal so I just had two starters and a glass of wine. I got home a bit later than I intended and, as I expected, had acid reflux, and had to keep twisting and turning. I don’t like to eat too late for that reason. I guess it is just old age stuff.

Friday, 29th, I popped in for a long visit with Shirley and she is better by a long shot. So we made a plan to catch up on that meal next Friday.  In the meantime, I went back to Rajes to find out if she had made contact with her friend at Home Affairs. She had. He says to come to him and he will fix it. Hooray. Home Affairs in like lining up to go to the Bermuda Triangle. You may never be seen again. Ha. Rajes’ husband will take me to him next week sometime, I hope.

Saturday, today, I printed a bunch of copies of a little brochure on St. Therese of Lisieux for tomorrow, as it is our church’s feast. It took most of the morning.  In the afternoon, I visited a priest friend who was taken to the hospital by another friend with a very painful foot and swollen leg. He is scared because he says that he has poor circulation in his extremities and they told him that they may have to amputate his left foot. Holy Moses. I would also be scared. So we prayed together for a bit asking God to be merciful and, if need be, to give him the courage to bite the bullet, have it done, and get on with life.

There is no time to be bored around here. Always something. I am grateful that I still have the health to move around and not be forced, like Macarius, who has macular degeneration and can barely see, to sit at home being bored stiff. So, tomorrow, we will celebrate our parish feast day. I am waiting to see what the people will have prepared. Tonight I will sleep like a stone since the weather is rainy and cold and I really appreciate my two blankets.  I also managed to warm up the weed eater which had been sitting idle for a couple of months now. She was excited to be brought back to life so we went out and did a bit of grass cutting just to make her feel good.

Hey, it is getting close to my bed time so I will say, good night, and God bless you abundantly in this coming week. Love and peace, Cas.

Saturday, September 16, 2017

Sept. 16, 2017
    I just wrote this note to those whom I met in Johannesburg these last two weeks. There were a few days of retreat stuck in between.

My time in Joburg and environs ended when I was taken to the plane by a longtime friend, Kendal. That was on Tuesday, Sept. 12. ( I had arrived on Wednesday, Sept. 6th and was picked up by my friend Phola at the Joburg airport and whisked off to her place in Centurion.). The plane returning to Durban arrived on time at 2pm and I was met by another old friend and confrere, Bishop Paul Khumalo. He took me back to Mariannhill where I grabbed my swimming suit and put all my stuff into my little Hyundai and drove down the South Coast to Coolock House, about 10 or so km. before Port Shepstone. I jumped into a retreat that had started on Sunday and joined them for the rest of the week and only came back today, Saturday. Because I was busy having a look at my spiritual and other life, I put off writing this till I finished the retreat. So here it is.
     The trip was made possible by Nhlanhla and Phola Mabaso. We were in exile together and later, I was invited to bind them in marriage. This we did about 7 yrs. ago, half in Port Elizabeth at the home of Tixie Mabizela, Phola's mom, and later, the second instalment, in Pretoria at the home of Zoda Mabaso, Hhanhla's mom whom I knew from the Grail. They offered to pay for my airfare and didn't put any strings on my time in Joburg. I can't thank them enough as they made possible an incredible week. 
     I hung around their place on Thursday morning but Phola had left her car to be available for me. It took me till noon to muster up the courage to get into her car and drive my way out of their complex and head for Pretoria, to visit an old friend, Paul Knox (we first met in 1966 in Waterkloof Ridge where Mariannhill had a study house. He was 14yrs. old at the time. Now he is an old man, but not as old as me). His son, Benoit, also came over to his office for a bite to eat for lunch. I think I had last say him as a high schooler or even before that. He now is in the publishing business and the proud grandfather showed me the picture of his newborn baby. I managed to find my way back to the complex. There was a problem with the security and when the guard asked me for my ID, I told him, 35 11 28  5193 18 4. Ha. He recognized the 35 (1935) and gave me a back handed compliment. He said, Hey, Mkhulu, are you still driving. How!, you are strong. Ha. He doesn't know that for me driving is like breathing.
     Phola, Nhlanhla, Lihle and Ma batho (?) had supper together and by 8:30 all were heading for bed. 
     Friday, Nhlanhla had organized a meeting with an old comrade, Refiloe Mudimu, who wanted to meet me after not seeing each other for years and years. We had lunch together in Pretoria, and he praised and thanked me for the help he received from me when we were together in exile in Zimbabwe and Zabmia. He told me of things that I did that were a big help to him but that I had totally forgotten. We reminisced about those days and he explained that, on his return, among other things, he had been transferred from the SANDF to the navy as an admiral. But it was an office job, not at sea, and he was able to help and shape many young sailors, especially for disadvantaged backgrounds, fitting them to be the leaders of the next generation. I was touched. He is now retired and living at home.
    Then, Kanyo Gqulu came with Edwin's wife, Desiree, to take me off to Kanyo's place for an party later that night, supported by a nice braai vleis. Kanyo and his friend (they might as well be joined at the hip) Edwim Smith (As Xhosa as they come) wanted me to spend some time with them. We were involved in the struggle before being forced, one way or the other, into exile. Again, they  told tales of my helping them that had gone out of my head. I was getting embarrassed. They had other friends who had also come to meet this guy, Hlathi, priest, comrade, friend, etc. Both Kanyo and Edwin managed to get bursaries to universities (they are called colleges in the States) that helped them to get where they are today. I told them that I was reminded of the story from the gospel where the sower went out to sow his seed. The seed fell all over the place, and some of it also fell on good soil, them, and bore rich fruit. Among the people there at that gathering/party/braai vleis was a Mr. Gugi who now teaches at a university in New York. I know his father who was a playright and who used his skill in producing plays, that he was able, through their acting out, to give therapy to some of the kids who had been traumatized by the atrocities of the war that they had seen. They had become almost autistic. But, with Gugi's help, they began to talk and interact with others again.
    The party went on till quite late (afte 1pm. My usual bedtime, at the latest, is 10pm). Ha. Then Edwin and his wife took me off to their place in Hatfield Pretoria where they both live and work. It was 1:30 pm before we got to bed so I slept my usual 6 hrs. and got up at 7am. Desiree, his wife, got up shortly after and we had time to get to know each other before Edwin started stirring, quite a bit later. Edwin had just recently found his seriously diabetic son dead in his room and has still not been able to be totally recovered, if he ever will. The bond between him and his son was strong, and the paid was terrible at the loss. We also reminisced about our time together before exile, during exile, and post exile. Again, I was praised for things I had forgotten or never thought to remember. 
     On Saturday, after re-connecting with each other, Edwin took me to see another friend, Mandy Gilder. I had met Mandy in exile in Bulawayo, and was the one who performed the wedding ceremony for her and her husband Barry. Mandy was nominally a Presbetyrian from Botswana, Barry was Jewish from Joburg, and the marriage was performed by an American CAtholic priest, chaplain to the ANC. How's that for something exciting. 
    Unfortunately, a few years ago, Barry decided to leave the marriage and has had several partners since then and Mandy is still hurting from this but has been baptized and has put everything in God's hands. We met one of Mandy's daughters and her husband and also looked back at where life had taken us. Edwin had to head back home and shortly after, Mandy took me back to PHola and Nhlanhla for the rest of Saturday night.
    Sunday, Nhlanhla went out for his therapeutic golf and Phola and I went to the hospital to visit a dear friend, Ellie, who had had Meningitis and had recovered from it but was now suffering from other things that put her in an almost comatose state. Ellie's parents came from Moshe in Tanzania to be with her and we all prayed hard and stormed heaven on her behalf reminding God that his son Jesus had promised that anything you ask in my name I will will give you. Not like asking to win the jackpot or a new Mercedes. NOthing frivolous. So we hope that it is in Gods' good graces to help Ellie out of this situation and allow her to get back to her family and her two sons and husband. 
    Then we went back to the house and had a home mass with the family and friends. Wow. I was surprised. There were between 40 and 50 people there. We also celebrated the 10th birthday of one of Ellie and Dumisani's sons. We shared our reflections on the readings for the day which gave us a direction that God would like us to go in for the coming week.
    The mass was quite late and by the time everyone had been fed and had visited everyone else, it was dark and people began to  head for home. Phola, NHlanhla and I started the clean up and did the dishes and general cleaning up and it was almost 10pm when we finished. Poor Phola had to catch an early flight to Mthatha for a meeting on Monday so she didn't get much sleep. We said goodbye to each other before she left at 4:30 Monday morning to catch a 6am flight to Mthatha. 
     Nhanhla had a busy day so I chilled out till he picked me up at about 4:30 and took me to the Bismarck's in Joburg. I have known Basil and Margaret for years now. Margaret is from Zambia and most of her brothers and sisters were in our youth group when I was in Zambia in Kabwe from '72 to '77. Margaret lost her kidneys way back then and has had several transplants. All had been going well but then after several falls, there were setbacks and the recovery is very slow.
We spent the evening together and then, in the morning, Kendal, the son-in-law of Basil and Margaret, took me to the airport to catch the flight back to Durban.
    Now, the point of the story is to thank all of you for your input into my life as a priest and as a friend. I don't think that you would really be able to understand how much faith and inspiration I get from you when I see all the ups and down and challenges and hurts that you have to deal with. I am inspired and say thank you for the friendship that has meant so much to me.
     I know that for some of you, God is a bit remote, or so it seems, but I smilingly see myself as a kind of suggogate God connection. Ha. Some think that I have a direct line to the Boss up there. Don't I wish.
    I love you all and again say thanks to you all for a very rich and satisfying week, especially to Phola and Nhlanhla for making it possible.
Love and Peace, Cas.

Tuesday, September 12, 2017


It Is Sept. 3, 2017,

     There has been a lot of water over the dam since I last entered anything in the blog. When I checked my Blog Site, I discovered that my last entry was July 11th.

During July, things were pretty normal. Mass at the hospital every morning, Mon thru Fri, ; hearing confessions of retreatants; a second baptism of a couple whom I married two years ago; talks with the guys who are repairing my vehicle (how long, O Lord, how Long), but I can’t complain because they are doing this much more cheaply than anyone else could do it; the usual Sunday masses at Savannah Park ( a nice but small Zulu community, with a few others for whom English is their preferred language, so I say part of the Mass in Zulu and part in English to give everyone recognition.

One of the doctors who started at St. Marys hospital in the early 50’s, passed away. She was 92 (Dr. Gearing) A marvellous woman. A Gynecologist, a Jungian Psychologist, A harpist, a painter, and a raiser of 8 or 9 children, and the wife of Dr. John Brouckaert, who passed away some years back. The funeral was on the 27th of July and the kids came from Germany, England, and the States, to be here. It was an all family choir supported by an all family orchestra (two guitars, two violins, a cello, a trumpet, a flute, a keyboard, and I probably forgot something. I was asked to be the main celebrant since I watched the kids grow up since 1967 when I was chaplain at St. Mary’s Hospital. Their home was my salvation. I said often that when one went under the arch, entering the monastery property, at that time, you went 300 yrs. Backward in time. Their family was my much needed therapy as I was the only American when all the rest were German speaking (including the Dutch who also spoke German). But that is another story.

      The funeral was beautiful, as was fitting, and I managed to re-connect with the kids who are now grown ups with their own kids.

     On the 29th I joined the celebration of the CPS sisters jubilarians. Between the three of them they worked for 250 yrs. In service of the people of God. Wow.

    I visited three families for supper the first week of August, just to keep in touch. I also had masses on the 1st. of August and the 3d, with 10th graders from a local Catholic school, where probably 90% are non-catholic, but are willing to put up with us because of the education they get and the discipline, usually, in the religious schools which is not always present in the government schools.

    ON the 4th of August, we had some visitors from Boston College, their Interfaith Program , 15 students and some staff. They are preparing to be change agents in their various religious communities. About half of them were Catholics so we had to take some time to explain what a monastery is and the difference between those members of the community here at Mariannhill who are more monk and others who are more missionary (since we actually started as Trappists who read the signs of the times and got involved more actively in the day to day lives of the neighboring people, teaching them trades , agriculture, and plan old book learning === we have a primary school, an inbetween school and a high school here). In between some visits to hospitals since many parishes are so busy they don’t have time to visit their sick.

    But now comes the trip to the States for a wedding. (Lauren McCarthy and Patrick Noone—an all Irish affair as you can see. I married the parents of Lauren ---Lou and Ed---40 yrs. Ago so we celebrated their 40th while the kids took their first marriage vows. Patrick’s parents celebrated their 38th wedding anniversary a few weeks earlier.) There is no doubt that the mentoring that this couple got from their parents paid a great part in preparing them for their own marriage. Of course, I wore my red socks as they are celebratory accoutrement and used my flamboyant African vestments. It was truly a beautiful celebration. I also was prompted by the Holy Spirit to sing my homily for the couple whose beginning words are “ Love one another as I have loved you…”. It just came out because it is what I really wanted to say, the words of the song, that is. The wedding was on Friday the 11th

We got together at the practice on the10th and had a meal together to get to know each other a bit, especially Patrick’s family. We had another chance to get together after the wedding service (Mass), where I had a chance to shake my bones a bit on the dance floor and even to get a chance to dance with the bride. A great evening.

( I must have pressed the wrong button because it deleted a couple of lines and I don’t know how to get them back so I will have to do it over again.)

Let’s backtrack a bit. I left Durban in the evening of the 6th of August and arrived at O’Hare in Chicago at 3:30 in the afternoon on Tues. the 7th. The family had booked a rent-a-car for me so I picked it up and drove to my cousin’s house not far from the airport. (they live, conveniently, about equidistant from both Midway airport and O’Hare).

I forgot to mention that our travel agent, Rajes, had booked a wheelchair for me. Thank God. The airport in Dubai is huuuuge. In fact most airports these days are overgrown and you have to be as fit as an athlete to tackle them.

     I put aside my pride and went for the ride. I am trying to favour my left knee a bit when I can because the cartilage is gone there and I don’t want to wear out my bones too soon.

     That first night I drove to Midway to fetch my grand niece Katrina. I waited and waited and no Katrina. A strange thing also that there were no suitcases on the carousel that came from her plane from Atlanta. Is it possible that not even one person had checkin luggage???When the carousel stopped and no more evidence of anyone else coming from that plane, and no luggage at all,  I gave up and went home to my cousin’s. Ha. I had picked the wrong date. It was supposed to be Wed. Dummy.

On Wed.(9th) I went to AT&T and got a sim card for my phone so that I could use it in the States. $2,00 for unlimited calls per day. I got it for the week that I would be there. I think that AT&T lost some money on that deal.

Thurs.(10th) a quick visit to my aunt Rose (99yrs. Old) and then the wedding practice. Fri. prepare for the wedding at St. Jane de Chantal parish, Fr.Cronin the pastor. A very nice and welcoming guy. Patrick Noone is one of his parishioners along with the parents and the rest of the family so we both had special interests in the couple getting married.

    On Saturday (12th) I met with my nieces and grand niece (Ann, my brother John’s and his wife Donna’s daughter and Katrina’s mom (they flew up from Atlanta); Karla, another of my brother’s daughters and my niece (who flew up from SanDiego); and Jenna (who is a third niece and who is in the States for a while from Cairo, Egypt where she teaches). WE had lunch together and caught up on each other’s lives and then they took me on an outing to a distillery. New in Chicago since 2008. Interesting. Why would they want to take me, a Catholic priest on an outing to a distillery, Hmmm.  This was the 12th of August

      On Sunday the 13th, we had a family mass at my Aunt Rose where the 4 nieces, from afar, and more nieces and nephews from the Chicago area and two cousins and their wives were also present. We took a family photo. My cousin Bob’s wife, Cathy, has been bed-ridden for a number of years and it was like a miracle to see her with us, sitting in a chair and part of the celebration. That made me very happy.

Hey, it is now my bedtime so I will leave this and come back to continue tomorrow. Lots more interesting and sad things too to report. Good night.

Here it is Sept. 11th, and I am in JOburg and just trying to catch up on my Blog. Let me pick up where I left off.

On Mon. the 14th, I had a whole day before leaving on Tuesday evening, so I decided to invite my 99yr. old aunt, and her caretaker, Lita, and my second cousing, Leah, to all go to visit my uncle Cas (Roses younger brother. It was his birthday, 91 yrs. Old). So off we went to Milwaukee, about an hour and a half drive from Chicago. At first my Uncle Casey and his wife, Rose, wanted to invite us out to a restaurant, but we brought so many left overs from the home mass at Aunt Rose, that we had more than enough eat for all of us. It was a bit hilarious because both Aunt Rose (99yrs.) and Casey’ Rose and Casey, are all pretty deaf, so we had a kind of shouting match so that everyone could hear and be heard. I wondered what it would have been like in a restaurant. Ha. We left in mid afternoon and just chilled out for the rest of the day, and I went back to my cousin’s (Jerry and Barb) for the last night before departure back to South Africa.

Tues. morning, (15th) I went back to say goodbye to my aunt Rose and on the way back to Jerry and Barb’s house, I hit a humungous pothole and actually blew out a tire. Wow. I didn’t know if I could change the tire myself so I phone my second cousin Leah and she came and then her dad, Jerry, also came . I was making some headway in getting the car jacked up with the help of Leah when a black guy cruising by on the other side of the street saw our plight and asked if he could help. Well he wound up putting the doughnut (small spare tire) on for us. I told him that he wouldn’t believe it but I was from Africa and wanted to keep in touch with him to be able to say thanks and maybe send some kind of remembrance from Africa once I got home. I have his wife’s email.

When I got back to Jerry and Barb’s I phone Alamo to ask if I had to buy them a new tire or what. She just laughed and said, just bring the car in and don’t worry. But I worried. There will definitely be extra charges, I thought. Katrina came over and after saying goodbye to Jerry and Barb, we headed back to the airport to turn in our cars at our respective rentals. That was the last I saw of Katrina because she was leaving from a domestic terminal, and I from the international terminal. When I got to Alamo, there was someone directing me to park next to her. I was preparing what I am going to say about the blown tire. I explained that this is what happened but she didn’t pay attention. She just had her machine,  and gave me a receipt for the car and told me to put my luggage on the shuttle which had just pulled up next to us. NO muss, no fuss. I was relieved.

So, I had plenty of time, even with a wheelchair (I am getting spoiled now). The plane left just after 7pm for Dubai. And got into Dubai (would you believe this now) also at just after 7pm. Ha. Going against the Sun. Rajes had organized for me, at her expense, an overnight stay at a hotel in Dubai so that I could avoid and extra flight to Joburg and from there to Durban. IN this way, I had a good sleep and caught the plane from Dubai to Durban, leaving just after 10 am and supposed to arrive at about 2:30 in the afternoon. However, a passenger got sick just as we were getting ready for take off and they had to find a doctor who said she was too sick to travel so we were delayed during this time and they also had to off load the luggage to find hers . So we wound up being two hours late. We got in about 5pm. Again, I was wheechaired around and had kind of given up on being fetched as we came so late and I didn’t have the phone number of Fr. Kevin, the novice master who promised to pick me up, but he was there, having patiently waited all that while. We got back to Mater Dolorosa around 7pm. Back home. That was Thursday the 17th.

Well, I was booked for the 6am Mass at St. Mary’s hospital on Friday, the 18th, plus being part of a service from 10 to 12 or so for some retirees. So I hit the ground running.

Saturday I had an evening Mass at an Indian parish and Sunday, a Zulu Mass at my usual Savannah Park. So now I am back home and the usual routine begins. On Mon. Tues. And Wed I visited a few people and shared with them my adventure in Chicago. Then on Thursday, Aug. 24, I had an appointment at the American consulate to fill in the forms for a renewal of my passport which expires in October. Friday I went to get passport photos and had them couriered to the consulate. Wow. Very expensive. It was a mistake, but I hadn’t thought it would be so expensive so I was just caught. Too late. Anyway, the photos got there.

Sunday, Aug. 27, the usual Zulu Mass at Savannah Park, together with Fr. Macarius who likes to get out of the house and who has a gift in working with the young guys  and encouraging them. After Mass we went, as usual, to Mike and Net Pillay’s for an early lunch together with their three kids. Always refreshing. Then back to MD, home.

Our rooms are on the second floor (that is, here considered the 1st floor---there are only two floors.) and when I got to my room, I found the door open, which is unusual as I was sure that I had closed it. And when I walked in, I discovered that the cupboard (where I keep my socks and underwear and shirts, etc. ) was also open, and only then, I went back to my office and saw that my computer, I-Pad, and BLU cell phones were gone. ( The original BLU phone that Katrina had gotten for me in 2016 when I was on home leave and fallen out of my pocket and the screen was cracked. When I was in Chicago, she had picked up another one with a screen protector and an overall protector so that even if it was run over by a Mack truck, it wouldn’t get damaged. I was taking the information for the old one to put in the new one but wasn’t quite finished. Now, both were gone. What a disaster. Very expensive things but also precious information, gone, gone, gone. Ow! The question was, how did he or they get in. The house was empty of priests as all were out on Sunday and the ladies who look after the house were downstairs in the kitchen (this was about 11:15 in the morning.) We also discovered that thief had also stolen some shorts (pants) from Fr. Macarius as well as his torch (flashlight) and cheap cell phone and his rucksack. He had also visited Bishop Lobinger’s room but was seemingly disturbed and left behind some things he intended to take. The possibility of his getting in through a mistakenly left open security gate at the main door was eventually rejected by some of us because, on closer observation, we saw that there is a pipe that goes right up to Macarius’ room and Macarius found that his window was unhooked and swaying in the breeze. It would make sense that this was the easiest way to get in and out without being noticed. Then a quick get-away into the neighboring townships. Disappeared. Sad.

On Monday morning I went to make a report to the police so that we could get a case number and claim from the insurance. Also, Bishop Lobinger kindly offered to put some money in my account so that I could get another computer and cell phone so that my ministry could continue, almost uninterrupted. So, That’s what happened. I got a new computer and cell phone, but not a BLU because they are no available here.

Then came the need for a sim card for the new phone and the need for a proof of residence and ID to do that. Yuk. But that was done, and the rest of the time, practically all day and night was learning, with the help of our IT man, Br. Tendai, how to use this new Windows 10 version. I began to hate it. Some programs just didn’t work well and others I couldn’t (and still can’t) understand, but at least we are functioning. Skype in particular, in the new Windows 10 (Microsoft) version was giving me lots of headaches and was Excel. I have manage to find alternative ways around them both, but I am not happy. I am grateful for the instant help that Bishop Lobinger offered as well as the explanations by Br. Tendai to help me to learn how to use some of these programs.

I continued saying Mass at the hospital every morning and doing home and other visits during the day and sitting for hours trying to figure out how to use some of these programs. Sunday was the usual Savannah Park community.

Monday, Sept. 4, back to Incredible connections to get some more help with regard to the programs and to get some protection for the cell phone.

Wednesday, Sept. 6, I flew off to JOburg (where I am writing this from ). A couple whose wedding I had a few years ago had offered to pay for a flight up here and offered to let m borrow on of their cars to catch up on visits to people I haven’t seen for many years. So, Wed. night we spent time together catching up.

Thurs,(Sept. 7) I reluctantly, borrowed Phola’s car to visit someone in Pretoria. I was afraid to drive such a beautiful car lest I scratch it or hurt it in some way. I went out and back safely. Thank God.

Friday, Nhlanhla took me to meet one of the comrades whom I helped many years back in exile, who later became a top admiral in the navy.  Then, after lunch together, I was taken off by and to another comrade’s home. They were preparing a get-together (party) for me with some of those whom I had helped when I was also in exile in Zimbabwe and Zambia. They were trying to make a saint out of me and told me that I had done this and that for them, and most of these things I couldn’t remember. After the party, which was at Kanyo Gqulu’s home, I was taken to Edwin Smith’s home with his partner Desiree. I knew both of them from the Transkei and helped them, especially Edwin, to get across the border before the police got him. By the way, the party, for me, ended when It turned 1:30 in the morning. Way beyond my bedtime, but nice reminiscing about those days with the friends and partners who also came around to see who this creature, Fr. Cas, is, that they are always talking about.

Needless to say, I definitely didn’t get up at my usual 4am on Saturday, Sept. 9. After a late breakfast and some time to recall those old day, Edwin took me to another family, The Gilders, whose marriage I had in exile in Bulawayo in about 1990. Unfortunately, the husband left his wife and went off with another young woman, so that marriage came to an end and I was only talking to the wife and hearing how she has been coping since about the yr. 2000.

After having a chance to catch up on each other’s lives, she took me to Phola and Nhlanhla’s place where I spent the night again. She and Phola know each other so they could also be happy to see on another again.

Sunday, Sept. 17th, we went to the hospital to visit and pray for a friend from Tanzania, who had caught Meningitis a few weeks ago, but, after getting rid of the Meningitis, she had some other brain problems and had to have a shunt put in to drain the brain. We prayed long and hard for her, asking God, to bring his healing power to bear on her (Ellie is her name). It seems that she followed but not much indication aside for a blink of an eye or something like that.

Then we came back to Phola and Nhlanhal’s for a Mass (supposed to be at 1pm but wound up closer to 2:30pm since her husband, Dumisani was delayed in getting her with their two boys, one of whom, Simpiwe, was celebrating his 10th birthday, and they were really missing their mom. I was expecting about 15 to 20 people but it turned out to be closer to 50. Holy Moses. WE had a good celebration of Mass and shared what the readings said to us and what God expects of us, via those readings, to be and to do this week. Afterwards there was food and drink and finally about 7pm or so everyone started to head for home. ( One gentleman who is the patriarch of the family had studied at Mariannhill---St. Francis College---in the 40’s, and he couldn’t stop singing the praises of those German missionaries who really sacrificed everything to give them a chance to have a better life. He knew Fr. Bernard Hus, one of Mariannhill’s best known priests. A prophet ahead of his time. I had to smile as I thought that we should hire him to market Marianhill. Ha.

Today,  go to visit another family from the Zambia-Zimbabwe days. But I will wait till after that to let you know what happened. So, this is it for now. I am finally caught up and I hope I haven’t bored you.
As I learned from the younger generation, LOL (Lots of Love).  Cas

Tuesday, July 11, 2017

It’s tomorrow (July 12th). One last thing to be noted. We have had a security company here for some time, patrolling the property at night and during the day. However, after we had a break in one night where kitchen things were stolen (microwaves, toaster, hot water kettles, the TV set and even , far down the hall, my beloved weed eater (That is R6 000  by itself). The thieves hide in the bush and when the guards go by, they know they have an hour before he does his rounds again and then they strike.
    So we decided to have beams put in  so that anyone approaching the building would set off the alarm before he has a chance to do anything. Well, we thought that we were secure until one night, as I was sleeping, something bothered my eyes (about 2am) and I woke up and there was some kind of a light that was flickering in my office, which is next to my bedroom. I thought that I must have left the computer on by mistake and it was going through its paces, so I got out of bed (I sleep like Adam) and was going next door when I noticed that the door to my room, leading out into the passage, was about 2/3 open and I could see through the crack that there were two guys, about my height (fairly short) shining a torch (flashlight) into my room. Well I jumped into the doorway and screamed at them (I woke up the whole house) and must have scared the hell out of them, this white ghost screaming at them, so they ran down the hall and I saw them just disappearing down the stairs. By this time lots of people were up and we all went down the stairs to see where they got out / in. Ha. They had removed the burglar bars from our aluminum windows (only held by a pop rivet in the middle---easy to do) and climbed in. The windows must have been open because they weren’t damaged at all. But they never set off the alarm. Ha. So here we were thinking that we were so secure.
Bishop Khumalo got the company and told them to come and bring technicians to find out how they could have gotten to the windows without setting off the alarm. They discovered that there were spaces that were not covered, and that was one of them, and the solution was to install two more beam poles to cover the whole area. Only R9000. Ha again. Why didn’t they find that out when they installed the system in the first place. They should pay us instead of us paying them making us think that we were now secure the first time.
    As a result, though, I found myself being a bit nervous the first night after the break in and the visitors shining their torches into my room, so, for the first time, I locked my door. I did that for a few nights but now I am back to just closing the door. I think that there must be some psychological left over from the detention that I don’t like to be locked in anywhere without being able to get out if I have to. Paranoia?

    Anyway, that concludes this blog. I am off now to do some work in the garden . It is cold and just right for working outside. Take care and lots of love. Cas. 

June 26th 
  (Good intentions but nothing happened)

It is now July 11th
    
This means that since May 29th I have been too bloody lazy to make entries into the blog. Now what must I do.
Regarding the final decision of the car, I decided to keep it and the insurance company would pay R15.600.00 to my account. The men from ACTS, a spin off from the Cursillo, who are mechanics and panel beaters, said that they would repair it. I transferred the R15.000 to their account so that they could get started on the work. Irt is now July 11th and it is still being repaired, but is almost ready. I reminded them that they had promised that they would take it to the place where it could get a certificate of road worthiness, so that I could then get it re-insured (for next time, which I hope doesn’t happen).
     In the meantime, Bishop Lobinger let me use his vehicle for the odd trips here and there and Bishop Khumalo also let me use his car to go to the hospital for Mass in the morning.
    I was given a loaner by Avis for three weeks, (part of the Insurance policy) and it is when I had to return it, the Hyundai still not fihished, the next sentence takes over.
     Finally, a friend who runs a road construction company, loaned me one of his bakkies (Bakkie = pickup truck, a huge Toyota Diesel. I have to climb up to get inside. Then I am like King Tut. Get out of my way. It is very powerful and really moves so you have to watch it. It is huge and takes up twice the space for parking as my little Hyundai. But I am getting used to it now.

    But I have jumped the gun. On the 30th of May, I had a colonoscopy. A week later at the meeting with the doctor, the outcome is that there is no further need for anything. I have lots of these little pockets but there is nothing one can do about it. They used to operate and take some of them out but others come back again so they don’t do anything now unless there is a problem. Up till now, the BM’s have been satisfactory which was the reason for the colonoscopy in the first place. Old men’s problems. Hmmmm.
( The preparation for the colonoscopy is thrilling. Ha. You can see how clean I was because the beautiful pictures he took of my innards, in Technicolor, were as clear as can be. Clean, Clean,Clean)

We are still trying to find people who will help us financially or otherwise, to be able to start building our new church. One advice that was given is to use the money already there to start, lay a foundation, start building the walls, till the money runs out. If willing people see that you are doing something they are more likely to contribute. The money, about R100,000.00 has been there for several years now and the longer you delay using it, the more it loses its value since the prices for material keep going up. Mike Pillay has been doing all the paper work, and now the last is to get the Bishop and the Parish priest to give the go ahead. No one will contribute unless they know that the proper authorities have given their approval. This all takes time, lots of it, and patience. I wouldn’t have it but Mike Pillay, the leader of the community seems to have it.

On the 18th of June, Nomonde drove up from Mthatha and stayed with us overnight so that w could leave early the next morning, Monday, to head for Jo’burg where her daughter was graduating. Media marketing. A great occasion. Siyamthanda, the daughter, had booked a room for her mom at the Holiday in for two nights. I wonder where she got the money. Quite expensive. I had gotten onto Google and looked for the nearest Catholic Church figuring that I might just be able to sleep there for two nights without causing a lot of bother. The Church was just up the road, maybe ten minutes away and on the same street. It would have been ideal.  But he wasn’t interested. OK. A friend who lives in Centurion, a suburb of Joburg, actually between Joburg and Pretoria, offered to put me up there but it is far away and the traffic in the morning is horrendous. So I graciously declined. But she then said that she would contact a friend how lived in Sandon (where the holiday Inn is ) to see if she would put me up for a couple of nights. It worked out better that I could have dreamed. Actually her condominium is just over the back wall from the Holiday Inn. I could actually walk there. It worked out well.
    We left at 6am from the Holiday Inn on Tuesday morning to make sure that we would be in time for Siyanthanda’s appointment at 8:30 in mid Joburg to get togged up etc. for the ceremony. We were in plenty of time since the really heavy traffic hadn’t started yet. It was a grand occasion for Siyamthanda and Nomonde was soooo proud of her daughter. Me too. I have known Nomonde since I went to Transkei in 1978 and we worked together as the youth team for the Mthatha Diocese for many years. She is the one that was arrested and put in jail so that they could squeeze her and get information about me to incriminate me. Ha. They don’t know a stubborn woman when they see on. They tortured her so that she almost died but she never said a word. When I was being interrogated the Security Police asked me to please ask her to tell them her name. Don’t mess with a determined woman.
     Since I didn’t know my way around Joburg, I had to ask Siyamthanda to take us to a restaurant for a celebratory meal after the ceremony. Ha. She is a student with a very limited income so her idea of a restaurant was a Wimpy in a local Mall. Anyway, we enjoyed.

I had the CPS postulants for Mass on Saturday (I don’t go to the hospital on Sat) and it is always refreshing because there are two or three young postulants who are very creative in their choosing of songs and who make the liturgy come alive with their youthful enthusiasm and skills.
On the 24th of June, I gave a mini-retreat to teens and up at a nearby parish. It was only a couple of hours but I gave them a chance to ask whatever questions they wanted to ask and I could also put  a few of my questions to them. It ended with a delicious curry meal at the leader’s house, prepared by his wife. (As you already know, I am addicted to curries_

I think that the grass cutting which is a big feature of my life finally stopped around the second week of June. It is winter here and the grass doesn’t grow (thank God). However, it is time to trim the bush and trees so there is still plenty of outside work to keep one fit, more of less.

In between, I do some counseling and help out at nearby parishes on Saturdays and Sundays when I am not at Savannah Park. I also had a funeral of  a man who was an outstanding leader of the German community in the neighborhood. He and his wife adopted two Black African children. They speak English and German but not Zulu. Hmmm

I took Fr. Macarius’ talking watch to get a new battery. When it came back the talking part didn’t work any more so I had to send it away to the South African society for the Blind to get it repaired. When he presses a button, it tells the time ( 10 minutes past 8, for example). Macarius feels more and more unsure of himself when he walks as the little eyesight that he had is also diminishing.
Being an American citizen, I was also invited to a kind of celebration of the 241st anniversary of our independence. The Consul, Frances Chisholm, is a real winner. She is one of the best representatives of the US that I have experienced in all  these years away from home. I was told by my friend who works at the Consulate that many of those who were invited never came so it was a comparatively small crowd. Call it the Trump effect.

I gave a 4 day retreat to an Anglican priest from Joburg who go to know us at Mariannhill through one of our brothers. I hope he survives.  He is a Civil Engineer by profession but felt the call to the priesthood after he was married and now has three children with his wife. They seem to have some of the same problems that we Catholics have. Nothing new under the sun.

That’s enough for tonight. It is getting close to my bed time. I will be up again at 4am to go to the hospital for Mass there and for communion to the patients. (I also visited a friend who had his right leg, up to the knee, amputated because of Diabetes. He is in a Durban hospital again. He says that the diabetes is doing its work and is now affecting his kidneys. He may have to have dialysis. I am forever grateful for my reasonable health.

This has not been a good day for me. Something has been bugging my stomach today and I did very little but lie down and sleep and rest. Not like me. I didn’t even have breakfast. Mpume had to come and check what was wrong as she was nervous when she noticed that I hadn’t come for breakfast. She is one of the house mothers. It is nice to be loved. Men don’t usually bother.


Good night. I will try to wrap it up tomorrow. Cas.

Saturday, May 13, 2017

May 13, 2017
    It wasn’t my intention to put something in my blog today but if I don’t I may not be able to tomorrow.
There were two major deaths in our lives here in South Africa. One was Fr. Guy who finally passed away on Monday May 1st. St. Joseph the Worker. A fitting day to say goodbye as he was a very hard worker in the vineyard of the Lord.
     There was a memorial Mass held for him in Mthatha last Thursday, May 11th.  Here is what one of those present had to say:
   
James Weyi
10:49 AM (8 hours ago)
to FrBruder, me, Odwa, Thembekile
A very good day to you Fr hoping that you are well. Fr Chikadi did send messages to friends who knew Fr Guy and those whom he touched their hearts through his kind works.The initial date send 12/May/2017 at Glen Avent Convent and later another date was forwarded to us with a changed venue being the Cathedral on 11/05/2017. The Memorial Holy Mass was well attended by friends from all the places which Fr Guy was of help, namely Sabelani, Maiden Farm, Phola Park, Hill Crest and locally in town. Bishop Siphuka officiated the Holy Mass Service but he was very quiet. Fr John Chickadi is the one who spoke about Fr Guy as he officiated the sermon and he clearly drew a picture of who Fr Guy really was since his arrival and the experiences that they had with him as Priests. He also did not mince his words when stating that they as Priests had their weaknesses, failing the Community in various ways. Electricity went off just a few minutes as the service had begun followed by thunder and lihtning.  Fr Stephan spoke on behalf of the CMM Priests also expanding on Fr Chikadi's sermon painting a broader picture of who Fr Guy was and how they as Priests did let him down when challanges caught up with him purely seeing that the church was now being divided. Jerome send a written letter on behalf of friends as he could not attend. The letter was a farewell note to Fr Guy also thanking him for being a pillar of strength to him and others and also having learnt so many things from him. Sr Mary Corda also spoke on behalf of the  80 CPS Srs and Thembelihle Home where the also thanked Fr Guy for his services and guidance. She also reassured the community that they will continue where he had left as that was his most humble request in helping the poor. Sabelani Guys were present but no one went to speak and we are not sure what prevented them from doing so. I personally presume that it could be grief or the mere presence of Bishop Siphuka, but they were there to witness the service. Yes indeed a huge rock has fallen and we are very grateful and we will mis him. May his great soul rest in peace.

I won’t comment now but will do so later, regarding to the life and times and death of Fr. Guy.

The other death was that of Bishop Barry Wood, the vicar general of the Durban Archdiocese, right hand man of Cardinal Napier. He, like Guy, was passionate about trying to lift the poor out of their poverty and was a hands on person when it came to listening and responding to the voices that are traditionally tuned out of the hearts and consciences of many Church leaders and their followers.

On Thursday, also May 11th, there was an ecumenical service at the Diakonia Center in the heart of Durban, an ecumenical social service organization, which was headed by Bishop Barry Wood for two terms, from 2005 to 2011. Today, was the funeral Mass for him, led by Cardinal Napier, assisted by the Apostolic Nuncio, a fellow student from St. Meinrad, though much later than me, as well as more priests concelebrating than I could count, surely over 100 and a whole bevy of his brother bishops. It was a very inclement day, bloody cold, as one here would say, and threatening rain at any moment, but holding back till just after the service had been concluded. He was lauded and praised by all, priests and laity alike. He was, like Guy and Francis, special in his obvious love and concern for the poor, a model for us all.

However, I almost didn’t make it. The Mass was held in the Royal Showgrounds in Pietermaritzbug, about 80 km. from Durban (50 miles). As I was entering the city, forging ahead with a welcoming green light, from the left side (passenger side here) a car ran the red light and slammed into me between the front wheel and the door. I spun me around several times before winding up on the island in the middle of the road, up against a pole that stopped me from going further. The car that hit me also spun around and floated backwards and almost rammed into my door, but stopped just about 2 feet from my door. I was stunned and didn’t want to move. I just sat there thinking, you know what (sh…). Now what.
   Someone who had seen the accident came to the door and told me to sit tight until he came back which I was doing anyway. When he came, he helped me out of the car and felt my neck  and some other places asking if it hurt. It didn’t. There was no whiplash because she hit me from the side, not the back. I was OK. But now (this happened about 9:15 in the morning and it is after 8pm in the evening) I am beginning to feel the pains of the muscles that were stretched and around the ribs, especially on the left side where the seat belt must have tightened up because of the crash.
     While we were standing there waiting for the police to come and maybe even an ambulance (thank God the two young children who were in the back seat of the car the lady was driving were unhurt. I am sure that the lady driver of the car that went through the red light must have been hurt somehow because the whole front end of her car was bashed and she too must have experienced the seat belts tightening up to keep her from going out the window.
    Of course, there was a tow truck right there and within two minutes he was trying to sign me up but I told him to wait till I contacted the Insurance Company to get instructions from them. In the meantime, lots of sisters were also on their way to the funeral and they saw my wrecked car and then me on the side of the road so a bunch of them, in different cars stopped to ask if I was OK. The tow truck driver was impressed by my harem.
I told them that once we got things sorted out with the towing company and the police, I would ask them for a lift back to Mariannhill, since a whole car load of them are my neighbors and the hospital and convent here.
     I managed to sneak in sideways among the clergy after getting properly dressed for the occasion (alb and stole). No one knew why I was late. I am skipping some things here but will catch you up on them another time.
     After the service, about 3 ½ hrs, as we were leaving I managed to greet a few of the bishops whom I have known since my Justice and Peace days, and even manage to hand a note to the Cardinal from our Provincial, Fr. Chikadi, assuring the Archidioce of the condolences of us brothers of Mariannhill in the Mthatha Province. I also weeneed my way next to the Apostolic Nuncio (The Pope’s representative to South Africa) and tell him that I was proud to see a fellow son of St. Meinrad here in South Africa. We both went to the same seminary, St. Meinrad in Southern  Indiana, but I was a few hundred years ahead of him. I saw his picture on the wall at St. Meinrad last year when I passed by on my home leave. The walls are full of the class pictures.  I even took a picture of the picture and sent it to him when I got back to South Africa. He never responded. I guess he has other more important things to do.
    Well, after a few short meetings, I skipped the meal as I didn’t want to lose the nun who was showing me the way to the car. Now I am guessing that there were between 3000 and 4000 people at the service, and you can imagine the fun and games trying to get out. That is, if you can remember where you parked the car. Ha. We wandered around, up and down for about 20 minutes, but eventually we were spotted by one of the sisters who came from the car to look for us, and guided us back to the car.
Well, that is almost the end of the story. While was watching the 7pm news, Br. Tendai came to see if I was still alive, and when he saw that I was, he told me that we have guests in the house tonight and asked when I turn on the alarm. I really wanted to hit the sack like NOW, but now there is a new twit to the story. I will wait till 9:30 and then, as I told Tendai, I will turn on the alarm. If they are not here and try to get in later, I will definitely hear the alarm go off and then, hang around till the security company comes to see what’s up, and I will tell them  all is well and go back to sleep.
    I am up at 4am so it is no problem in the morning as I turn off the alarm before most people have started to think of getting up.
    Well, that’s it for tonight. I hope that I don’t turn the wrong way in bed and irritate that bottom rib and give a yelp.
    I will go over my Zulu readings for tomorrow and my homily while I am waiting, but will happily climb beneath the blanket just after 9:30

   Y’all stay well. Love and Peace, Cas.