A Man For All Seasons
I met Father Ivers in the physical therapy room at St. Benedict"s when my very discouraged father was sitting on a cycling machine. He wheeled over without hesitation, witnessing the sadness on my father's face and the hurt in my heart, as I attempted to help put Dad together again. Father Ivers was pale and thin, yet took the time to introduce himself and start a friendship with my family. He was a light, as I navigated the perilous waves of end of life issues. In his unassuming, non-preachy, simple and genuine manner, Father Ivers entered our lives and
continued to minister. I fooled myself as I would stop in his room at the end of my visits with my parents: I thought I was helping him, but in truth, he provided comfort to me as he always offered his reading material to me, leaving envelopes with copied articles, with "You will like this, Rose…or, we'll talk about this later, okay?" in the margins. Father Ivers, I will never stop needing your warmth, your humbleness, your energy. There is an error in the death notice as it mentions only that in February of 2007, "he transferred to St. Benedict's". No, it was at St. Benedict's that you still sheltered every individual that you met and you shared every last measure. Godspeed, my friend, you were Christ's hands on earth. Words cannot express your goodness. Love, Rose
Posted by Rosaline Kus
Thursday January 23, 2014 at 12:05 pm