A Tragic New Year...

I beg your pardon if I lapse into a sad real-life diversion and act OOC for a moment. My plan had been to post a year-in-review post today, a summary of the joys and sorrows of the past year in Second Life. That seems trite, in retrospect. Tonight's New Year's celebrations will be tinged with tragedy for YHN and many other people. A very good friend of YHN, Father Michael C. Kelly, was killed in a freakish accident (struck by a falling tree in the high winds currently bombarding the area round Washington DC at the moment). To say "we were great friends, I will miss this man" seems to be inadequate and sanctimonious-- everyone says that when a friend passes away. The truth was, we WERE good friends. The good father was a self-confessed history "geek", much like YHN, a game designer, a wargamer, historical reenactor, and Parish priest. Father Kelly was a frequent guest in YHN's home, where he would gleefully (and savagely) play skirmish and micro-armor games in the basement with my friends. Father Mike was quirky.. he would ALWAYS take the "bad guys" in Wild West games, and when we would call him on it, he would say with a broad grin: "I'm goody two shoes for my day job, gents" Father Mike would should up for Parish Field Days dressed as a Union Soldier, and ride his bicycle around tricked out like a bicycle powered World War II aeroplane.

Odd behavior, for a priest? Many priests (and I know this for a fact) work the "solemn factor" so they can appear otherwordly to their flock. We lose sight of the fact they are human beings. In this respect, Mike was the most unpriestly priest I ever met. Father Mike delighted in challenging people's perceptions. He was more than just a friend-- he was a spiritual counselor. When I came to him for advice, during one of the lowest points of my life, he told me the story about how a guy like him (an ex-Army, red-meat eatin', gun-totin' conservative, by his description) could ever become a priest. It was not, he said, a matter of sudden revelation, of trumpets and drums and hallelujiahs. His calling came to him with a quiet little whispering from the Holy SPirit. "It never let up on me, and guess what, it won't give up on you either!". He had the annoying habit of being right much of the time.

God bless you and keep you in the palm of His hand, Father Mike. You made a difference with your life. Thank you for teaching me the power of that quiet little voice.