Louis de Boisgelin, son of Eugene’s sister had been training to become a Jesuit for four years. In 1841, at the age of 26, he became seriously ill. When Eugene learnt about this, he wrote in his diary:
I resign myself to and embrace the plans of God, who calls to himself a young soul ready for heaven
Eugene de Mazenod’s Diary, 21 November 1841, EO XX
Three months later, Eugene travelled to the Jesuit community to bid farewell to his nephew.
Stopovers in Avignon at the bedside of my holy nephew. The sacraments had been administered to him when I arrived, and the peace in his soul certainly had not been changed by the announcement of his approaching end. His gentleness, his resignation, the perfect calm which he maintained in the midst of his suffering, called forth the admiration of the entire community and of the physicians who were caring for him with a fervor worthy of their piety.
I judged that his state would permit his mother to arrive on time to see him again one last time. This is a consolation for which I would have blamed myself for not having fulfilled for this good mother, so strong, so miserable, so resigned. Her presence made it possible; the Fathers did not stint themselves.
Every day I celebrated Holy Mass in the bedroom of my nephew, for whom this brought a great happiness in his deplorable condition. Poor, dear child! He was aware of the entire peril, and, far from complaining, he thanks the good Lord and accepts his suffering with the most perfect resignation.
Eugene de Mazenod’s Diary, 8 February 1842, EO XXI
Death is so complicated, especially the death of those we love; we are filled with a certain joy for them as they pass from this life into the next, at the same time as we are filled with the sorrow of letting them go, with perhaps a certain fear of being left behind.
Have we done the best that we could to prepare them, to walk with them as far as possible? How well did we accompany them on their road of life?
I have in my mind the image of young Louise being handed over to the communion of saints who greeted him. That giant chasm the separates life here and the new life that awaits after death.
The words “fulness of life” keep pushing their way in to the light of day.
I was a great fan of the original Star Trek years ago. One of the stories that I have never forgotten is of Spock hijacking the Enterprise to take a man who is encased within a robotic body due to catastrophic injury or disease (I do not remember which). Spock was taking his friend to a planet where a race of beings would help him to appear and live with his body, appearing to have been made whole again and where time did not enter into the equation. He did this out of great love for his friend and to help him to be able to realise a deeper and all-pervasive fullness of life even though the friend was not sure he wanted to go there.
Perhaps not the best example but this is what came to me. All of us having to resign ourselves and embrace the plans of God. And the other side – we have a foretaste of that already as we get used to being and living in the presence of God – perhaps young Louis knew of that personally and it was how he could suffer the journey with such calm and resignation.