by Sr. Margaret Anne Meyer MMM                                         USA                            05.02.2025

There I was – in front of the door where six months previously I was wrapped in my father’s arms before he left to board the plane for JFK in New York. I could still feel the love and warmth of our embrace but now he had suddenly died, and the pain of loss and grief was creeping in. In those days, May 1966, the flight left Dublin at 2 PM and stayed in Shannon for an hour to let passengers have time to browse the duty-free shops. I stayed on the plane, remembering the good times I had spent with my father. I do not remember being checked there for entrance into the USA. The flight landed in New York around 6pm. Three large books contained all the passport numbers, and I was very relieved when my number was found, and I was let into the USA.

It was difficult meeting with my mother and family. We were all in great sorrow, but I was incredibly grateful to be able to be there. It was the first time to be home in eight years.

My father got his wish not to be waked for two nights as was the custom in those days. The funeral parlor was full, so I was in time for the wake. So many people came to pay their respects. My brother Albert’s class from Christ the King High School were among them. The next morning, we gathered at the funeral parlor again. I remember praying in front of the coffin. I could not cry then because I was so thankful that my father and I had grown closer together. He really was now happy that I had entered MMM. He told me before I entered that if he had had a better salary I would choose differently. It was a suffering on both of us and now, as he had told others, he was with his son-in-law, Jesus.

The funeral Mass was celebrated in our Parish Church, St. Theresa of Avila, in Queens, New York. It was the first time that I attended a Mass where the priest faced the people. He was buried in the Meyer family plot, originally belonging to his grandfather, August Meyer, who came from Germany in the 1860’s.

I was grateful to be with my mother for about ten days. During that time, I took a shuttle flight to Boston from JFK for $28 return. I wanted to visit the Sisters in Winchester. We were excited to see each other. I was asked to say a few words to the novices and there seemed to be many at the long table in the Community Room. All were exceedingly kind to me and prayed for my Father, Albert Meyer.

Soon it was time to return to Ireland. It was harder to leave my mother than when I first entered 10 years previously. God gives the grace. It was near the time to leave for Uganda but that is another story.