Dear Friend,
When someone you’ve been married to for nearly 34
years is stricken with a deadly form of cancer and dies, you can imagine
what a life-changing experience it is.
As I mentioned in my last letter, my dear husband Anthony
passed away on Wednesday of Easter week. He entered eternal life at 7:16
p.m. on day 6 of the Novena to Divine Mercy.
You can certainly understand that this is one of the hardest
letters I’ve ever written you. That’s because I want to tell you exactly
how I feel. I want you to know how my faith is helping me understand this
profound loss. I’d like to talk with you personally – as if we were
sharing a cup of coffee together at my kitchen table. I pray that my
message will touch your soul with joy and encouragement.
First, let me ask you about something. Sooner or later you
may sit beside the deathbed of a loved one. After all, death will come to
each of us. It may come suddenly and unexpectedly. Or it may come the long
way of a wicked disease as it did for Anthony.
That reality leads me to ask you some questions. Are you
prepared to help your loved one make the transition to eternal life? And,
when you are on your deathbed, will your loved ones know how to help you
complete the great personal act of dying? These questions became important
ones to me as we faced the certainty of Anthony’s death.
Do you know what prayers will most console your loved ones
and do they know which ones will bring you comfort? The answers to these
questions are important.
I have come to discover that the deathbed is a very intimate
place, a very sacred place. At its edge we witness a profound and glorious
mystery – the passage of a soul to eternal life. It is a place charged
with the supernatural. A place surrounded by angels and saints. A place
where time and eternity intersect.
Will your deathbed or the deathbed of your loved one be an
oratory of prayer? Will it be a place replete with grace and love and
hope? Will it be a place filled with joy and courage and strength? Will it
be a place that serves to gently usher a person home to the Lord? I pray
so.
But, if you’re not sure, I can give you some help – both for
you and your loved ones! I want this letter to be so meaningful to you
that you’ll tuck it away in a drawer so you can pull it out for
encouragement whenever you need it.
Let me tell you the story of Anthony’s heroic witness as he
taught everyone in our family how to die a grace-filled happy death.
Before Anthony became bedridden, I asked him a hard question
in an interview on my EWTN program, The Abundant Life. I said, “Honey, I’m
a little shy about asking you this question. Should this disease prove to
be fatal, as the doctors say it is, what would you want people to remember
about you?”
How Anthony wanted to be remembered
He seemed caught off-guard. He paused. Then he
looked at me and said, “To know, to love, and to serve God. That’s what I
would want people to remember about me.” What a beautiful response! Our
younger daughter brought that out in her eulogy. He also said that this
was the time for a real faith, not a pretend faith. And he stood on his
faith throughout his ordeal.
We knew full well that his disease was terminal. The doctors
had told us as much and I had done my own research. Nevertheless, we
prayed for a miracle. Sister Briege McKenna came to our home with a relic
of Pope John Paul II, and we asked for his intercession. Sister Briege had
comforting words, but her words didn’t point toward physical healing. She
said, “I see a long road, and you and Tony are walking down this road, and
it’s a beautiful road, and Jesus is walking along the road with you.” I
sensed immediately it was the road of suffering.
But I know that Our God is the God of the Impossible. So here
is how I prayed, “Lord, I know in your omnipotence you can heal my
husband. You have authority over all things, including this cancer. And in
your omniscience, you know what’s best for my husband’s soul and also for
my salvation. I pray that you would heal him, if that be your will, but if
it is in your plan to take him home, then I pray that he would have the
grace of a happy death.”
I definitely believe in healing, such as the miracles at
Lourdes. But a miraculous healing isn’t always God’s plan for us. Remember
St. Bernadette, the girl who discovered the healing waters at Lourdes? She
died a painful death from tuberculosis of the bone. When asked why she
didn’t go to the spring for healing, she replied, “The healing waters of
the spring are not for me.” She understood that God can use our suffering
in amazing ways. Bernadette offered up her suffering, and in so doing, she
demonstrated heroic faith throughout her illness.
Do you know of any saint that didn’t go through pain and
suffering? I don’t. It seems that God entrusts a portion of Christ’s
passion to every saint. Perhaps it is because, as Father Faber suggests,
our Father God wants us to participate in Jesus’ most glorious act – the
redemption of mankind. St. Paul states as much in Colossians 1:24.
Anthony knew there was power in uniting his sufferings to the
passion of Christ. He knew that God works all things to the good for those
who have been called according to His purposes (Romans 8:28). And he
offered his disease and its resulting disabilities to the Father.
Many times I would walk in on Anthony during an intimate
moment of prayer. He would be gazing at the crucifix with his functioning
arm extended telling Our Lord that he was uniting his sufferings to His
passion and cross. I would steal away from these moments chastened and
challenged – was I doing the same?
I don’t have the answers to the mystery of suffering. I just
have the wisdom that God has given to me. And I pray you find it helpful.
Anthony maintained a good humor. The hospice workers were
always delighted to take care of Anthony. He joked with them, teased them,
and gave them all nicknames. They always left our house laughing and
smiling. They were happy to come. It was inspiring for them and for us.
Anthony’s gutsy, masculine faith
You see, Anthony didn’t just say he
believed the faith. He didn’t just go through the motions of being
Catholic. He believed and lived the Faith.
Anthony had a gutsy, masculine faith. He was a man’s man, and
he evangelized as a man’s man. He didn’t mince his words. He’d say exactly
what was on his mind. Sometimes I’d be startled by his bluntness. I would
have used a more tender and diplomatic approach.
But Anthony’s approach was perfect for his field of
evangelization: the real world in which men aren’t practicing their faith
and don’t want to practice any faith. When Anthony heard a man blaspheme,
for example, he’d talk to him in a way the man could understand. Many of
those men came to the funeral. They remarked about Anthony’s strong faith
and what a witness he was to them. Personally, I had a feeling Anthony was
smiling to see them all in Church – a Catholic one, no less!
Anthony was advanced in his spirituality in a way that was uniquely his
own.
He had a practical application of the faith. He told Fr.
Edmund Sylvia, C.S.C. over and over during his final two months: “All I
want is to be in the Immaculate Heart of Our Lady because that’s the place
where I can get closest to the Cross.” That’s profound. You could meditate
on that for a long, long time. And at the end that’s precisely where the
Lord drew him. I think he definitely died in the Immaculate Heart of Mary.
He seemed to have a little sideways smile on his face. Just a little
upturn, as if to say, “Aha.” And that was a consolation, too.
Toward the end Anthony wouldn’t want to take his pills. So
sometimes we’d crush his pills and put them in his yogurt or ice cream,
hoping he wouldn’t notice. He always knew, and he didn’t like that we
“tried to pull one over on him.” He’d say, “You put my pills in the ice
cream, didn’t you? You realize you’ve spoiled my ice cream.” I’d say,
“Well, how about if I put a little more chocolate sauce on it?” And that
seemed to resolve the issue.
Then on Good Friday I called the doctor’s office and said,
“I’m having trouble getting his meds into him. Anthony won’t take any
pills today.” The physician assistant replied that this happens as the
time draws near: “He doesn’t have to take his medication any more.” And my
eyes stung with tears.
As he did every day, Father Ed came on Good Friday to
administer the sacraments to Anthony. He remarked on radio and in the
homily at the funeral mass that when he looked at Anthony in his bed of
pain, he couldn’t help but think, “There lies the Cross, now a bed. The
Cross all of us will know in some way or another in our lives.”
On Easter Sunday, Anthony began his final decline. Father Ed
basically moved in with us. Words could never adequately express my
gratitude. He really helped us, just as he had helped us get through
Simon’s death. Fr. Ed was with us all the way until Anthony drew his last
breath, ministering to him and to us. What a grace we received!
Anthony struggled for life for four days.
Actually it was only his body struggling near the end. I was
pretty certain he was experiencing the compassionate love of Jesus and Our
Blessed Lady. Nonetheless, it was a hard four days for us as we watched
one system after another shut down. In time, his respiration changed and
he took his final breaths. It was Wednesday, April 11th.
Anthony had a beautiful passing. He experienced the grace of
a happy death. In her eulogy, our daughter Jessica said, “Simon passed
during the Lenten season, a barren, sorrowful season. Dad passed during
this victorious Easter season. A season of beauty and life, and I think
there’s a real message there to ponder and pray about.”
On that last day, family and friends had gathered in our
home. Around his bed we prayed the Rosary and the Chaplet of Divine Mercy.
We read to him from Sacred Scripture and religious books. We talked with
him. We loved him. Anthony experienced a remarkably beautiful conclusion
to his life. It was a wonderful thing to watch at the end. It was
difficult, but it was a remarkably beautiful experience to be present when
Anthony’s soul left his body.
We didn’t have that experience with our son Simon, who died
in a vehicular collision.
In those final moments, I was weeping. I looked at Anthony
and said, “Honey, tears are streaming from my eyes. I’m weeping. But my
heart is filled with such joy because very shortly you will behold the
face of God. I’m so happy for you. I love you.”
You’re probably wondering how I could feel any joy at all
during Anthony’s passing. I’ve found that joy is the pearl of great price
that’s sewn into the garment of suffering. And that’s what I was
experiencing then. It’s a paradox this mixture of joy and sorrow. But God
promises us His grace is sufficient. And so it is.
Indeed, Anthony experienced the grace of a happy death. He
had a deep devotion to St. Joseph whose intercession we repeatedly sought
asking for this grace. The Blessed Sacrament was reposed before Anthony
and relics of St. Faustina, Blessed Brother Andre of Montreal, Blessed
Francis Xavier Seelos, and a sliver of the True Cross were displayed near
him. Fr. Ed saw to it that he died with the sacraments of the Church and
Viaticum.
The funeral Mass was beautiful. There were 8 priests and 3
deacons at the altar. Father Ed’s homily was remarkable.
The motto Anthony lived to the very end
Anthony had a list of maxims – Dadisms
we called them – that became guiding lights for us in our daily lives.
I’ve found them beneficial to me throughout my life of faith. Strung
together, they become a “way,” a spiritual path that leads to the joy of
the resurrection. I think you’ll find them helpful, too: 1) Keep Jesus in
front of you, 2) Secure the perimeter, 3) Stay the course, 4) Finish
strong. We never officially adopted a family mission statement, but these
four maxims certainly would be part of it. Anthony applied them throughout
his life of faith – especially during his suffering and as he was dying.
As you can see, Anthony had a gift of boiling down
complicated matters into simpler statements we could understand. For
example, he said, “God’s plan isn’t always our plan, but it is our plan
because it’s God’s plan.” Our daughter Thea said, “That has really helped
me in my life.”
I told my daughters, “Observe your father because he is
teaching us how to die.” He showed us what it meant to die with faith and
courage.
Most important: During Anthony’s final days and final hours
we relied on a special prayer book for eternal life. This prayer book
contains a vast treasure far out of proportion to its tiny size. I believe
it’s the best such book in the English language. And I want you to have it
because one day it will come in handy. Yes, some day you and your loved
ones will need this prayer book.
On Anthony’s last day, it was from this little book that Fr.
Ed and family members read the prayers for eternal life I want to send it
to you. From it, we prayed litanies and other special prayers.
Because hearing is supposedly the very last sense to go, I
feel confident Anthony could hear us, and may well have been praying with
us. He knew we were praying his soul into eternal life.
Anthony died wearing a pin that says, “Jesus I trust in you.”
He was buried wearing that same pin, a medal of St. Anthony of Padua, and
Our Lady’s mantle, the scapular. How beautiful!
Don’t misunderstand me. I’m not spiritualizing this. My pain
is a very real pain. But I watched the hand of God move upon my husband’s
soul. It was perceptible. It was palpable. Fr. Ed commented on that. And
others did as well. You could see the action of God in Anthony. Words fail
to describe it.
I didn’t want my husband to die. I’ll always miss him. But I
would never choose physical life over the experience he was able to
embrace – this profound action of God in his soul. I would never want him
to go without that, having seen it with my own eyes. He united his
suffering with the Cross of Christ.
That doesn’t mean every day was a perfect day at our house.
It wasn’t. Many moments were tedious, difficult, heartbreaking, and
unpleasant. Anthony never complained about his suffering. He never
complained about being bedridden, even though he had always been a vitally
active man. He never asked “Why me?” Instead, he asked, “Why not me?” He
never griped to God or anyone else. Never griped about any of his
treatments and surgeries or medications. He never griped about any of
that.
He did complain about my driving, however. But he had
complained about that before he was sick! And he also complained about the
coffee. He’d say, “The coffee isn’t hot enough, Johnnette. What are you
doing?” His illness prevented him from realizing how hot it actually was.
But about illness, there was NEVER a complaint. Not even one.
And that’s remarkable. He offered up all of his suffering for the
life-changing ministries of Living His Life Abundantly and Women of Grace.
In other words, he offered up his suffering for you and for me.
How to get the amazing prayer book for eternal life
As I mentioned earlier, I want to give
you the finest prayer book for eternal life in the English language. I
relied on the prayers of this powerful book completely during the crucial
days and hours before Anthony’s death. My daughters know that these are
the very same prayers I want them to say over me when they’re at my
deathbed one day.
You’ll want the comfort of these prayers yourself. You’ll
want them for your loved ones, too.
I’ll gladly give you this special prayer book for eternal
life as a token of thanks for your tax-deductible
gift of $35 or more. Just click on this link and it will take you to
the reply memo.
As a token of thanks for your tax-deductible
gift of $50 or more I’ll gladly send you the prayer book for eternal
life plus the new CD of the deeply moving radio show Fr. Ed hosted the day
after Anthony’s death. What a priest! What a message! You need to hear it.
It’s that simple. Could you consider sacrificing $50 or more?
But there is still something else I want you to have – a book
that has become an invaluable treasure to me. This book is a powerhouse
that will catapult your prayer life to a new level. It will inspire and
strengthen your faith no matter the circumstances, and provide you with a
deeper understanding of the ways of God in all things. It became an anchor
for me in Anthony’s last months and continues to be a holy lifeline even
now. I will never exhaust its treasure. For your tax-deductible gift of
$125 or more, I’ll gladly send you EVERYTHING: the CD, the prayer book for
eternal life, and the book that will transform you in amazing ways.
Will you help me get through the financially tough
summer?
Your gift will help me reach more souls
and change more lives. Your gift will help keep these projects going full
throttle:
• Live radio: Women of Grace ®, which now airs every weekday
• Women of Grace ® regional conferences and retreats
• The Abundant Life television show on EWTN, broadcast 4
times per week
• Worldwide internet outreach
• Worldwide distribution of life-changing educational
materials: books, CDs, DVDs, etc.
When Anthony pledged to offer his suffering for the work of
Living His Life Abundantly, he said to me, “Johnnette, don’t stop doing
your ministry. If you do, you will nullify the gift I am offering you – my
life.” Your gift will help me keep my promise to him.
Because of the difficulty of raising funds during the summer
months, I’m praying you’ll donate more than the suggested minimum amounts
if possible. Could you consider making a sacrifice of $500, $1,000, or
possibly even more? Your gift will help me reach souls and change lives.
I’ll gratefully accept your gift – however big, however
small. Please join me in praying that the Lord will inspire many to send a
sacrificial gift to help me get through the financially tough summer
months. Please send your sacrificial gift right away or
click here to make an online donation. God provides for our
needs through friends like you. Won’t you please join hands with me in
this life-transforming work?
I’ll deeply appreciate your prayers for my family. We
treasure your prayers. May the abundant life of Jesus Christ be yours.
P.S. Please pray about my request and follow what the Lord leads you to
do. The enemies of the Culture of Life hope you’ll set this letter aside
and forget about it. Please don’t do that. Please join me in prayer and,
if possible, send your gift today because the summer is a tough time to
raise funds. I’ll be watching the mail for your response.
In His service,
Johnnette Benkovic
