Book of Wisdom 3:1

At the age of eighty-three, Andy Golembiewski contracted prostate cancer, and in the summer of 1997 his condition took a noticeable turn for the worse. One night in August, he fell into a coma, and his grieving family gathered at his bedside, braced for the inevitable. When hope for an improvement in Andy’s condition had all but vanished and he had been unconscious for hours, his eyelids suddenly fluttered. His fingers began to quiver, and his body trembled. Then his eyes flew open, and they darted around the room with a gleam of intelligence and lucidity. He propped himself on his arms, looked his granddaughter Debra White in the eye, and said loudly and clearly, “ 1…6…9….5.” And then as suddenly as he had stirred, he died.

All his life, Andy was known as both a mischievous prankster and a warmhearted Good Samaritan. As owner of Andy’s Bar and Grill, a tavern in Lawrenceville, he was a neighborhood fixture with a reputation for playing pranks on his customers but also lending them money when they were short. He believed that helping another human being in time of need was the greatest good a man could do.

His relatives didn’t know what to make of Andy’s deathbed message. They all agreed that Andy had appeared perfectly rational and clearheaded when he had uttered the four numbers. But…. numbers? What kind of message from the grave was that? “Those were the very last words he uttered,” said daughter-in-law, Millie. “It wasn’t anybody’s birthday, phone number, address. Nothing connected.”

It was Andy’s son, Tony, who finally suggested that they play the Big Four Lottery, which was being held the next day. The next evening they were celebrating a very bizarre and bittersweet lottery win of $23, 500. “Andy!” his widow screamed, as the numbers were called up. “You’re so concerned about your family, you even paid for your own funeral”

The win was ironic, his family told reporters later, because during his lifetime Andy was opposed to gambling and had never even once played the lottery. “He was a prankster,” said his granddaughter. “He was so kindhearted,” another relative told a TV crew, “that he had to look out for his family even after he was gone.”

Tony Golembiewski

Comment:
The doctrine of the communion of Saints refers to the connection that exists between the just who have died, and the living. Is it all that hard to imagine that loveable Andy was still looking out for his family even after he was gone?

Fr. Hugh Duffy