Thanks so much for telling us your story, Father. What an amazing one, and heartbreaking!
I'm so sorry you lost your brother, but I'm so happy that you survived...and that they worked so hard to make sure you would! It must have been some consolation to your parents to still have a little boy, but..wow. What a burden for them, so much all at once! My heart just goes out to them.
Um...how did your arthritis almost kill you? Is that story coming, too, eventually?
I have a tear in my eye as I read your story, Father. Thank you for posting this.
How you have tasted the bitter sweet in life - and I think, from my view, you have lived your life well to be where you are and where you are going. God grant you the grace to continue on the journey! And, please, God, to give you many more years of happiness and fulfillment in it!
I'm a priest-twin as well, although I had the good fortune to have the lifelong companion in mischief. (Except he now lives in Iowa, jeesh!)
If I think of it, I'll write the story of my birth, which while not nearly as dramatic as yours, is nonetheless entertaining. God bless on your birthday, a bit late.
By the by, the associate director whom I work with, his son is currently on a trach, and entering his third year of life. Good to know it can be overcome.
I am Father Schnippel's Associate and this story is wonderful to hear. Thanks for sharing.
As Father said, my first son is currently on a trach and is 3 years old. We are hoping to get rid of it before the summer, but we need lots of prayers as we have come to this point several times over the past year.
Incidentally, we have a second son and we have already started saying that our first would be the priest and the second the president! How cool is it that you, a pediatric trach patient, would become the priest as well?!
You're welcome, Wayne; I'll keep your son in my prayers!
I stumbled upon your blog, via a link of a link. I am generally a "lurker", for even in "real life" I am an intensely private person and rarely share of myself. I am merely a "cyber parishioner" and follow your blog via my rss feed. I started to read because you also are connected to my alma mater, Franciscan University, and I used to serve the summer conferences as a student worker.
And though it is perhaps a disservice to admire a priest for his skill in crafting a homily that is both intellectually piercing but also spiritually directive, this being but a fraction of what a priest is, I have come to admire the words you offer. Your voice is a gentle light of peace, holiness and down to Earth humor amidst the din and cacophony of our ordinary lives, now so increasingly detached and technological. This post makes me particularly grateful for you, for you remind us that the voice of the priest comes from among us, not above us. The voice of the priest is intensely human, fragile, and humble.
You, as all priests, remain in my constant prayers.
Wow, Fr. Daren...what a moving story.
I think I mentioned to you that I'm a twin, too. My sister and I were preemies when we were born-and we were conditionally baptized by the Catholic doctor who delivered us.
Three years before we were born, my older sister was born...but her twin brother was stillborn. I visit his grave whenever I can. He's near my parents and my maternal grandparents [they came from Germany].
MICHELLE: Thank you for your humbling words and for your prayers!
IRISHGIRL: I belive you did mention that once. Two sets of twins so close together? In my family twins seem to skip a generation.
This is indeed a very interesting story. My own mother believes to this day that she gave birth to two babies when i was born, but that 'something' (she believes to have been my twin) was born when i was and quickly taken away. Mum recalls a nurse hastily placing a the gas and air over her face and telling her that everything would be dealt with.
To this day we don't know what happened, but I have always felt that someone was missing from my life. I can't quite explain it.
Commenting by HaloScan
