Hajja Salesjana October-November 2020

9 H AJJA S ALESJANA He would ask questions that I would not know the answer to, especially in my own lack of catechism. So I turned to learning more about my faith, and this was because of Carlo. Many other people would witness to this, as well: people who converted because of his example, or his conversations. He really lived what he preached, a witness. This is how he approached his suffering, too. Carlo would say, “Death is the start of new life.” God allows, unfortunately, the cross and suffering because of original sin. He believed that the sacraments were the mercy of God, to enable our ability to carry our sufferings. Before he died, he said to me, “Mama, I would like to leave this hospital, but I know I will not do so alive. I will give you signs, though, that I am with God.” Carlo was aware that his life was lived fully. He said, “ I die happy, because I did not spend my life wasting my time on things not pleasing to God .” He was always trying to smile, trying to not complain. When his doctor would ask him if he was suffering, he would say, “I know there are others who are suffering more.” Toward the end of his life, he was unable to move himself, he was so weak. He would worry for the nurses who would have to lift him, that he was too heavy for them. It is interesting, he recorded a video — the Vatican has this, now — but in it, two months before his death, he said, “When I weigh 70 kilos [154 pounds], this is when I will die.” I remember that, also, when he was young, he would say that he knew how he would die — that he would die when a “vein would break in his brain”; and, in fact, the cause of his death was a hemorrhaging within the brain, an effect of the leukemia. He used to say, when he was young, that he would “be always young,” and when people would ask him what he desired to be when he grew up, and he would say, “Who knows?” For me, as a mother watching her son die, I recall what Carlo would say: “Golgotha is for everyone. No one escapes the cross.” He convinced me of this — if I am a good Catholic, how can I be afraid of this? I had friends of mine, when Carlo died, who were very angry at Jesus. They would say, “I have a grandfather who is 90 years old. Why would Jesus take Carlo before him?” Carlo was ready, though. To have a long life doesn’t mean that this is a good thing —  one can live a very long time and live badly. Of course, in the cases of suicide, or where people are reckless with their lives with drugs or alcohol, these are tragedies. God, however, writes straight with our crooked lines. He will bring good from our sufferings, but we must accept them. This is the way we become holy. Our lives have many opportunities to accept [sufferings]; we don’t have to look for them. If I only looked at the death of my son in an earthly way, I would have been unable to be consoled. Carlo taught me how to look at it through the eyes of faith. He died without ever having to experience such major temptations in life, or face obstacles alone. He was loved, and he loved really genuinely. It was the way he accepted the will of God — with a smile, never complaining. He would say, “ Not me, but God !” He was really centered on God, and I think this was his secret: not looking internally, becoming sad at his own state, but looking at God. The measure of our acceptance is the reflection of our sanctification. The way Carlo died, it was the death of a saint.