Sleep-Deprivation and the Blessed Pope John Paul II

I do need to get a good night’s sleep in the worst way! For a change it’s not pain keeping me up, but television. First I pulled a nearly all-nighter watching the wedding of Prince William and Kate Middleton early Friday morning. Just as I caught up with sleep, I remembered that this weekend was to be that of Pope John Paul II’s beatification ceremony, and tripped over a live broadcast.

I have no doubt that John Paul was someone special and utterly worthy of sainthood. Maybe he isn’t as flashy as many of the “older” saints, but in our time, when a miracle has to be something very special to attract the Church’s attention.

John Paul II was so charismatic, something that is impossible to see on television. No doubt that is where most have seen him. I was one of the lucky few to have breathed the same air as he, at Carmel Mission in the fall on 1987. I’d volunteered to provide emergency medical services for media covering the Pope’s visit to the Monterey Peninsula. He presided over mass at Laguna Seca raceway, and following that mass, was headed to the mission for lunch with priests, take a short nap, and then head to his next stop, which I think was San Francisco.

The Monterey Diocese set up big-screen televisions for us to watch the mass, so we could feel closer and also know what was going on. I can’t remember the exact time John Paul II was to arrive at the mission; I believe it was noon or 1 p.m. The media room was at the back of the mission, situated in such a way that we would not be able to see him arrive or depart. Yes, all of us volunteering were disappointed we’d not see him, but there was a kind of peace in knowing we’d served him somehow…
As the day drew to a close, we were told that John Paul wanted to thank the volunteers who were not able to lay eyes on him. A decision was made to have him depart the mission from a different entrance/exit; he would exit into an open area, walk to his limo, and then the limo would drive on a circular path so as many of us could see him as possible.

Watching him walk out was so unreal… John Paul II was still very active and fit, and had some sort of energy around him. I know that sounds stupid, but it was just a feeling I’d not yet ever experienced. I was far enough away I could not see facial expressions; I was standing quite far from the limo. But the Pope had decided he wanted us to be able to see him, and he wanted to thank us. He drove right by me, and though I am sure everyone felt the same, I just know he looked right at me.
There was a grace, a sense of peace and a sense that I was close to someone extraordinary. He did his famous wave, and kept it up until the limo was on the straight driveway and out of our sight.

I know the moment was extraordinary, because to this day, I can close my eyes and recall a 20-second memory clip of John Paul II in the limo, driving in that circular drive, looking at me. I do not have any other memories that play in my mind’s eye that long. Yes, I have flashes of special moments, but Pope John Paul II is a full 20-second memory clip that I can recall by closing my eyes and asking for it. When John Paul II lay mortally ill, I could recall that memory and would pray for him while it was playing. When I heard he’d passed, I was at an Oakland A’s game. There was a moment of silence announced on the loudspeaker, and I closed my eyes and recalled that memory.

Okay, so that might not be a spectacular miracle. To me it is enough to know that John Paul II did and does have God’s ear. Last night I prayed to the newly-Blessed John Paul II and congratulated him and gave thanks for him giving me the opportunity to lay eyes on him. John Paul II is no doubt the only pope I will have seen in person in my lifetime. Sure, I wish I had a photograph of John Paul II during that visit, but I think my 20-second memory clip is far more valuable.

Taking part in history

I'm sitting here thinking about all of the crazy people in Washington, D.C. who are there in the name of "history."

I am as interested in history as anyone (it was one of my best subjects in school, look at all of the good it did me!), but I sure wouldn't put myself out that much just to say "I was there."

But actually I did that once—on September 17, 1987, when Pope John Paul II visited the Monterey Peninsula. I am a "cafeteria Catholic" but like many Catholics, felt there was just something special about this Pope. So when the opportunity to volunteer came up, I stepped up and offered my services as an RN, wherever they were needed. All I'd hoped for was a glance of John Paul II.

The Pope offered mass for 50,000 people at Laguna Seca, a world-famous road racing track. I'd hoped to end up there, working in first aid, but I was assigned to the press room at the Carmel Mission Basilica, where John Paul II was holding an audience with 3000 people following the mass. He was to visit Junipero Serra's grave, have lunch onsite at the mission, and then take an afternoon nap before he departed. I was there to attend to the medical needs of the several hundred media types who'd been following the Pope during his U.S. tour. I handed out tylenol and motrin, but I was there because I'd had advanced life support training, and could start medical treatment in case of catastrophic collapse of a media person.

There would be no opportunity to see the Pope. Or so organizers thought.

Somewhere along the line it was decided the Pope would slightly modify his route out of the Mission, and all volunteers were allowed to stand in a plaza area and watch him get into his car and drive off. He looked back at all of us, raised his hand in that way he did, got into the car, and drove around a roundabout, looking at us all of the way, with his hand raised in blessing.

That image is burned into my mind. When John Paul II died in April 2005, I held that image in my head and whenever the sadness was overwhelming, I'd close my eyes and see him, alive, waiving. He went out of his way just to see those of us who chose to serve him that one day.

I would go out of my way for the Pope, even though I disagree with so much of the Catholic church's doctrine. I would never go out of my way for the cult of personality that is our commander-in-chief, starting today.