I met Father Tharp for the first time on May 18, 2013. It was Pentecost Sunday Vigil Mass and it was the first time I heard him preside over a Mass.
My journey into the Catholic world had really begun on February 14, 2009, the day I call My Day of Epiphany. It was the catalyst that kicked off my love of Rosaries, though I didn't realize it at the time. And that is another story, but as I learned more about Rosaries and the Church, I decided to get in deeper and attend RCIA at my sister's church.
I still never imagined that I would JOIN the Catholic Church.
Somewhere along the way it just kind of became the only option. But to do RCIA right I needed to complete it at my local parish. So I let my church know that I was going to leave and they needed to replace me as Sunday School teacher. Then Rick out of the blue decided he was going to go with me to classes.
So there I was on that Saturday in May of 2013. I had been to a couple of vigil Masses in Chickasha before, and a few Masses at St Joseph in Norman, but was still very new to the Mass world. I had been told by several people that though one could not receive communion without being in full communion with the Catholic Church, one could go up with the faithful with arms crossed and receive a blessing. Up to that point I had not ever worked up the nerve to do it. As I sat in the pew that night I decided what the heck?! Let's go.
Yeah. You see, one of the things about my relationship with Father Tharp was that he did not like me. I swear he didn't! (But that is okay - I loved him enough for the both of us!) Everything I did just seemed to annoy him. And it may have all started right there. I went up, arms crossed...and Father looked at me like I was some creature from outer space and then moved me along in the line.
He was, however, very welcoming when I spoke with him at the doors after Mass. I explained to him that Rick and I were interested in RCIA and inquired as to how we get signed up. He told me to call the office and get on the list. I did that a couple of days later (or perhaps the next day?), and Rick and I went together to Mass in Chickasha for the first time on Sunday, June 2, 2013. We started RCIA on Wednesday, June 12, 2013, and after more than a year of classes, the fiasco of annulments and my near-breakdown during Easter Vigil when our class was confirmed without us, we FINALLY officially entered into the Catholic Church on Sunday, August 17, 2014, with, of course, Father Tharp presiding.
At some point between May 2013 and August 2014, I fell completely in love with Father Tharp. It sounds cliched and boring, but he was one of a kind. He was (in no particular order) a gargantuan geek, an enthusiastic educator, a food fanatic, and a personable priest with a charismatic character.
I found out on April 7, 2015, that Father had been reassigned and was leaving our parish at the end of June. With Rick working at the church I had the inside scoop, but it just made it worse when he announced it on Sunday the 12th. I had had time to get past the shock and just bawled as he made the announcement.
On June 30th it fell to Rick to finish the cleaning and get the rectory ready for our new priest. I went up to the church and helped clean up. I took a great deal of joy in Father stopping by one last time for his last few things while I was still there. He went inside the offices to say goodbye to everyone and I stayed outside not wanting to get in the way. Consequently, though not intentionally, that made me the last one he said goodbye to as he got in his car. The child in me delighted in that, the person who already missed him almost wished I hadn't been there at all.
I was to see him only one more time. On Sunday, August 16, 2015, Rick and I went down to Lawton to visit Father for the one year anniversary of our Confirmation. We were going to take Father out to lunch after Mass. Alas, it was not meant to be. As we stood outside the church visiting with him and the crowd was thinning, a man came up to him and took him to the side. Father came back and informed us that a situation had come up that demanded his attention and he would have to take a rain check on lunch.
On Friday, October 16th, 2015, after a fun Fall Break day of yard sale-ing and shopping and chilling with Rick, I got a call from Becky (my sister). She was on Facebook and saw a post that Father had died. I got on Facebook and we sat on the phone and tried to take it all in as the news went viral.
I had no words for it then and I don't really have any words for it now. My journal entry for that night starts so: Well. This is a horrible day in the history of the universe. Father Tharp is dead.
I went to his Rosary and I took off work to go to his Funeral Mass. Nothing could have kept me away. He changed my life, he changed Rick's life, he changed our marriage. I know that he is in a better place and I know that God's plan is always for the better.
But none of that makes me miss him any less.
I want to be asking him questions about the catechism, not visiting his grave. I
want to seek his advice for lessons for the High School Confirmation class, not making Rosaries to adorn his grave. I want to talk to him about the latest Marvel movies. I want to hear that horrible, loud, wonderful laugh. I want to hear him sing a Mass again (no one else does it right, you know :-) ). I want one of those Father Tharp hugs where you get all tangled up in his flowing vestments.
But I am only human. And I will see him again.
My journey into the Catholic world had really begun on February 14, 2009, the day I call My Day of Epiphany. It was the catalyst that kicked off my love of Rosaries, though I didn't realize it at the time. And that is another story, but as I learned more about Rosaries and the Church, I decided to get in deeper and attend RCIA at my sister's church.
I still never imagined that I would JOIN the Catholic Church.
Somewhere along the way it just kind of became the only option. But to do RCIA right I needed to complete it at my local parish. So I let my church know that I was going to leave and they needed to replace me as Sunday School teacher. Then Rick out of the blue decided he was going to go with me to classes.
So there I was on that Saturday in May of 2013. I had been to a couple of vigil Masses in Chickasha before, and a few Masses at St Joseph in Norman, but was still very new to the Mass world. I had been told by several people that though one could not receive communion without being in full communion with the Catholic Church, one could go up with the faithful with arms crossed and receive a blessing. Up to that point I had not ever worked up the nerve to do it. As I sat in the pew that night I decided what the heck?! Let's go.
Yeah. You see, one of the things about my relationship with Father Tharp was that he did not like me. I swear he didn't! (But that is okay - I loved him enough for the both of us!) Everything I did just seemed to annoy him. And it may have all started right there. I went up, arms crossed...and Father looked at me like I was some creature from outer space and then moved me along in the line.
He was, however, very welcoming when I spoke with him at the doors after Mass. I explained to him that Rick and I were interested in RCIA and inquired as to how we get signed up. He told me to call the office and get on the list. I did that a couple of days later (or perhaps the next day?), and Rick and I went together to Mass in Chickasha for the first time on Sunday, June 2, 2013. We started RCIA on Wednesday, June 12, 2013, and after more than a year of classes, the fiasco of annulments and my near-breakdown during Easter Vigil when our class was confirmed without us, we FINALLY officially entered into the Catholic Church on Sunday, August 17, 2014, with, of course, Father Tharp presiding.At some point between May 2013 and August 2014, I fell completely in love with Father Tharp. It sounds cliched and boring, but he was one of a kind. He was (in no particular order) a gargantuan geek, an enthusiastic educator, a food fanatic, and a personable priest with a charismatic character.
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| Father at his parish going away party, superhero themed, of course! |
I found out on April 7, 2015, that Father had been reassigned and was leaving our parish at the end of June. With Rick working at the church I had the inside scoop, but it just made it worse when he announced it on Sunday the 12th. I had had time to get past the shock and just bawled as he made the announcement.
On June 30th it fell to Rick to finish the cleaning and get the rectory ready for our new priest. I went up to the church and helped clean up. I took a great deal of joy in Father stopping by one last time for his last few things while I was still there. He went inside the offices to say goodbye to everyone and I stayed outside not wanting to get in the way. Consequently, though not intentionally, that made me the last one he said goodbye to as he got in his car. The child in me delighted in that, the person who already missed him almost wished I hadn't been there at all.
I was to see him only one more time. On Sunday, August 16, 2015, Rick and I went down to Lawton to visit Father for the one year anniversary of our Confirmation. We were going to take Father out to lunch after Mass. Alas, it was not meant to be. As we stood outside the church visiting with him and the crowd was thinning, a man came up to him and took him to the side. Father came back and informed us that a situation had come up that demanded his attention and he would have to take a rain check on lunch.
On Friday, October 16th, 2015, after a fun Fall Break day of yard sale-ing and shopping and chilling with Rick, I got a call from Becky (my sister). She was on Facebook and saw a post that Father had died. I got on Facebook and we sat on the phone and tried to take it all in as the news went viral.
I had no words for it then and I don't really have any words for it now. My journal entry for that night starts so: Well. This is a horrible day in the history of the universe. Father Tharp is dead.
I went to his Rosary and I took off work to go to his Funeral Mass. Nothing could have kept me away. He changed my life, he changed Rick's life, he changed our marriage. I know that he is in a better place and I know that God's plan is always for the better.
But none of that makes me miss him any less.
I want to be asking him questions about the catechism, not visiting his grave. I
But I am only human. And I will see him again.
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