Saturday, December 12, 2009

The Passing of Father Anthony Mary's mother

Father's Mom
-19 September, 2009 -
(left click on the photos to see them bigger)


We send our deepest sympathy
to Father Anthony Mary,
to Mr. Pat Seeber,
and to Father Anthony Mary's brothers and sister,
on the passing of
Monica Jeanne Marthe Seeber, R.I.P.,
who died today, 12 December 2009,
in Johannesburg, South Africa.

Pat and Monica
- 54 years of marriage -

The blessed parents
of
a daughter and eight sons.

Monica Jeanne Marthe Seeber

Born in Gent, Belgium, 25 April 1928
Daughter of John and Yvonne Taylor
Married Patrick Leo Seeber,
in Salisbury, S. Rhodesia, 14 May, 1955.

This morning, Saturday, 12 December, the Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe, Father Anthony Mary offered the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass near his dying mother and administerd to her the holy Viaticum. Mrs. Seeber’s beloved husband Pat and daughter Elise were also present. Immediately after Mass they prayed together the chaplet of Divine Mercy and then began the Holy Rosary during which Mrs. Seeber, peaceful and conscious to the very end, passed into her eternity at 11.00 A.M.

Requiem aeternum dona ea, Domine.
Et lux perpetua luceat ea. Requiescat in pace. Amen.

Eternal rest grant unto her, O Lord,
and let perpetual light shine upon her. May she rest in peace. Amen.

Father Anthony with his Mother, Bishop Fellay and his Father
after his Ordination to the Subdiaconate.
- 31 March, 1990 -

Mrs. Seeber receiving the First Blessing from her priestly son
on his day of Ordination.
Econe, 27 June, 1991,
Feast of Our Mother of Perpetual Succour.

A priest, one evening, made his weary way
Into a graveyard where his mother lay;
And scarcely had he reached the humble mound
Than tears stole out to bless the hallowed ground.
Beside the humble grave the priest then knelt
To tell the sorrow that his heart then felt.
Full many a messenger of sorrow went
To make excuse that yet no monument
Stood guard o’er his mother’s sacred head,
To honour her who lay among the dead.

And then a voice came swiftly from the tomb:
“My monument was builded in my womb;
My greatest laurels, greatest praise were won
The hour that thou became my priestly son.
Behold the mothers that beside me lie,
Whose monuments point proudly to the sky
Of all these honoured mothers, everyone
Would change her tombstone for a priestly son.
Go, then, my son, and never more lament
That o’er my grave there stands no monument;
Return thou to the desert sands of sin,
And win the lost sheep to the fold again;
For all the souls in heav’n whom thou hast sent
Fore’er proclaim thee as my monument.”

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