The Death and Death of Father Florêncio

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I sit down to write, as usual, and watch the news on the phone that Father Florêncio has died. What a pity! My confessor died. In fact, the favorite.
I could not be ashamed to tell my problems before that gentleman, understanding and sure of what he said. My secret-keeping suit … Always wearing shorts, a striped sweater and slippers … Fascinating eyes … It is said that the confessor is like Jesus himself forgiving sins. What joy Jesus had!
My father commented on the film I had loaned him. The video was “Cinema Paradiso”, a masterpiece of Italian production. There was also the video with images of Italy that he liked so much.
He heard of his fame when he was a high school student and knew the stories from colleagues who studied at the Diocesan. In college, at the evangelization center, I was advised to confess with him. I thought that was very strange, I haven’t confessed since I was 10 years old.
“He is a very wise man. Go there to see it! ”. I arrived at the imposing building and asked where his office was. The attendant answered me and I arrived at her mysterious office, embedded in the historic chemistry laboratory. On the wall, photos of dear alumni in moments of socializing, bottles of everything, books and more books.
On the computer, chatting with your relative via Skype. He was simple and charismatic, always with a smile on his face. I must have confessed myself two or three times, which proved to be enough for him to give me spiritual direction.
I remember the last confession, vaguely … Asked if he knew the Vatican’s chief exorcist, he made a serious face. Asked if hell was real, he said, “It’s eternal, my daughter. Eternal!”.
Aside from the intimate questions, which left me embarrassed, the confession ended well and I laughed after what he asked me. “Your soul is clean. Now I want a hug … ”.
I hugged him and the printer’s papers fell to the floor. A disaster, as he himself observed.
The day before his death, I took a class at the college on Soren Kiekergaard’s existentialism and on death. “Enough, teacher! This subject is unpleasant! ”, The class complained.
The father of existentialism said that we are condemned to be free, but we have the prison of responsibility for the choices. Certainly, there were only death and anguish, inevitable things.
“Death is nothing to us, because when we exist, there is no death, and when there is death, we are no more.” I also remembered that phrase from Epicurus, from a certain philosophy class.
Sometimes, we cry because death simply exists. “Ah! The death!”. This unfortunate intruder penetrates the party of life. It is revolting not to be able to go back in time, to review certain things. Death has its “beauty”, cold, icy, indifferent, simple…
I left to finish the text after its wake…
Sêneca says in her book Learning to live: “we must be prepared for death rather than for life. Life is fertile enough, but we are always hungry for ways to live and it seems to us that something is always missing. Not the years, not the days, but the spirit tells us if we live long enough ”.
Now, this unbreakable, vivid, lucid spirit, which guided many people, was what marked its existence. Aunt Lilia spoke during the service: “He baptized almost all my children. And there was a phrase that said a lot ‘life is lightning, even if it is brief’ ”.
I agree. If life is lightning, then he was a guiding star for many people. Today, it has its deserved place in heaven.

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