Brightsand Lake, SK, Canada
The phone rang incessantly at 3:00 am this past Monday. My wife finally woke me. “Someone is calling repeatedly.” I immediately had a sense of dread. It was my little brother’s name on the call display.
“Dad has passed away,” he said, voice trembling.
Dad had been in Lloydminster, Alberta, for the Walk for Life. Since I was a young man, my parents were deeply involved in pro-life work, helping young women to keep their child while providing food, clothing, and finding accommodations. To the very end, my dad fought for the dignity of all, from conception to natural death.
Indeed, if you want to know where my faith came from, it was my mom and dad. When I was a young man, I remember coming up for breakfast before school. Dad was already off to work, his Bible lying open on the table. He loved God’s Word, and quoted Scripture frequently in his letters and conversations with us, including his last email to me. The name of Jesus was not a curse on his lips, but a sweet praise. Dad never hesitated to pray over us, whether we were sick or in need of grace. Like his mother before him, the Rosary was never far from his hands. And like many in his generation, he lamented the disintegration of Catholicism in much of the West over the past generation or two.
But my dad’s faith was also tested — severely.
When I was 19, I came home one day to my dad standing at the back door surrounded by my brothers and mom. “Your sister Lori has died in a car accident he said,” tears streaming down his face. He’d just been brutally laid off from his decades-long career with Mobil Oil and now faced the unthinkable — the loss of his only daughter at 22 years old. In fact, in his last email to me a couple of weeks ago, he said, “Well, today Lori would have been 62! … Oh God, how wonderful it would have been had she lived… God knew how awful it would be for all of us without Lori. Yet it happened… Million questions but no answers.”
And that’s how dad lived for years: wrestling not only with the mystery of her death, but just years after that, the death of his beloved spouse, Mary. Mom was only 62 years old when cancer took her. He was left with a heart broken into pieces. While dad was physically healthy until he took his last breath, emotionally, he suffered terribly over the years. It was his particular cross to bear, and it was no doubt a heavy one.
This past spring, I sat with my dad at his cabin at the lake where he lived alone, and told him what a hero he has been to me; that despite these incredible losses, he had remained faithful to Jesus. He spent these last years dedicated to prayer, spiritual reading, and watching EWTN.
I am grateful to both my parents for not only teaching me the Faith, but above all, witnessing it to me. This ministry is the fruit of their love for us kids, for each other, but most especially, their love for the Lord. My dad was a regular reader of The Now Word, and often wrote to encourage me.
Dad’s funeral is this Friday, October 9th, 2026 in Lloydminster, Alberta.[1]St. Anthony’s Catholic Church, 10:30 AM If this ministry has touched you in any way, would you say a prayer for his soul? If you are a priest, would you offer a Mass for him?
I miss my dad dearly, especially since his death was so sudden. At the same time, I thank God for this great mercy that, after so many years of emotional suffering, he was taken home without the prolonged physical suffering the aged so often experience. Last year, having reflected on his life, he wrote to my little brother:
My thoughts as I complete 85 years of life —
for which I am most thankful for:
even amid sorrow and chaos,
it has been a magnificent experience to have lived.
—Jack Mallett
So, I just wanted to write and explain my absence (I gave some talks in Wyoming, USA last week). I have a meditation on the “period of peace” Our Lady of Fatima spoke of. I just need to find time to sit down and complete it amid the recent chaos. Thank you for understanding.
Dad, pray for us…
Here’s a song I wrote about my dad, and his eventual passing from this life…
And They Danced
He sits there all alone in the corner of the hall
Surrounded by his loved ones
except the one who was his all
It’s only been a year since the good Lord took her home
He stares out at the dance floor
and pretends that she ain’t gone…
And they dance, even in between the songs
Even when the band stops playing,
‘Cause the melody goes on
The words never change, “I’ll love you all my life”…
And they danced
He sits there in the kitchen, God, it’s cold without her home
He wades through her pictures
Just trying to hold on
Sometimes he wants to laugh, oh, but usually he cries
Then he picks up a photo of one ordinary night…
When they danced right on the kitchen floor
Even when the food was burning, their love burned even more
The words never changed, “I’ll love you all my life”
And they danced…
Well, it came his time to go, and he didn’t even know
‘Till he opened up his eyes in that Amazing Place
First thing that he saw, not an angel, not his God
He turned, to see her face…
And they danced
Even when the good Lord came
Even when the angels gathered
They went on just the same
The words never changed, “I’ll love you all my life”
And they took the good Lord’s hand and they danced
They danced
And they danced….
℗ 2013 Mark Mallett, “And They Danced”, Vulnerable
Jack and Mary Mallett… and they dance.
So grateful for your prayers and support.
Thank you!
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Footnotes
| ↑1 | St. Anthony’s Catholic Church, 10:30 AM |
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