Story:Words at Oige's Mass

To all of you: our friends, our community and beyond, Den, Liam and I would like to thank you for the outpouring of love and support you have given us. We have been overwhelmed. You helped us when Oige was missing, searching for him, praying for him, and waiting with us into the night. You were there for us that morning. You caught us as we were falling, you held us up when we faltered. You cared for us. You loved us. And you continue to do so. For this, we thank you.

Den and I have been blessed with two extraordinary sons, each with their own incredible gifts, both with wisdom beyond their years. We have learned more life lessons from our boys than we have ever taught them. We are proud of the young men they have become.

A few years ago as Liam was thinking about studying storytelling, he pointed out to us that what is important in our lives manifests in our stories. As we muddled through these last few weeks, my mind chattered constantly. A phrase kept popping into my head: “it all comes back to the story”.

Oige’s story began in Tulare. Ten days after he was born, we moved to this valley. You have all helped with the story since then, sometimes playing major roles in how it developed. Many of us know different parts to Og’s story. The parts we don’t have, now feel like holes. I am trying to fill in some of the holes you may have. We long to hear the parts of Oige’s story that you have that could help close our holes.

Oige was a different soul, perhaps a bit quirky. He did not shy away from who he was, but embraced his uniqueness. As a toddler, he made up his own language before he spoke English. Later, he made up imaginary friends. He became fascinated with language, loving the story-based arts of literature, poetry and humor. By 4 th grade, he was learning Tolkien’s Elfish language. Then it was on to Latin. Oige approached life with a twinkle in his eye and a smile on his face, always present in the moment. He had many talents, but his passion was music. His joy was in music. One could see that passion, that joy on his face when he was playing his viola and most definitely when he was singing.

Over the past three years, since becoming involved with chamber music, Oige immersed himself deeper into classical music. Thanks to Mary Beth, he switched from the violin to the viola, and his relationship to music blossomed. As Mary Beth noted, Oige had found his voice in the viola. He started seeing himself as a musician. He decided that he wanted to be a violist.

This summer he went off to a chamber music summer camp for two weeks. He came back with a new confidence and dedication. He was ecstatic when Helen Callus, the viola professor at UCSB, accepted him into her studio and offered him a difficult concerto to learn, as this meant she too had confidence in his playing abilities and in his artistry. Then he spent two weeks playing viola in the MERIT program at the Music Academy of the West. He was presented with the MERIT award for exceptional achievement on July 17th.

The next Tuesday, July 21st, Oige had a lesson with Helen. They talked of his viola auditions, and the colleges and music conservatories to which they thought he should apply. He came home on cloud nine. He figured he was on his way, with not a worry in the world. He was excited about his senior year. He had top grades and test scores, a beautiful audition piece to work on, 2 wonderful viola teachers, a list of exciting music programs to apply to in the fall with prospects of traveling the country for college auditions. Life simply could not get any better. This was the mindset he took up that mountain seven weeks ago. He was celebrating his place in the world. He was happy.

July 22nd is a bit of a fog. The Search and Rescue Teams stand out in my mind. They were professional, dedicated and compassionate men and women who were valiantly trying to find our son. That night we had faith; we had hope that our boy would be found safe and sound.

The next morning we were told the unthinkable. Faith wavered, hope shattered, but love held steadfast: Oige’s love, our love, God’s love. That is what got us through those first heart-ripping moments, which turned into agonizing hours, which turned into long days, and now into blurred weeks.

We could not understand what happened to Oige up on that mountain. How could a healthy, athletic 17 year old who is an avid hiker and backpacker succumb to heatstroke practically in his own backyard? We needed to fill in the holes of the story. We hiked up the creek and up the mountain often, trying to find answers. We believe we now have a plausible explanation for the events of that day. We are hoping that having this will help us come to grips with this nightmare.

But that is not the end of the story. Oige’s death has shaken our grip on reality, has shaken our understanding of life as we know it, and so, has shaken our faith, shaken how we think about God, about prayer, about heaven, about our place in the world. So we enter a phase of re-evaluation of life. The story of faith that we settle on will be different than the faith we had known two months ago. Better, stronger, deeper, we can hope, but we do not know just yet as we are not quite finished with that part of the story.

This we do know: God’s love surrounds us. Oige will always be with us. Oige has much to teach us yet. Oige will continue to make us laugh, will continue to fill our hearts with joy, and will continue to remind us not to worry but to embrace who we are and to live each day with wonder, delight and love.