Fr. Creedon Reflects on his Brother, Dr. Michael A. Creedon

Posted on September 8, 2017

Vigil for Michael Creedon   Sept 8, 2017

Gerard Creedon

Michael died in the company of Lorna in a Comfort Inn in Mansfield PA last Tuesday. When I went with Lorna to the funeral home up there I saw his body stretched out. I had to turn to the wall and shed a bitter tear, his silence was frightening.

I feel better today seeing him here in his navy blue suit and red tie… God be with the days before Lorna when he would wear his ten dollar Armani suit from a Think New Thrift shop. Do you remember his thrifty raspberry trousers… You would take a step backwards..But he thought he was grand.

We gather here in Dale City, because he came down here most Sundays to go to mass in Holy Family up the street. When I was celebrating I would look for the two of them in the congregation. I’d know where they were seated by the sound of his baritone voice. Last week he was saying he had not come down in a while because of rugby, hurling and Gaelic football games he watched in Arlington.

But he always called me and made a point of letting me know that he was going to Holy Trinity or John Neumann or St Charles Borromeo. Pay attention all heretics out there. Michael’s faith was essential and like anything else he had, he believed it was a gift to be shared not hidden. He knew his church better than most, its blemishes too, but he was faithful.

When I called Joe about his passing, he answered “You were as different as chalk and cheese”. I hope he meant something positive. Because Michael and I shared a lot; Tooreen, where his hero was Mike White, All Hallows, Catholic university,  social work, and years when we both served as priests in the Richmond Diocese and ended up on the same diocesan Commission on Social Development. When he later worked on retirement issues, he was always a priest, his first instinct was to serve, pray for the sick and the dead, affirm the strengths of others, old or young, and give the shirt off his back, even when times were lean.  He was a giver of gifts, an encyclopedia of information on all topics. He saw no evil and was a fountain of joy.

The love of his life was Lorna, whom he called his petal, singular vessel of devotion and his little chickadee. He traveled the world from California to Afghanistan to Timbuktu, and yet found his partner in Inchigeela, in Joe’s kitchen. He never tired of singing Lorna’s praises. She loved him, cared for him, kept him alive and at times stood up to him. Every person here and especially our family join me in saying a thousand thanks. I especially appreciate the way she allowed Michael the freedom to be Michael.

When he returned from Ireland he would talk about his visit to Mrs. Stanley, his mother in law. She might be in another world until he would sing one of the old music hall songs. She would surprise everyone who had not seen her talk in weeks as she would join in singing with him word for word.

He took to singing at funerals where by popular demand he would rise Shule Aroon. It was the song of an Irish girl saying goodbye to her love going off to France to fight with Napoleon.

Siul, Siul , Suil a run, siuil go socair agus siuil go ciuin,

Walk , walk, walk my dear one, walk safely and  walk quietly

For the heart of my love from me has flown.

Is go dte tu mo bhuirnin, slan.

My darling, that you may go well.

Lorna’s mother and father, Michael’s parents, aunts and uncles especially Connie Pa,  and the brothers will welcome him with all who have gone before him. Maybe Con Don will take out his harmonica and Dick one of his 14 guitars and accompany Michael in all ten verses of Shule Aroon for surely Heaven will be more lively and joyful when Michael joins Corus Angelorum.


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